The Stationmaster’s Daughter. Kathleen McGurl

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      ‘Uncle Ted, can I stay here with the signals, ready to change it to clear?’ Tom was standing to attention, his hand on the signal lever.

      ‘If you like, but don’t touch anything else. I’ll give you a wave when it’s time to change the signal. All right?’

      ‘Yes, sir!’ Tom saluted.

      Now it was Peter’s turn to pout. ‘I didn’t get to change a signal all by myself, Uncle Ted. I only did it when you were with me. And as I’m the oldest I should have been given more responsibility, not him.’

      Ted sighed. He never did quite understand the children’s fine-tuned sense of justice. It was so hard to ensure they were both happy. ‘Well, you can have another turn this afternoon. We’ll keep things fair.’ He led Peter back down to the platform to await the train. It was right on time, and Peter proudly handed over the token to Bill Perkins, the train driver.

      ‘Good lad. We’ll make a stationmaster of you yet, won’t we, Ted?’ said Bill, grinning.

      There was only one person alighting from the train, and no one to pick up, so in no time at all Ted was waving his flag to allow the train to move. But the signal was still at stop. He waved again, and saw little Tom’s answering wave from the steps of the signal box. But still the signal didn’t change.

      ‘Why doesn’t he change the signal, the silly boy?’ muttered Peter. ‘Shall I go and see?’

      ‘Give him a chance,’ said Ted, watching the signal box carefully.

      ‘What’s the hold up?’ Bill leaned out of the cab to ask.

      ‘My younger nephew’s in charge of changing the signal.’

      ‘Ha ha! Maybe the poor little nipper can’t manage the heavy lever. You’d best go check on him, Ted, or the train’ll be late and we can’t have that!’

      He had a point. Ted hurried up the platform and into the signal box where, sure enough, Tom was pulling on the lever with all his might, leaning all his weight into it and grunting with the effort. ‘I can’t make it change, Uncle Ted! It’s too heavy!’

      ‘Squeeze the handle, like I showed you, lad. That releases it.’

      ‘Nnghh!’ Tom did as he was told and the lever released easily, sending him flying backwards across the shed. With a whistle the train shunted forwards. ‘I did it!’

      ‘You did indeed, young Tom. Well done.’

      Ted was sweating. That was the last time he’d let a child handle the signal levers alone. The train had been two minutes late leaving! He’d have to log that, in his notebooks that contained details of every train that passed through – but he wouldn’t log the reason why.

      *

      Norah and Margot were back at five o’clock. Margot had a bag of sweets in her hand from the village grocery shop, and Norah had a sherbet dip for each of the boys. ‘I hope you’ve been good for your uncle,’ she said, and Peter and Tom both nodded solemnly.

      ‘Well, off you go inside and play quietly now till teatime,’ Norah told the children, who ran off to the station garden. ‘You’re so good with the children, Teddy. You’d make an excellent father. I’ll put the kettle on for a cuppa.’

      ‘Thanks, Norah. There’s a train coming through shortly so I’m busy for a bit.’ It was the 17.21. Annie’s train. She’d be here soon, passing through the station, and he wanted to be ready for her, with his hair smoothed down, cap on straight, uniform brushed.

      ‘I’ll bring the tea through to you,’ Norah called, as she made her way to the little kitchen.

      Ted busied himself around the station, emptying a litter bin, straightening chairs in the waiting room, stacking the pile of used magazines. The signal was already at stop, so there was nothing more to do. He went out to the platform and looked along the line – no sign of the train yet, but he didn’t expect to see it. Back in the ticket office he paced up and down until Norah brought through his cup of tea.

      ‘Here you are, then,’ she said, as she handed it to him.

      It was at that moment that the station door opened and in came Annie, wearing her deep-green coat that had a pinched in waistline and a matching neat hat. She nodded to him, pulled out her ticket to show him as usual, and then walked through to the platform. It was a fine day so she sat on a bench on the platform rather than use the ladies’ waiting room that he’d just tidied up for her. His eyes followed her as always, and it was only when she’d taken a seat that he came back to himself, and realised he was holding his tea at an angle, spilling some over his boots.

      ‘Who is she?’ Norah asked, quietly.

      ‘Er, her name’s Annie Galbraith, I believe. She works in the National Provincial Bank in Lynford.’

      ‘You like her, don’t you?’

      He turned to stare at his sister. ‘I … I barely know her.’

      Norah smiled. ‘You don’t have to be well acquainted to know how you feel about her.’ She took a step closer to Ted and punched his arm, playfully. ‘If I didn’t know better, I’d think my little brother is in love, at last!’

      ‘I … no … what do you … I mean … well. She’s very beautiful.’ Ted spluttered as he glanced out to the platform where Annie still sat waiting patiently. She looked up, caught his eye and smiled. He was blushing furiously, he knew it, but it was time for him to be on the platform too. The train was due in one minute. ‘Ahem. We’ll talk about this later, Norah.’ He put down his cup of tea on the ticket-office counter, straightened his jacket and strode out to the platform just as the train pulled in. He dared not look at Annie as she climbed aboard the first-class carriage, and was for once thankful when all were aboard, he’d set the signal to clear, handed over the token and waved his flag.

      Norah joined him on the platform as the train puffed away. She laid a hand on his arm. ‘I’m sorry if I embarrassed you. It’s just, when that woman walked in – and yes, she is very beautiful – I could see you were smitten. You’re my little brother, Ted. You can’t hide anything from me! Now then, I noticed she didn’t say anything to you. If that was due to my presence, I am sorry.’

      Ted shook his head. ‘No, we don’t as a rule hold any conversations when she passes through.’ As a rule? Who was he kidding? He could count on one hand the number of words she’d ever spoken to him.

      ‘Well, I think you should rectify that,’ said Norah, with a smile and raised eyebrows. ‘Next time you see her, pay her some little compliment. I think she likes you, judging by that lovely smile she gave you. And smile back at her, for goodness’ sake! You stared at her today as though she had two heads!’

      Had he really? And would it work, if he overcame his shyness and actually spoke to Annie? He only knew her name and where she worked by following her that day. He couldn’t very well do that again. Norah was right. It was time he struck up a conversation with Annie. He had nothing to lose. In a few days, when Norah and the children had left, he would try it.

       Chapter 5

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