Cecelia Ahern Short Stories Read Free Page B

felt a thing
, just to make herself feel better, so she could sleep well that night and rest easy in her bubble?
    Four minutes. His granddad. What would he think? Would he even know what had happened, or understand? He could imagine him being told by the nurse that his only grandson had passed away. He could imagine him asking, ‘What grandson? Steven who?’ and settling down to watch his geraniums blow in the breeze on his windowsill. Steven smiled as he walked faster and faster to the end of the platform, his head dizzy with relief. He needed to get off the platform now and onto the tracks so that he caught the train before it slowed down. He wanted to have to do this only once.
    He crossed the yellow line and jumped down off the platform. He could see a man on the opposite platform waving frantically but he couldn’t hear a word he said. His mind was focused on the sounds of the train as it approached the bridge over the city, the wail of the horn, the vibrations on the tracks, the hiss and squeal of the wheels. His heart beat faster, his throat dried up and he loosened his tie. He glanced back at the board. One minute. His parents. What would they think? This would destroy them. He pictured them receiving the news, remembering their last conversation on the phone when he told them both he loved them, how they had joked and laughed together and how he had sounded happier than they could remember in a long time. As he walked along the edge of the track towards the train, high above the city, the Liffey below him, he thought about what they would be doing now. His father would be out in his garden on this fine day and his mother would be on the phone. She was always on the phone. His father would be calling things to her, giving her a step-by-step narration of the state of the garden while she waved at him wildly, trying to signal to him that she was on the phone. But he’d keep talking anyway.
    He noticed he had stopped walking and was midway over the bridge. The train was coming; the ground beneath his feet was shaking. It was time to look up to the sky and admit defeat. He had had enough. Now was his time. If he was going to do it, he had to step out now.
    His hair blew wildly as he pressed his eyes together fiercely, holding his breath. His heart beat faster and the blood in his veins pumped violently around his body. He could feel his pulse beating in his throat. The sound was unbearable, a loud thunderous sound, like the sky falling down around him. And then the wind stopped. His hair stopped blowing and his chest relaxed.
    Steven opened his eyes, breathed deeply, peeled himself from the side of the bridge and shakily climbed back up onto the platform.
    Twenty-four minutes. A long time to have to wait to die. Exactly how long it took him to figure out he didn’t want to.

3 Next Stop: Table for Two
    Lucy leaned her head against the window and felt the vibrations as the DART pulled away from the station. Her head repeatedly bumped against the glass as the carriage trembled. Like her, it seemed tired and fed up as it rattled along the tracks, shuddering occasionally as if almost falling asleep and then suddenly jerking awake in fright. Lucy tried to keep her eyes open. She sank down into the uncomfortable seat and looked around the carriage.
    Couples.
    Everywhere.
    She decided to keep her eyes closed. The rhythmic rocking of the train comforted her and she felt herself drifting away. The train shuddered, Lucy’s head jerked and her eyes flew open. They were stopping again. There was something about the train that she felt she connected with. It felt to her as if it too was tired of doing the same thing every day; tired of going up and down the same route all day, only being permitted to stop and start, stop and start and never fully gather speed. The monotony of it all made Lucy yawn.
    She understood how it felt being surrounded by crowds of people every day, never physically being alone but all the time feeling it.