The train came to a stop, and the announcement from the driver said that there was unfortunately going to be a delay due to an incident at the station ahead.
I was used to this train, and to the one that I would otherwise be connecting with to get home. Today however, I was obviously going to be late.
Looking around the carriage, it wasn't that full. I shared this bank of seats with a girl and then there were maybe ten or twelve other passengers, each with their own looks of disappointment and frustration at the delay. I looked at the girl and smiled, "hopefully not too long".
She smiled back. "Hopefully" she returned in a voice that sounded confident beyond her years.
She was nineteen. Dressed casually but neatly in a knee length floral dress with shoe string straps that showed off a summer tan of her seemingly carefree lifestyle. Her chestnut hair fell past and over her shoulders, finishing just before her chest which seems to sit pert without any noticeable support.
It was then that another announcement came. "I'm sorry ladies and gentlemen. It looks like it will be about half an hour. We have pulled past the platform routing section, and the train currently on the platform we need to pull into has broke down. Sorry again for the inconvenience".
This sort of thing had become a regular occurrence at Flinders Street Station. Regular enough that the people around the carriage didn't seem too phased past their display of minor annoyance.
A couple in the far corner of the train chuckled a scoff, bleating "typical". They said it unison, as though they had melded into one personality over the years of their relationship. Others in the carriage just murmured disapprovingly before returning to a light hum of normalcy.
"Damn" the young woman across from me said, looking at her phone.
I couldn't tell if it was a curse aimed at the delay of the train or at the person she was texting with. Either way, she lowered the phone into her lap and turned to look out the window into the sea of empty railway lines feeding the station. She certainly looked far more disappointed than she had before.
"I'm sure it won't take that long," I said trying to bolster her mood.
"It's too late anyway" she said, offering nothing else and not turning to meet my eyes.
The light was slowly fading signalling late afternoon and with the light dimming outside, I could just see the reflection of her face in tinted window. Her eyes looked beyond mine through the reflection and into the distance. She didn't notice me as I drifted down her body again to admire the young woman. She was pretty even as she pouted.
Her right leg was dancing a little. Hopping up and down on the toe of her sandal. I saw then that her frustration seems to be very real.
There's something inside of me that needs to help her, I don't know what it is. I'm not that much older than her, so it's not like I'm looking at her fatherly, there's just something curious about her.
"Do you want to talk about it?" I said to the reflection.
She turned to meet my eyes, "I don't know if you'll understand."
"Well, we're stuck here, and I won't judge you." I said, "you and I don't know each other from a bar of soap."
In that moment I was struck with a realisation. Soap! She smelled exactly like the soap I used as a child. It was an intoxicating scent.
"I don't know if you'll understand," she replied.
"Try me," I said with slightly cheeky tone.
She looked around the train carriage for a brief moment. It was subtle, but she was looking to see if anyone was earshot. The closest people were a third of the way down the carriage, two teenagers both engrossed in their phones with earphones in. Whatever she was about to say could indeed be said without the fear of sharing it too far.
"I was going to meet my friend in the city," she said. "I don't get to see her very often."
"And you're running late now?" I asked.
"I was running late before, and now we're stuck here." She was frustrated, her leg still hopping up and down. "Anyway, she had to go, and I wont get to see her today."
"How often do you get to see her?" I asked genuinely curious.