The Last Chapter

How could she help her fellow passenger if she couldn’t get to the bottom of her distress?

- Lisa Connelly

It wasn’t until I’d safely stowed my bags and sat down that I noticed the woman opposite me was crying. And had been for some time, judging by the blotches and smudges on her face. The eye contact between us was as awkward as it was fleeting.

I congratulated myself silently on yet another poor decision. I had a similar skill at the supermarket when selecting which checkout queue to join.

Glancing around the carriage, I could see other free seats, but my laden presence had been obvious to everyone when I’d embarked. To move now would only draw attention to us both. Not to mention the fact that my bags were heavy. I wasn’t keen to have to hoist them above my head again.

So, unaccustomed as I was to the etiquette of train travel and tears, I adopted an expression of apologetic resignation and arranged myself with as little disruption as possible.

I’ve never been great when confronted with somebody crying. I always feel torn between the desire to comfort them and the knowledge that I should mind my own business. If experience has taught me anything, it’s that there really is no correct procedure to follow when it comes to these matters.