“What do you expect, love?” he sneered.
“That you wouldn’t spend millions revamping New Street Station and leave a platform off the signs.” She hefted her bag up onto her shoulder. “Is construction finished? Can I get through now?”
He turned away, making her realise that the sign ‘Information’ wasn’t accurate either.
Yet signs in other senses were on her side. Finding the letter. Catching the PA in a good mood. And now the train delayed and waiting for her. Perfect.
Then she saw who was next to her.
“No, sir, but I’ve formed an opinion.” Terry shut the train door on the man and called for them to get underway. The rich prat’s angry face shouting as the train pulled out of New Street was worth the delay he’d caused.
That’ll teach him to try it on with a First Class ticket that costs a week’s wages.
“Tickets and passes,” called Terry. Standard class was sweaty and busy, he had to press by people and climb over bags. But now he waved at a mother, saying: “There are two empty seats here.”