After a Gruelling Night Shift, Tanya Longed for Sleep—But a Stranded Stranger, Thrown from a Train a…

After a gruelling night shift, Emily was so tired she could barely drag her feet along. The biting cold had turned to a soggy thaw; each day brought more sleet, and with every step, Emily nearly performed her own ice rink routine, teetering precariously over patches of slush concealing treacherous ice beneath.

No chance to lie down that nightnot with an endless parade of emergencies. First a boy with appendicitis, then a little old lady whod snapped her hip. People, it seemed, specifically waited until after sunset to call an ambulance and enjoy a midnight trip to St Georges. Emilys only thought was of her bed: get in, collapse, sleep until next Tuesday. Concentrating hard on not breaking her own neck, she didnt notice a man separate himself from the shadow of a Victorian terraced house and plant himself in her way.

She halted, looked up. Standing before her was a man of about fortydishevelled, battered, looking either freshly mugged or recently auditioned for Pirates of the Thames. His face sported cuts and bruises, his soggy, ill-fitting clothes screamed lost property box at the charity shop. Lacking the energy to run away, Emily sidestepped, but before she could escape, the man spoke.

Sorry, can you help me? he said, rather pitifully.

As a nurse, Emilys reflex at cries for help was as involuntary as a sneeze. She paused, sighing internally.

II The man gripped his head, eyes squeezed tight in pain. They threw me off a train, they did. Lucky there was a mound of snowdidnt break anything, just collected some new bruises.

Try drinking less, Emily muttered, making another attempt to edge past.

I wasnt drunk! I only had tea! Someone mustve slipped something into my cuppa. I dozed off straight away, was robbed blind. They even stole my clotheslucky they had the decency not to shove me out on the tracks in my birthday suit. Only just off your station.

Oh, what luck, she replied drily. You need the police. And the hospital. She eyed him with professional suspicion. Headache? Nausea? Probably concussion. She moved to skirt around him again.

I already tried the police. Next trains hours away. Didnt fancy waiting at the station, stinking and freezing. There were two blokes in the compartmentthe dodgy-looking one with a fake beard and glasses, pretending to be a professor, and someone else. The police said well, beard probably fake, glasses too. Anyway, I got off lightly, all things considered. If I could just get somewhere to clean up and borrow some dry clothesIll bring them back.

Well, arent you optimistic! Emily scoffed. Perhaps youd like my flat keys toomoneys just on the kitchen table. She rolled her eyes at the audacity.

Everyones so suspicious. Honestly, why am I so unlucky? The man raised his head to the heavens with melodramatic suffering. Emily, ever the nurse, took in his accent and manner. Homeless types usually didnt quote Agatha Christie or apologise for intruding.

Oh, all right. Come on, before you catch your death. Ill find you something to wear.

Youre a saint! Everyone else ran off the moment they saw me, he said, following her.

Inside, Emily slumped onto her hallway pouffe, legs throbbing and eyelids heavy enough to qualify as blackout blinds. Bathrooms that way, she said, gesturing down the narrow hall, Ill dig out some clothes. Whats your name, by the way?

Matthew. He located the light switch, disappeared behind the bathroom door, and soon the flat filled with the welcome sound of a proper English power shower.

Emily sighed. Goodbye dreams of rest. Her brother had been in London for yonks now, but a few items of his still lurked at the back of the wardrobe. He wont miss them. She gathered up the least embarrassing pieces and set them on the hallway dresser, calling through the door once the water stopped.

She put some soup in a bowl, set the microwave whirring. A sudden panic hit: if Mum came home now, how on earth would she explain a strange chap soaking in their bathroom and soup heating up for his post-trauma snack? Please let Mum be stuck at Sainsburys or chatting with Mrs. Henderson, she fervently hoped.

Fat chance. The lock clicked and in bustled Mum.

Em, that you?Oh, I thought you were in the shower! Whos in there, then? Mum squinted suspiciously.

Dont shout. Random chap thrown off a train. Hell clean up and go. Ill sort him out.

That your brothers jumper? Whats happened?

I told you. Robbed, thrown off the train.

And you brought him home? What if hes a criminal? A maniac! I got here just in time. Maybe I should ring the police? Mum, spiralling, began hunting for the phone.

Dont be daft! Hes been to the police. No trains till laterengineering works. Hell finish up and leave. Emily dropped her voice for calm effect.

The shower stopped. Matthew retrieved the clothes with a grateful nod. Emilys mum planted herself in the kitchen, ready for an interrogation. Matthew soon emerged, sheepish, smelling faintly of Lynx Africa, and lookingwell, slightly less like an extra from Oliver Twist.

Lets have a look at you then. Cant believe a big lad like you got mugged in broad daylight! Mum was sceptical.

Sorry for crashing your home. Was heading to my daughters wedding on the night train. Dozed off after some tea; woke up penniless, phoneless, jacketless. They even put me in some ghastly rags before tipping me out. All I had left was the worlds worst pair of trousers.

And what brings you here? Were not exactly next to Kings Cross, Mum interrogated further.

Mum! Let him eat first, will you? Emily rolled her eyes. Soups on, Matthew.

Emily used to bring home stray kittens and puppies when she was littlenow its train victims, Mum grumbled but moved aside for Matthew.

Tuck in, Matthew! Fair warning though: win over my mum, and youll never escape, Emily warned, deploying maximum sarcasm.

If only youd work less overtimeits always children and pensioners in your wards. Its nearly thirty, Em, time you settled down. How can I pass on if youre still footloose and fancy-free? Mum was off and running.

Oh give it a rest, Mum! Matthew will think were planning his wedding next, Emily tried reassuring him with a wink.

Mum retreated, grumbling, to her room. Matthew sipped his soup. Your mums formidable.

She raised me and my brother on her own. Worries Ill end up alone with a cat and a microwave dinner.

What about you? You a doctor?

Nurse. Waithow will you buy another ticket without ID? Or money? Emily worried.

Police said theyd help out. May I borrow your phone to let my daughter know Im not coming, and ring a mate for a lift?

Go on then. Emily handed over her phone, while her mother, convinced of Matthews criminal potential, scuttled past clutching her jewellery box, muttering something about playing it safe at Auntie Margarets.

Emily watched as Matthew phoned his daughterher face told her the daughter was more baffled than bereft by her fathers absence. He then dialled someone else and asked Emily for their address.

Great, my mate will pick me up. Shouldnt have come anyway. My ex didnt want me meeting her new husband. My daughter insisted. All that for nothing.

You must be somebody important if you have a chauffeur on speed dial! Emily couldnt help but smile. In her brothers jumper (a somewhat snug fit), Matthew looked halfway respectable.

My mate and I run a little tech repair business. Its nothing grand. He said dont drive, youll get lost and probably drink too much at the wedding. Would’ve been better off flying. Anywayits just a few hours; youve been kind enough already.

Emily stared out the window, imagining an alternate life: home from work, greeted by a husband, children waiting for her. Nearly thirty, still living with Mum, nothing ahead except different shifts and the odd broken heart. She remembered Leonshe’d fallen for him, planned a future, and found him in bed with her best friend. Shed lost a fiancé and a mate all in one go.

Youre a good person, said Matthew suddenly, Things will work out for you, youll see.

And what about you? Why are you singlelook at you, business and all.

Ah, right. On the wedding circuit alone, Im afraid. Got divorced, never met another kind soul like you. Modern women want too much, modern men too, to be fair. Im sorry I ruined your day off.

They talked until dusk, only interrupted by Matthews phone ringing. Thatll be my lift. Thanks again, Emily. He set the phone down gently. I saved my numberMatthew from the trainthough I doubt youll ring. Still, if you ever need a favour, you know who to call. And dont worry, Ill return your brothers clothes. Tell your mum Im not a burglar, will you? He shot her a sad smile which almost made Emily cry.

A stranger, really, yet she didnt want him to leave. But who was she, and who was he? Emily forced a smile. Try to avoid more train adventures.

No more trains for me. Its planes or nothing from now on! He managed a grin.

Emily watched through the frosty window as Matthew disappeared into the wintry dusk, hopping into a car and, before leaving, catching her eye and waving.

Thats that then. Tomorrow hell barely remember me, she thought, feeling an unexpected pang.

Did you let him go? Mum asked, returning early.

One minute youre furious I brought him in, next youre cross I let him leave. Cant win with you! Emily tried not to show her disappointment.

He was a good manyou could tell.

Funny, since you hid your precious fake pearls.

Im an old fool, thats why, Mum sighed.

Three weeks passed. New Years Eve arrived. Emily half-convinced herself shed dreamt Matthew. Everything seemed implausible in retrospect. Her night shift promised to be quiet; not many patients lingered over the holidays, and barring any wild accidents, it looked like she might even get a nap.

On again tonight, Em? grinned Mr. Thompson, the surgeon. Hed worked out the rota just so, she was surea connoisseur of junior nurses, if ever there was one, and about as subtle as a brass band. Emily played along as if oblivious.

Suddenly, Lucy from A&E burst in. Youll never believe whos here! Father Christmas himself! With an actual sack of presents. He wants to visit the wards and cheer everyone up. Shall we let him in?

Father Christmas? Mr. Thompson arched a brow. Why not? Shall we, Emily? He took her arm as they ventured out.

Across the corridor, a booming voice was trying to negotiate with the receptionist. Clad in a gaudy red robe, hat, cotton-wool beard, and dragging a bulging sack, Father Christmas insisted on visiting every patient.

Dashed all the way from Lapland, only to meet resistance! he exclaimed, his voice oddly familiar.

I thought Father Christmas lived in Greenland, quipped Mr. Thompson. No loud caroling, pleasepatients need rest.

Father Christmas doled out tangerines and sweets, his improvisational generosity making pensioners beam from ear to ear. Alice from cardiology begged him to visit her ward, and for a second, he gazed at Emily in a panic.

Scuse me, Mr. Claus, but Im keeping my snow maiden. Bring your own next year, Mr. Thompson teased, pulling Emily away.

Fifteen minutes later, Father Christmas reappeared, beard askew and robe undone, sack slung over his shoulder looking ready for the tip. Emily burst out laughingit was Matthew.

Knew youd be on shift, he said, hope shining in his eyes. Thought Id cheer you up. Did it work?

It didyoull have the old ladies talking for weeks! Emily laughed.

Looks like Im on solo night duty then, Mr. Thompson stage-whispered. Go on, Emily, enjoy your date with Father ChristmasLucy can help me if needed.

This time, Emily didnt need persuading. A month later, she handed in her notice and joined Matthew in his home. Her mother was overjoyed. My daughters settlednow I can go in peace!not that I will, grandchildren to spoil and all that! She perked up immediately.

Funny, isnt it? People call every bit of bad luck fate, but anything gooda mere coincidence. The truth, probably, is that you never get one without the other.