Midwinter Mystery Series - The Town of No Return - Chapter Two

_{The Town of No Return – Chapter Two}

_{"Arrival “}

_{The carriage door slid abruptly open, summoning John from his 'train' of thought and returning him to the endless journey, albeit it further down the line. He noted that though the tunnel lay far behind them, they were still very much in the dark despite the carriage's lamps burning once more, as the day finally relinquished it's remaining light to the falling night sky.}

 _{“ Tickets, tickets please !” came the mournful request, from the train guard now standing sentry in the carriage's doorway, filling it's frame with his own. He was a small, giant of a man, broad of shoulder, wider of girth, his ill-fitting uniform crowned with a peak cap pushed back over his forehead in a slightly rebellious manner. “ How much longer until we get to Mistry ?” John enquired producing his ticket from a waistcoat pocket and presenting it to the guard. He straightened himself up in his seat before entering into a deep stretch easing the stiffness in his lower back, before conducting a pocket-by-pocket search of his overcoat for any surviving cigarettes.} 

_{" Ahh, Mistry ! That be the next stop, we should be comin' up on it, in 'bout 10 minutes, or so, I reckon,” replied the guard, a puzzled look of recognition crossed his brow as he inspected both the ticket and it's owner. ” This be your first time to Mistry, then ?”he quizzed.}

_{"Yes, it is. What gave me away ?” smiled John.}

_{" I've jus' never 'eard of anyone returnin' to Mistry before...come to that, I don't think I've ever seen anyone leave !” was the honest reply. John leant in towards the Guard, to offer the benefit of his deductive reasoning,} “ I shouldn't worry if I were you, perhaps they just slipped back in when your back was turned, or went over the wall on your day off !” a look of relief swept across his face, as his fingers finally touched upon a crumpled pack of cigarettes in one of the darkest recesses of his pocket.

_{"Mebbe, Sur ! You can never tell with some folk can ye'!” the Guard conceded somewhat philosophically.}

_{"Well, I happen to be in possession of a return ticket, and I can assure you that I fully intend on making the most of it !" clarified John.}

_{"I'll have to take your word on that, Sur, won't I ?” the guard offered his unsolicited opinion as he punched John's ticket.} 

_{“ Yes, YOU WILL !” admonished John, and then concluded. “ Look, it seems to have taken a lot longer to get here than I expected. Is everything alright, or do you run on some kind of Cornish time, down here ?”}

_{"P'haps, you ain't taken into consideration, that we have to take things more slowly down 'ere. On account of bein' at the end of the line.. and all !” explained the Guard.}

 _{“ The end of line, what are you talking about, man ?” John felt compelled to verify the validity of this last statement.}

_{"Aye, it's true, these last few stations can only be reach'd by the old disused line, tracks not cover'd by the gover'ment's, ' Modernization' plans !” the Guard almost spat out the last words in a contemptible tone. “ But, once they're gone these 'forgotten' villages will be cut off from the main line forever. Then they'll be jus' little more than ' Ghost towns' !}

_{"Hmm ! I see ! I guess it's the price we have to pay for progress,” John, tried to reason his way out of a bad situation, tapping out the last cigarette in the pack – a slight tear in it's middle, but otherwise still quite serviceable – and proceeded to light up.}

_{"Progress, be damned !” slammed the Guard, thrusting John's ticket back into his hand.}

     _{The train suddenly jerked violently – as if reaching the end of some unseen tether – knocking the bespectacled passenger, bowler hat et al, to the floor. The Guard only managing to avoid the same position by falling into the now vacated seat of it's former occupant. John faring slightly better, as only his cigarette was consigned to the compartment's grey depths. Whilst he maintained his repose by planting both feet, firmly and widely apart, adopting a low center of gratitude, thankful for escaping a similar such indignity!}

_{"Damn, old tracks ! I swear they're getting worse ev'ry week !” exclaimed the Guard, as he and the silent scholar corrected themselves to their original position.}

_{"I'm beginning to suspect that neither of us are exactly on the 'right track', as they say,” empathized John, scouring the floor for any sign of his dying cigarette.}

_{"That's as may be, Sur. But, things run kind of differently down 'ere, that's all I'm sayin' ! You'll find out fer y'self soon enough !” countered the Guard, opening up his pocket watch before pronouncing, “ Anyway, your time's up, Sur !”}

_{"WHAT !” choked John.!}

_{"Your station ! It's comin' up, any minute ! Should be pullin' into it after this next bend !”}

_{"Oh ! Right ! Thank you “ breathed John, with a slight sigh of relief, as he stood up to prepare himself for departure, starting by disentangling his bags from the overhead corded luggage rack.}

    _{After climbing down from the train onto the one track-sided platform John placed his two suitcases either side of him on the ground and  made the necessary adjustments to his attire, adapting for the sudden change in environment. He drew the dark paisley silk scarf tight around his neck, buttoned up his tweed overcoat and pulled on a pair of black leather gloves. Once everything was covered he surveyed the surroundings and realised that he was now all alone on the very barren and neglected looking station. Nobody, apart from himself, had either departed or boarded the train. Not even the Guard had seen fit to grace the platform with his presence, to perform the appropriate regulations and gestures: re – general flag waving and whistle blowing, signalling that all was safe to move on. 
   Picking up the luggage he began to make his way, slowly and carefully - trying not to ruin his soft leather black brogues in the freshly fallen snow – towards the station's main hall. After a few steps he was totally engulfed in a large cloud of steam vapour, vented by the departing locomotive as it's engineer opened up the throttle for more acceleration.}

     _{The only source of illumination came from a large lamp, hanging over the building's doorway, with minor support from the lighted windows of the station office. John could see that the station had fallen into a state of disrepair, the wooden picket fence bordering the platform had loose and missing slats. The few platform lamps, all of which had broken bulbs, were infected with a thick moss climbing up their overly rusted posts. While the white paintwork on the station's fascia boarding and windows was turning dirty grey, showing signs of prolonged flaking and peeling, and what once passed as window boxes now seemed to be nothing more than just a repository for dead leaves and stagnant water. There were also two wooden posts, a few feet apart from each other, which he took to be where the station's identity board should be – but there was none. 
   As he neared the office he passed-by a red confectionery dispensing machine, hanging from the wall, empty of wares with one drawer stuck open. Next to this – and somewhat ironically – was a Speak-your-weight machine, it's glass face deeply cracked whether through age, accident or as a result of a disgruntled customer, John couldn't determine for sure, however as it's needle seemed to be stuck on 
'Seek medical attention' he felt that he could probably hazard a guess to a conclusion.}

_{Reaching the station's door he found it unlocked but had to try several attempts to open it – probably due to severe warping – and swiftly entered, leaving the cold unfriendly platform behind him. To stand instead in the cold unfriendly waiting room – it's small fireplace, full of yesterdays ashes, dead embers and disappointment. The bare room was sparsely furnished, just one wooden bench and small round table, covered with out-of-date, stained newspapers and an over abused ashtray. A solitary naked bulb hung from a long piece of flex cord, slightly swinging in the air, disturbed no doubt by the blast of wind that had accompanied John in upon his entry. 
    He moved over to the ticket office window, it's blind pulled fully down, and gently tapped on the glass for service. He waited for a moment, and then repeated the action, in a continued attempt to 'contact the other side'. There was still no response, so John tried a more direct approach, “ HELLO ! HELLO, IS ANYBODY THERE ?” he called. But, there was only the silence, the empty, hopeless silence, which caused John a certain degree of exasperation followed by a higher level of desperation, He started to pound his fist on the ticket window and shouted, “ COME ON ! OPEN UP ! I KNOW YOU'RE IN THERE, I CAN SEE THE LIGHTS ON !” There came a muffled noise from somewhere behind the screen, the blind flapped imperceptibly, before snapping sharply back up onto it's roller. John, was now left staring into the very heart of inhumanity, or at least the face of it - a British Rail, Station Master, semi-retired.}

_{"Ah, good, you're awake, then !” John greeted this overdue arrival with a growing sense of weariness.}

_{"Wot's all the commoshun' about, didn't you read the sign ? We're closed !” queried the railway man. He swayed slightly as he approached John and appeared to be of  'advancing beers', judging by the unkempt appearance and slurred speech, he must have been approaching somewhere over... LAST ORDERS, by John's reckoning.}

_{"Sign ? There's no sign out here ! Look, I've just arrived, and I'm in need of some assistance,” John tried to appeal to the wild looking gentleman's better nature, which was made all the more harder as eye-contact couldn't be confirmed, due to the dense consistency of his beer bottle glasses.}

_{"Eh ! Wot's that you say ?” countered the Station Master.}

_{"IS THIS MISTRY, OR NOT ?” John implored a simply answer.}

_{"WOT ! Of course not ! This is just a TRAIN STATION ! Everything else is a few miles down the road ! ” the Station Master waved his hand in a general direction towards the exit.}

_{"Okay, now we're getting somewhere ! How can I get there ?” pressed John.} 

_{“Well there's a bus, that runs thru' there.”}

_{"Good, when's the next one due ?”}

_{" 'Bout, 11 o'clock.”}

_{"11:00 PM ! But that's almost 5 hours from now, man !”}

_{"And the rest ! The next bus ain't due til 11:00 AM, on Monday mornin' !”}

_{" What ! That's ridiculous ! You mean to say, that there is no other service, til then ? ”}

_{"That's wot I said, are you a bit simple or summin' ?”}

_{"NO ! I just want to get to where I want to go !”}

_{"Eh !”} 

_{" Look, there must be some other form of transport around here. Haven't you ever heard of Taxis, in these parts ?”}

_{"Taxes ! What are you... one of those darned Revenue chasers ?”}

_{"No ! Taxis ! T-A-X-I-S ! A private vehicle that can be hired out for a journey, with it's own driver !”}

_{"Ohh ! One of those ! Then you be wantin'... George.”}

_{"I do ? So, this 'George' has a car of his own then ?" John clarified.}

_{"Yus ! He's the only one in the village, who does.”}

_{"Good, how do I contact him ?”}

_{"You can't, not 'til Monday mornin', anyhow,” answered the station master, swaying even more than usual.}

_{John's body started to tense up, with the sudden realization that he was getting nowhere, fast. “ Is there a particular reason, why can't I get hold of him tonight ?”}

_{"Yus, cos it's Saturday night !”}

_{"And, what exactly does that have to do with it ?”}

_{"'Cos, George, always goes to the pictures on a Saturday !”}

_{"I see, so you're telling me, that everything here, just stops at the weekend !”}

_{The Station Master started to wane – both physically and mentally – under such sustained questioning, and alcoholic consumption, and in a bid to draw a veil over the conversation. 
"Look, Mister, I deals with trains, and trains only, see. If you don't want to knows about trains, then I can't help yer !”}

_{"Alright, alright ! How far is it to walk there, then ?” surrendered John.}

_{"That depends, don't it ?”}

_{"Go on, I'm listening !” warned John.}

_{"Well, normal walkin' at this time of night, I'd say... not far. But, if yer intendin' to travel with those bags over there...” the old master espied John's large suitcases, “ the size o' two small boars, then it be... a BLOODY LONG WAY !”}

_{"Fine ! I'll leave the larger one here, and send for it later. That's, if you don't have any objections, of course,” John sarcastically requested.}

_{"Nah, I don't mind. Bring it over to the door, an' I'll keep it inside me office, for safe keeping,” the befuddled Master disappeared from the screen as he made his way to unlock the office door. John, stood back for a moment, partly out of surprise, but mainly due to the condition of the second party, currently parading in too close a proximity to him. Now that John could see the ' whole picture' of his would-be adversary, he became aware that he was actually in a worse state of disrepair than that of the the station ! Also, that there was a lot more of less of him - or vice versa - than John had anticipated, as he revealed another side of himself, or at least the bottom half. He was sporting just an exceptionally baggy, and very holey, pair of long johns under his station master coat.}

_{"Not expecting any guests then ?” John quipped.}

_{Ignoring the sarcastic overtones of John's last response the old boy continued,}

_{"Give us your name then, so's I can put a ticket on it fer yer. Mind you, if you haven't claimed it in a week, I'll be sendin' it up the line, to the main 'Lost Property' office !”}

_{"NO YOU WON'T! I'll be back for it soon enough, just keep an eye on it, till then !” commanded John, although due to the Masters myopic condition he had a deep worrying fear, that he was going to live to regret this decision. “ Which way do I go ?” he queried.}

_{"Turn left out of 'ere, cross o'er the walk through bridge, bare RIGHT at the crossroads and then jus' keep going straight on.”}

_{"Until ?” pushed John, for a definitive conclusion.}

_{"Until, you find wot ever yer lookin' fer, I guess !” the Master, answered somewhat sagely.}

_{After that, there didn't seem much else to be said, so John bade the Station Master farewell and strode out into the freezing unknown.}

   <sub>The ageing railway man, closed and bolted the station door behind John. Heading back to his office, he stopped in mid-thought, ” Or was it, LEFT, at the crossroads ?” he muttered, shrugging his shoulders to dismiss his quandary he crossed the rest of the room, extinguished the main hall light and retired to his quarters, to rest in peace.

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