At Hornsby, enough people got off the train so Eddie and I could move to the same seat and talk about the misunderstanding we’d had on Sunday. He’d phoned me at work that day, so I knew we weren’t going to get a divorce, but I wasn’t smiling yet because I was the one who had wandered off to check the movie time-table during the surf check and I’d texted him instead of phoning him and he hadn’t heard the message tone so he didn’t check his phone until after he’d gone back to the car and waited there for a while and then stood outside the girls loos for another while before checking down by the lake and then at a clothes-shop he thought I might be in.

As I scooted across to the window seat Eddie sat down beside me and the guy with curly brown hair leaning against the window two seats up and to our right answered his phone. “Hey. Thanks for calling. My son got hit by a truck this morning and I’m going to the hospital now to turn off his life support. I want you to be there.” The man sitting in the seat facing him stuffing hot chips in his mouth five at a time stopped chewing. The girl sitting two seats up from us snapped around and then back again. I whispered to Eddie who had on his headphones that I was OK but that the guy-over-there’s son had been hit by a truck. Eddie frowned and took off his headphones. The man sitting in the seat facing the guy with curly brown hair swallowed his mouthful and picked his nose. Everyone else looked out the window.

The guy with curly brown hair answered his phone again. “My son got hit by a truck this morning. I’ve gotta go and turn his life support off tonight. It’s the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.” And then again. “Yip. I’m on the train. Can you pick me up at *****? I’d like that. Yip. I’ll call you when I get close.” And again. “I’m sorry Darl. I’m coming. I’m on the train. I’m just past Hornsby. I’m coming as fast as I can.” When he stood up to get something from his bag, Eddie and I turned to see what a man who has to travel by train from Sydney to Newcastle to turn off his son’s life support looks like. And then we looked away because he wasn’t on TV.

We got off the train at our stop and as we walked along the platform Eddie said “The poor fucker” and I said “Yeah” and we walked to our car, got in, and talked out our differences on the way home.

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