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MONTREAL
The rail tickets were good for a one-way trip from Montreal to New
Brunswick in Comfort Class. Lillian heard the train was pleasant with exquisite views and she was determined to
see a bit of Canada by train before Phillip would take them all back home to London.
As they
boarded, Lillian tried to persuade Philip to let the twins take the seats
directly in front of them, leaving the two behind for them to hold hands. She had never been in a rail car before and
was excited about the idea of a romantic voyage with her husband. Instead of acquiescing, Phillip told her he’d
be more comfortable with Ida being with her in the front and Dean being with
him directly behind them.
“They are only thirteen, darling,” he said,
offering his version of perfect British logic. “They may quarrel once they become bored.”
“You’re right dear,” Lillian took her seat
in the tall, grey upholstered chair and Ida flopped down next to her with a
sigh.
“Why do I have to sit here with you?” Ida
peeked through the space between the seats to see her father and brother. “I wish I were born a boy, so I wouldn’t have
to sit with my mum and do my homework.
You know they’ll be playing a game, don’t you? The minute we move Dad will start his game
and Dean will get to play with him.”
Ida’s deep blonde ringlets were too perfect
for a girl of thirteen; they belonged on a five year old, Lillian thought. She glanced out the window at the dreary
landscape. The train heaved to a start
and began to sway back and forth and move forward at the same time. A grey cement wall was next to the rusted, lonely
rails just outside her window; the view wasn't impressive and Lillian wished
for water or flowers.
“Get out your books, son.” Lillian heard Phillip direct Dean and she glanced
at Ida and raised her eyebrows, but her daughter pretended not to hear. Instead, she was plugging her ears with the
ear buds that connected to her phone.
After she was comfortable – and after Lillian could hear some music
coming from them – she retrieved a large history text and a simple spiral
notebook from her back pack.
Lillian tried to smile at her daughter, communicating
that she was proud of her, but Ida didn’t look up. Lillian returned to the
window and the train picked up speed.
She thought of holding her
husband’s hand, finally squeezing her arm through the small opening between the
seat and the window. She wiggled her
fingers, hoping he would take them into his own. Instead she heard his voice:
“Something you need, dear?”
“No, darling,” she answered, bringing her
arm back to her side. “Just saying
hello!”
SAINT-HYACINTHE STATION
Lillian had to use the ladies’ room and
stood up as soon as the train came to a stop.
She looked over her seat to see
Phillip sleeping, his head back and his mouth slightly open. It was only during sleep that her husband
seemed especially young to her. He was normally
stoic and preserved, but in sleep he seemed to be only a lad of eighteen. Dean,
upright next to him, had his ear buds
in, and his tray table down, scribbling out a report of some kind.
“Dean!”
He looked up, and Lillian smiled. Her son’s hair needed a trim and she tried to
brush his fringe back, but he moved his head to the side before she could touch
him.
“Mom!
What?”
“I’m going to the Ladies’ room. Do you want to come with me?”
Dean gave her a look mixed with incredulity
and disdain. “No.”
“Alright.
Ida? Coming?”
Her daughter didn’t look up, so Lillian
touched her shoulder. Ida moved forward,
agitated. “No!”
“Alright, then,” Lillian squeezed her slim
frame through the small space in front of her daughter and walked down the
aisle. “I’m off to find it myself.”
The rows of seats were neat and Lillian marveled
at how many people could fit on the train.
Passengers were in assorted positions of relaxation; many had unfolded
their tray tables. Some had reclined
their chairs and were sleeping, like Phillip.
She came to a sealed doorway, a blue button
where the handle should be caught her attention: “PUSH”. Lillian pushed it, but nothing happened. When she pushed it again, the door made a
hissing sound and opened, its glass doors disappearing into a pocketed wall.
“Proper!” Lillian walked through it, mindful
of the polished stainless steel floors that soon gave way to blue carpet. The walls were covered in matching pale blue
upholstery and Lillian wondered if they were padded for safety. Every wall she saw had a display of the
official flag of Quebec; the fleurs-de-lis were worked into every inch of décor
everywhere else.
Here and there were display cases with
model trains, a plaque underneath each one described its model, year of origin
and purpose on the rails. Once she had
seen enough glass-covered memorabilia, Lillian proceeded to the next car where
the toilet was located. The same pocket
doors allowed her passage; the same hissing noises welcomed her. The Ladies’ room was grand, its lights
encased in beautifully ornate wooden fleurs-de-lis and beautifully reproduced
silk orchids were everywhere.
Lillian loved each detail of the loo, nearly
taking a picture of the marble sinks just so she could show Ida once she
returned to her seat. She thought better
of it as she washed her hands and laughed to herself. She straightened upon seeing her
reflection. She was a beautiful woman of
forty, slim and impeccably dressed.
There was no shame in what she wore, although her children frequently accused
her of looking like someone’s Gran. She
wondered when she became such an embarrassment to her children. She wondered if it was the hound’s-tooth
prints she loved wearing; maybe it was the accessories (mostly pearls) or the
sensible shoes. Her hairstyle was
simple, parted in the middle and worn tied back. For picnics or outings she would sometimes let
her blonde hair down and she never once felt proud, even when strangers admired
it. To them she was beautiful.
Upon returning to her seat, Lillian saw
that Ida and Dean had taken the seats next to the windows. Phillip was on the aisle seat, awake and
reading a Canadian newspaper, written in French.
“Oh,” he acknowledged her as she
approached. “I’ve allowed the children
to take the windows for the second half of the journey. I do hope this is agreeable to you, darling.”
Both children were looking at her; she
nodded after a moment.
“We are not yet halfway,” she said, making
herself comfortable in the aisle seat. “We
will arrive in Charny soon and when we do, we can switch back again.”
Both children sighed. The train started again, swaying side to side
as it moved forward. Ida had been
glaring at her, but Lillian pretended not to notice.
CHARNY, QUEBEC
The air was biting when Lillian went to the
observation deck. Ida and Dean lagged
behind her; Phillip had gone to the bar car to procure some drinks for the
family. The train had stopped and the
conductors were encouraging passengers who needed a smoking break to proceed to
the open area at platform A. All other
passengers were free to walk about and explore.
The observation deck was little more than two cars -flattened on top - with
a handrail all the way around them.
“This is it?” Dean moaned at the top of the
stairs. Ida gave a half-hearted laugh
and made a noise with her throat.
“Big fun up here!” she lifted her arms to
the sky and then let them drop to her sides with a clap.
“Look there!” Lillian pointed over the tops
of trees to a tall flag pole, flying the maple leaf flag – the first she had
seen since she boarded the train. “I
knew there was one around!” She turned
toward her children, who grimaced at the flag.
“Have you noticed the absence of the maple leaf flag in Quebec? Like it really isn’t their flag at all?”
Ida and Dean looked at each other and shrugged. “Not really, Mum,” Dean said slowly. Ida looked at her nails.
“So here we are, then!” Phillip was ascending the stairs with a drink
carrier. Four paper cups steamed with
promise and Lillian felt encouragement and hope that one may be Earl Grey
Tea. Ida and Dean lunged forward,
grabbing the cups closest to them. “Hold
on, you two!” Philip took a step back, nearly missing the steps that he just
climbed.
“Look out!” Lillian shouted. It caused everyone on the observation deck to
look at them; the kids backed up, but Phillip glared at Lillian. “I’m sorry I shrieked, darling, “ she led him
by the elbow until he was safely away from the staircase.
“Yes, I nearly dropped the tray,” Phillip
was rigid; Lillian knew he was embarrassed.
“Yes, Mum,” Ida whispered loudly. “He nearly dropped our drinks, then where
would be be?”
Lillian looked carefully at the cups,
removing the one with a tea tab hanging out.
“I believe this one is mine,” she said.
She smelled the cup through its plastic top, even the sweet aroma of her
tea brought comfort.
“This is my coffee,” Phillip pointed at the
one closes to him. “The other two are
hot chocolate. Go ahead, take them.”
Ida had her arms firmly crossed in front of
her. “I don’t want mine now!”
“Alright if I have it, then?” Dean started
to remove both cups; Ida reached over and retrieved the one closest to
him. They elbowed each other briefly,
then pulled their paper cups free, splashing some of the contents on the floor. Before Phillip could correct them, they
walked to the rail that overlooked the flag.
“Goodness,” he exhaled, removing his own
cup from the holder. “I get the drinks and
this is the thanks I get! My wife
shouting at me, my kids quarreling What
next? Am I to endure ridicule from the
passengers?”
Lillian looked over her cup at him. “The milk and sugar are perfect, darling.”
Phillip softened. “Good.
I’ve been your husband for fifteen years and I’m just now getting it
right?
”
“I thought you were going to fall down the
stairs,” she said, gently. She tried to stroke
his arm, but he pretended to drink his coffee just to break free from her
touch.
“Well, I almost did, didn’t I? Ungrateful, that lot.”
“Now, Phillip,” Lillian half-heartedly
corrected him. A man carrying a guitar
ascended the stairs. He began to walk
among the passengers, singing. Lillian
knew he would come to them eventually and decided to go back to the bar car
before he had time to reach them. The
public serenading was fine for Americans and Canadians, but the British shied
away from that kind of thing.
“Phillip, let’s go into the bar car,” she
whispered. He was busy drinking his
coffee, but he turned toward the minstrel and agreed. His attempts to wave the children over were unsuccessful,
so he walked to where they stood; Lillian headed for the stairs. Before she could reach them, the man with the
guitar stepped in front of her. It made
her stop suddenly, and she felt cornered especially when he made eye contact
and smiled. The other passengers who had
seen this were smiling; some applauded. Lillian
felt her face grow warm and looked over her shoulder for Phillip. He was talking to Ida, who was pointing at
something in the trees.
“I
have often walked down this street before,
But I’ve
always felt the ground beneath my feet before,
All
at once am I
Several
stories high
Knowing
I’m on the street where you live…”
Lillian turned
back to the musician. He was dressed in
a simple white shirt and black pants.
She wondered if he was employed by the train; she couldn't imagine why
he was singing to her. There was a small
packet of sugar on the ground and she stooped to pick it up. She looked for a rubbish bin, just as she
heard Phillip behind her.
“Yes, yes,” he said, leaning over his wife
to stuff a five dollar note in the minstrel’s pocket. “Well done.
Thank you.”
Lillian tried to walk past the singing man,
who had moved on to another verse. As
she went down the stairs, she could tell he was still singing to her, facing
her as he sang. People in the bar car
looked up the stairs and then back at her.
She tried to avert their gaze, but it was no use. By the time she sat on the couch, her tea had
gone cold and the passengers were all staring at her.
“I want to go back to my seat,” she said.
Her voice sounded high and unnatural; her ears rang. Lillian stood and walked back through the
hallway with the fleurs-de-lis and memorabilia and finally into the comfort
cabin. The passengers looked up at her
as she walked in; she was embarrassed, thinking they all thought she was
beautiful and there was nothing she could do about it.
In ten minutes Phillip came back into the
comfort cab, carrying a paper cup of tea.
She looked up at him, filled with gratitude.
“Oh, thank you, darling.”
He sat next to her after she had cleared
Ida’s books away and placed them on the floor.
“The first had gone terribly cold and you hardly got to drink it.”
“Yes,” she said. She tried a sip and realized it was plain
China black tea, not Earl Grey. “This is nice, the milk and sugar are perfect.”
“There was no more Earl Grey, I’m afraid.”
“No?”
“Canadian train, you know.”
Lillian laughed quietly.
“I suppose you’ve recovered from your serenade?”
“Yes, I suppose so.”
“Charming chap, actually.”
“You think?”
“I think he fancies you, that’s what.”
Lillian waved her hand at him.
She heard a hissing sound and then the
voices of her children. They appeared
next to Phillip, giggling uncontrollably.
Lillian hadn’t seen them this happy their whole holiday.
“Mum, Dad,” Ida tried to speak without
laughing. “You must come and see these
Varsity students. They are playing a
game in the other sleeping car. Come and
see!”
“They each take turns sitting next to
someone who is asleep,” Dean whispered. “Then
they pretend they are also asleep. They….” The twins broke into violent laughter,
covering their mouths. “They lay their
heads on the shoulders of the sleeping ones.
Then they place their arms about their necks, almost as if they are
snuggling…” Again the laughter overtook
them, and brother and sister were doubled over, guffawing.
“Until the other wakes up, completely
startled!”
Lillian and Phillip, smiling, tried to see
why this made the twins so giddy.
“Is there more to this game that we’re not
understanding?” Phillip blinked his
eyes.
“The last chap woke up just as the student was putting his legs on his seat,” Ida
giggled, regaining her composure. “Here
was this chap almost crawling over to his side and the man was so polite! He told the student to wake up, and he was
smiling. It was hilarious!”
“Do sit down now,” Lillian said.
Ida let her shoulders drop and exhaled long.
“Please, Mum. Let us go see the strangers
sleeping side by side just to get us laughing again!”
“The train is about to start,” Lillian
began. Phillip interrupted her,
addressing both of his kids.
“Be back here in five minutes, you two,” he
said, waving a finger at them.
“We will,” Ida said before walking quickly
down the aisle, Dean close behind her. There
was the hiss of the door opening and then silence.
“They won’t be back in five minutes,”
Lillian said over her tea.
“I’m willing to go get them,” Phillip faced
her and smiled. She felt safer, suddenly. The tea
was sweetened just perfectly and had the right amount of milk. It wasn’t Earl Grey, like she
had hoped. Few things on the train were
perfect, but they would soon be in New Brunswick and it would all be over.
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