After the near-miss over a week ago, I’m again stood at a terminal, gazing up at the arrivals board, trying and again failing not to cry, waiting for my brother and his girlfriend to arrive. This time it’s King’s Cross and this time they’re definitely coming.
I haven’t seen my brother in 6 or so years and I’ve never met his girlfriend. It’s all kinds of wrong.
Pacing, pacing … the train’s delayed, but not by much … the platform number isn’t being displayed and there are barriers In The Way (f-sake) … I have to get through! … I manage to do so with a quick teary explanation [I’m on the cusp of being an emotional mess].
A train arrives, “is this the train from Edinburgh?” I ask a station guard, “yes” – I turn into a meerkat searching for him – nowhere – crying (he’s not here!!), “Andrew!!” I shout at the back of some random stranger.
*Not* his train it turns out … definitely didn’t look a twat or anything like that..!
Three minutes later and his train slowly pulls into platform 1 … I’m heading up the platform against the opposing flow of travellers ~ salmon have an easier time of it ~ then as the crowd parts, they’re there; he’s there; I’m running* (*fast waddling with shopping bags); I’m crying before I even get to him [I’m crying now thinking back]; we hug; I sob … I sob a bit more; composure is *entirely* lost ~ eventually I let go and finally meet Melissa, his lovely girlfriend, and our two day adventure in London begins… well after the ubiquitous selfie!