Chapter Seven
Tom woke up suddenly. It was 4.15 a.m. He was sweating and full of fear. He had just dreamt that some vampires were chasing him and the girl, who was slowing him down. They were in some kind of tunnel and did not seem able to escape.
He looked around his bedroom, the rest of his mind now realising that the nightmare was over. Then the feelings of last night returned. The shame at not having done more for the girl was mixed with that of guilt. He sat up and thought about his just waking up from a nightmare while the girl could still be in one. Yes, he thought to himself, the girl could still be alive.
He got up, went to the bathroom, and got a glass of water. He could no longer just assume the girl was dead. He could not say that she was definitely dead when he saw her being carried off by the creatures. Furthermore, he could not say with certainty that they had already killed her. There was a possibility they had not.
This meant that he had to do something else for her, but what? The authorities had already shown that they did not believe him: it was too fantastic. This meant all he could do was...was to return to the station himself. No, he could not do this. It would be too dangerous...too...He could not finish this thought.
He returned to his bed, just wanting to go back to sleep so that he did not have to think anymore about the situation. But he could not and after a few minutes of fidgeting he told himself that yes he would return to the disused tube station. But before he did so he would do an observation of it by riding through it by tube. This satisfied him from the point of view of helping the girl and that of keeping safe, at least for now. He set his alarm for 8 a.m. and shortly afterwards went back to sleep.
As soon as he heard his alarm go off he got up. He still felt tired but knew that he had a lot to do that day. He admitted to himself that he did feel better now that he had decided to return to the station to help the girl if she were still alive. His body also seemed to have nearly recovered from Sunday’s events. He had a shower, got dressed, and then had some breakfast.
While he was eating, he phoned his mother at her sister’s house, telling her he was studying hard, eating properly, and that he had not made too much mess. It had not even occurred to him to tell her about Sunday’s events and what he intended to do today. She would not only think him crazy but would worry about him and perhaps come home. He got dressed and left his house at about 9.15 a.m.
It was a little cloudy but not too cold for an October morning. He turned right outside his house, crossed the road, and then walked down the next road on the left. After about five minutes he was in Golders Green High Street. It was fairly busy with quite a lot of traffic and mainly middle-class people going about their business. Little did they know, Tom thought, about the nasty business going on not too far from them.
The entrance to Golders Green over-ground tube station had its usual suspicious-looking characters hanging around, perhaps waiting for their friends or family, perhaps not. Tom walked past them and joined the queue of people at the ticket barrier. He then got past this and went up to the southbound platform.
There were lots of people around but Tom felt quite nervous. He knew he was only going on an observation trip but his memories of what had happened to him on Sunday, the last time he had taken a tube, were not good. He did not even think about what he would have to do later.
He looked at the tube-time-display board: there was a southbound tube in one minute. He paced around nervously wondering if this were a good idea after all. What if the tube stopped again at the disused station? Damn, he thought, this had not occurred to him. He looked at his watch; surely a minute had passed by now. But London Underground’s minutes always seemed to be longer than everyone else’s.
He then heard and saw the tube coming. He could not back out now, he thought. He had to do something for the girl. He made sure he was with some other people, which was not difficult at this time in the morning. As he got on the tube, his worries lessened a little. As well as there being lots of people it was broad daylight. The creatures couldn’t do anything now: it would be too risky, he thought.
He sat down in the middle of a row of seats on the right so that his back would be towards the disused station. He wanted to be able to turn around and put his face close to the window so that he could get a good view of the station as the tube passed by it. He noticed that there were about fifteen-to-twenty people in the carriage, five of them sitting in his section of the tube.
The tube making its clickity-clack noise entered the tunnel to go underground, and Tom’s heartbeat went up a little. He quickly glanced around him at the other passengers but they did not seem to be worried by anything. He then turned around and looked out of the window: blackness, blackness, and more blackness with some large wires on the side of the tunnel.
After a minute or so of this the tube began to slow a little. Tom got as close as he could to the window, not wanting to miss anything. Then suddenly he saw it, the disused station where he had followed the creatures to, before they chased him. He felt excited but did not see much in the few seconds he had: mostly just the emergency entrance which led to the other stairs he had seen. He then looked at his watch and began to count down the seconds until the train got into Hampstead station. It was 9.36 am and 38 seconds.
He turned away from the window when his carriage reached the lit station; it took just over a minute-and-a-half. He had not realised ‘North End tube station’ was about half way between Golders Green and Hampstead. All the times he had travelled past it before he had not really given it much thought, just thinking it was, well, a disused station. What was the big deal?
He got up and waited for the doors to open and when they did left the tube and headed for the northbound platform. He could hear a tube coming and he rushed for it. He got there as it was just pulling in. It stopped and he walked onto it. He saw there were only three other people in the carriage, a young couple sitting at the other end and an old lady at his end. This bothered him a little but he was soon reassured as he noticed there were some other people in the adjoining carriages.
He sat down as the tube left the station and moved his head close to the window again. About a minute-and-a-half later, the northbound side of ‘North End’ rushed passed him as the tube went by it. Again he did not see much: just some of the shell of the station. He shuddered a little at the memory of his being there the other night. He then sat back again, beginning to seriously wonder if this observation trip had been a good idea.
I mean, what have I seen? he asked himself. Not much was the only answer to this question. He looked over at the old woman and the couple in the other part of the carriage. Well, I suppose one thing I have achieved not being scared to go on the tube again, he thought.
He continued to question the point of the trip until he returned to Golders Green tube station. But he decided that as he was here he might as well do one more round trip. He did so with the same results: two brief glimpses of two sides of a disused station.
Just after he had passed the northbound side of the station on the return journey to Golders Green, he noticed a newspaper on the seat in front of him and picked it up, wanting some distraction. He opened the first page and scanned through the articles. One of them soon caught his eye, ‘Girl goes missing after night out’.
He quickly read through it. A 17-year-old girl called Jodie Simmons from Brent Cross had been out with some friends in the West End of London on Sunday night but had failed to come home. Tom then swallowed hard as he read the description of her. She was about five feet in height with short blonde spiky hair. She was wearing jeans with a short white jacket. Bloody hell, he thought to himself, It’s the girl!
The tube was by now pulling into Golders Green tube station. Tom had been so engrossed in the article that he had failed to notice the tube coming out of the tunnel. He looked up at the other passengers almost in a challenging way. He now realised that he could no longer delay trying to help the girl. He could waste no more time:
he had to return to North End and try to find the girl - whether she was dead or alive.
The tube stopped and Tom walked out with the paper still in his hand. He checked his watch: it was 9.52 a.m. He walked quickly towards the exit stairs with a new resolve. But he was not so absorbed in what he had to do that he did not have the feeling someone was watching him.
He looked around him to see if he could see anyone. But all he saw were some other passengers and some London Underground staff, including a small, slightly fat, and odd-looking driver with intense squint-like eyes. None of them seemed to be looking at him, however, and he thought nothing of it and continued on his way.
Behind him, however, the odd-looking driver again intently followed Tom’s movements with nothing but ill will behind his squint-like eyes.