As soon as safe, she erupted into shakes, with bouts of little shallow huff and gulp breathing. She didn’t have a lot of tears, but the few that blurred her eyes, came from the soul.
It had taken me a minute or so to rumble the freakiness of the situation.
.
It was the weekend, late night and the tidal flow of revellers was home-bound.
These two had got in from the chaotic city centre pick-up office.
She sat herself quietly in the front seat and he got in the back, then shuffled across and settled directly behind me.
“Hi Boss… Busy?” He calmly and confidently enquired.
I would have responded, but the office marshall (the always happy one) was at my car window triumphantly announcing the area where these were going.
How he stayed happy was an amazement… this city centre pick-up office is chaotic.
The revellers pile in from the front street door… book a taxi at the desk… any nearby private-hire taxis get radioed in and arrive in the huge car park at the back… then the backdoor marshalls shout… “next!”
… and the next queued customers pile out of the office’s rear doors and grab at the car doors.
All this… whilst the marshall is on the radio to the inside desk, confirming the destination and relaying it through the driver’s door.
It’s often the case that several cars are streaming into the car park… so keeping the order of who is who, going where, is often chaotic… and in amongst the chaos is this always happy marshall.
This car loaded. The marshall ushered us away. We set off…. but not for long…..
Excerpt ends
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