The Passenger by Daniel Hurst (ready to read books .TXT) 📗

The woman picks up the newspaper, and I expect her to continue to make her way to one of the many other empty seats in the carriage, but instead, she sits down opposite me at this table.

‘You don’t mind, do you?’ she says, and while I initially do, I realise it may not be such a bad thing after all.

So what if I had no luck with the redhead.

Maybe that’s because I was supposed to meet this blonde.

I smile at the woman as she settles into her seat, noticing that she is attractive from what I can see of her face behind the sunglasses. I’m surprised she hasn’t removed them yet, but I’m guessing she is wearing them to make a fashion statement rather than because it’s particularly bright on this train. She looks to be much older than me, closer to forty, but that doesn’t have to be a bad thing. After the last few weeks with a younger woman, maybe an older one is just what I need.

I decide to put my phone back into my pocket, figuring there will be plenty of time to try to get the ring valued when I get to Amsterdam. For now, I’ll try my luck with this pretty passenger opposite me. But before I initiate a conversation, I go to return the ring to my pocket.

That’s when the woman compliments me on it and asks if she can have a closer look.

I’m obviously reluctant to hand it over considering I now know what it relates to, so I need to reject her question but in a way that still makes me look good.

‘I’m sorry,’ I say, putting the precious ring on my finger. ‘It’s very valuable, and I worry when it’s in somebody else’s hands. Even ones as dainty as yours.’

47

AMANDA

I’m disappointed that James didn’t just hand me the ring, but I always knew it wasn’t going to be as easy as that. He looks so smug sitting there with it on his hand, and I’m sure he is looking forward to pawning it as soon as he gets to Amsterdam. But that won’t be happening now, nor will he be getting to spend any of the money that I know is packed into that rucksack on the seat beside him.

Now that I have found these things again, it’s time to end this, once and for all.

‘I understand,’ I reply, maintaining my pleasant demeanour. ‘It really is a beautiful ring.’

‘Thanks,’ he says, fiddling with it a little before turning the conversation back onto me.

‘So what takes you to Amsterdam?’ he asks while very deliberately using his ring hand to scratch his stubble, and I wonder if he is flashing the expensive item of jewellery at me on purpose. Is he trying to impress me? If so, then I don’t have to worry about him figuring out who I really am.

He obviously doesn’t have the slightest idea.

‘Pleasure,’ I reply, with a smirk, and he seems to like that answer.

‘And you?’ I ask.

‘The same,’ he replies.

‘Here’s to pleasure, then,’ I say suggestively, running my fingers through my fake blonde hair.

I wait for the passenger who has just entered our carriage to make her way past our table before I pick up my handbag from the seat beside me and take out the large packet of crisps inside.

‘You don’t mind if I open these, do you?’ I ask him. ‘It’s just I’ve been in such a rush all day, I’ve barely had time to eat.’

‘Not at all,’ he replies, and I smile again. He certainly wasn’t being this pleasant to me a couple of hours ago. Nor was he being this way with my daughter. It’s the knowledge of what he has put Louise through today that gives me the encouragement I need to do what I am about to do, guilt-free and conscience clear.

Just as I’m about to open the bag, I notice the commotion on the neighbouring platforms outside the train window. The crowd has grown larger as more and more people try to get a good look at what happened with the man who went under the train, and I know it won’t be long until the police are on the scene. I need to be long gone by then, which means I can’t afford to waste another second.

I put both my hands on the top of the crisp packet and pull as hard as I can, deliberately tearing the packet open too much and causing the entire contents of the bag to erupt all over both the table and my fellow passenger.

‘Oh, my gosh, I’m so sorry!’ I say, feigning horror at what I’ve just done. ‘I guess I don’t know my own strength!’

James doesn’t look to thrilled about what has just happened, but he’s a good sport, and he tells me not to worry about it, before doing the exact thing that I was hoping he would do.

He begins to pick up several of the crisps that have fallen onto his clothes and his rucksack, directly bringing them into contact with his skin.

I tidy up the crisps on the table at the same time for show, but I’m now just waiting for the real show to begin. I wonder how long it will take. Louise told me that it would be fast. Within seconds, she said. Was she exaggerating? Or was she right?

Ten seconds later, I get my answer.

A worried look suddenly flashes across James’s face, and he puts his hand to his throat, looking up at me with fear in his eyes.

‘Are you okay?’ I ask him, doing my best to pretend like I genuinely give a damn.

But he doesn’t give me an answer. He doesn’t have to. His red face says it all.

‘What is in those crisps?’ he asks me as he begins to grow more panicked by the second.

‘What do you mean?’

‘The crisps? Do they have peanuts in?’

I pull my face and play dumb, stalling for time because I know