NOVEL FROG Chapter 2: You're Finally Awake
Chapter 2: You're Finally Awake
When I woke up again, it was still dark outside, judging by what little of the window I could see while lying down. I was feeling reasonably well rested, and in a general state of comfort, barring the rather distinctive call of nature down below.
“I knew I should’ve gone before bed,” I muttered crossly, forcing myself up and off the bed.
I didn’t bother looking for my shoes, instead taking a quick trip to the en-suite bathroom to take care of business. I finished that up with a handful of cold water across my face, which was never a pleasant experience, but nonetheless highly effective at waking me up. Only then did I return to my bed, to grab my phone and check the time. There was still no signal, leaving my phone firmly in aeroplane mode, but more concerning was the fact that, according to the clock, it was only a few minutes after midnight.
“It’s not daylight savings tonight, is it?,” I muttered to myself, quickly taking a look at the calendar app.
That particular misunderstanding had been the cause of some embarrassment, back in my school days, but it clearly wasn’t the issue in the present: it was far too early in the month for that. Now, given that my phone was still locked when I picked it up, and showed no signs of some prankster having come in and changed the clock, this left me rather befuddled. I wouldn’t go as far as to claim it had been the best night of sleep in my life, or anything equally hyperbolic, but all the same, I was confident that I had slept, far longer than a mere twenty minutes.
“Still the same day,” I confirmed, tabbing back to the calendar.
I hadn’t slept through the entire day, then. That only made things more confusing. At this point, I still entertained the notion that I might have been the subject of some bizarre prank, so I did the logical thing, put my phone away, and went outside to look for the train staff. There was nobody else visible in the sleeper cars I passed, and there were still three of them, which fit what I could remember of the previous night. Not a sudden change in configuration, then. Probably.The Club Car was thankfully still occupied, and I spotted the waiter from dinner, still dressed immaculately in the traditional white shirt and black waistcoat.
“Dinner for one?” He asked, leading me to the same table as before.
I followed him along, mostly still lost in thought, until he asked me my preference, for how I take my water. That was when the alarm bells started to ring. I’d paid for the suite, you see, and that made me a VIP as far as the train was concerned. I had priority access to the Club Car, my own reserved table, and all the other trappings of first class service. Accordingly, I’d been asked this same question, the night before, and told them I preferred still water. Now, there was still a chance the waiter had simply forgotten, and was trying to play it off, but I fancy myself as decent when it comes to reading people, and he didn’t look quite sheepish enough for that gambit.
“This is my first time here,” I replied instead. “What do you recommend, for food and drink?”
I got sparkling water, that time, along with a curry and parsnip soup, a garlic mac and cheese, and a lovely single malt whisky from someplace I had no hope of pronouncing properly, even after asking the Waiter to repeat himself. The variety was nice, but truth be told, I was far less interested in the water and wine, than I was the other occupants of the Club Car. As before, I was the first at my table, but they soon filed in as well, and I kept a sharp eye on all the arrivals, looking for any hints as to what could be going on.
Unfortunately, I’d barely paid any attention to my surroundings the previous night; I’d been tired, and simply hadn’t deemed it important, given the supposedly transitory nature of this trip. My mistake, clearly, because with each and every new arrival, my sense of unease only grew. None of them were the same as during my previous meal, which wasn’t an issue in and of itself. God knew there were more passengers than tables in the Club Car, otherwise there’d be no need for a priority system at all. The problem, I realised, as I watched people arrive, was the sense of excitement in the room.
If you’ve ever travelled, you’ll know what I mean: there’s always the sense of excitement when beginning a new voyage, and this is true whether you’re travelling by land, sea or sky. This inevitably wears off as the journey progresses, replaced first by mundanity and then boredom, as passengers turn to their paperbacks and phones, but it was undeniably present, in the Club Car just then.
“Pardon me, but what day is it?” I asked the Waiter when he returned, soon after, bringing me my soup as a starter.
“It’s the 13th of October,” he replied, dashing my hopes of some electronic failure on my phone.
I nodded, not trusting myself with a verbal reply just then, and busied myself with the soup. Despite the oddity of the entire situation, I still did my best to enjoy the meal. I’d been raised in lean times, and wasting food simply wasn’t done, so I made sure to enjoy both courses, finish my wine and empty my plate, all while doing my best to memorise the faces I saw in the Club Car. Only once I was satisfied, did I shuffle back to my cabin, take off my shoes, and climb back into bed.
“Once could be a coincidence,” I murmured, pulling a pillow over my head. “If I wake up in Scotland, then I’ll chalk it down to some weird dream. Otherwise, this might be a problem.”