The Train to Brighton

Herewith is an odd tale of intrigue, observation and things to do on a train.
The illustration is mine but the words are all mom's.

I wouldn’t blame you if you thought I had seen too many Hitchcock films or had an over active imagination and you might even be right, but I saw what I saw and I was hardly an innocent babe in the woods. I had traveled, lived in Ireland, was dating a wild Yugoslav Serb, had dated men from several different cultures and was very familiar with Asians and Arabs. And I was in my 70’s. From the beginning I was very suspicious and was concerned enough to make mental notes of everything I saw, trying not to be seen staring. Afterward I wrote it all down. My youngest son was a lawyer with the Air Force, stationed in England. We had dinner later at a club in Piccadilly and I gave him the story. He is usually the first to tell me I am full of it but seemed to take it seriously, and said nothing.

My friend Lee and I were on a theatre tour of London and Ireland. I did not realize Lee was in the first stages of dementia or I might not have gone. There were times when I was very impatient with her such as when she left her coat and purse by the door of the ladies room on the pier at Brighton, while she was in a cubicle. I was shocked at her naiveté.

We had decided to go to Brighton for the day as a change from London and I wanted to see the Brighton Pavilion. Beautiful architecture with a Chinese décor. We took the train from Victoria station. We sat facing each other so we could each have a window seat. Just before the train left, six people got on and sat next to us. We were women in our 70’s so we were almost invisible to them. They ignored us. A large man in a business suit, shirt and tie with very black skin stood in the aisle looking at me waiting for an invitation to sit next to me. I smiled and pointed to the seat, He had a briefcase which he opened, took out some papers and kept them on his lap. I saw the word law on one of them but some of it was written in a language I didn’t recognize. I have an eye for design and pattern and later described it to a friend who said it looked like Farsi. Unlike the others, the man seemed quite western in manner, culture and education. He spoke with a British accent. I assumed he was their lawyer.

A woman came with them, about 40, chin length curly hair like an unset permanent, no makeup and wearing an inexpensive tan coat. She got on quickly and took the window seat across the aisle from me. She had a small boy with her about eight or nine who quickly and quietly got on and sat on her lap. They never spoke.

They were followed by two dark haired men in jeans and jean jackets.   I assumed they were Arabs but I wasn’t sure. They each took an aisle seat, one sitting next to the woman but both facing us. They had no input but sat there intently listening. They seemed to be merely minions.

Then, a taller man about 40, thinning hair and not as dark complexioned as the other two, wearing jeans and a black leather jacket, sat down next to my friend facing me. He was definitely the leader.  The woman and child seemed to belong to the leader and acted as if they knew their place, being quiet and unobtrusive. The leader immediately started making calls on his cell, speaking in a language I didn’t recognize and reporting to the lawyer. He was very excited and happy with whatever he was hearing. I am a bit familiar with Asian languages, Russian, Arabic and Hebrew but this was different. From the minute they all sat down I thought they might be terrorists.

While I sat there tense and observing, Lee was rattling on saying way too much about us and what we were doing. I tried not to look at her and gave her one word comments hoping she would take the hint. But she didn’t. She paid no attention to our seat mates. Later, when I told her the story she thought I was crazy.

The more I watched the leader the more convinced I was that it was what it seemed. He was very excited after each call. I had the feeling he was getting reports about recruiting or some activity that was coming together very successfully. Finally I said to the lawyer “Would you all be more comfortable if we moved to another seat?” He said it wasn’t necessary because they were getting off soon.

When the train stopped at East Croydon they quickly got up and left. The platform was filled with men in dark suits and overcoats. I thought it strange because it was mid morning. A bit late for commuters

A few days later there was an announcement in the paper that said the SAS had thwarted a terrorist plan. I will never know if there was a connection. The paper did not mention a nationality.

 

-Jean Clarice Walsh

 

I will post the next one in a couple of days - it's titled "Childhood" and promises to be one of my faves.