He would enjoy doing so, in fact, for everything could be made safe if you were vigilant and reported things. There was no need to be afraid – not when you could phone, or text or speak to a member of staff – the transport police were there to save your life. He waited for silence, and when it came at last Amy was beside him, and she sat there as if they were married. She could almost take his hand, and offer him a mint – and yet how had he ever thought marriage would be better than solitude? How had he believed that, when he recalled the relief as he finally rolled back onto his side of the bed, having learned nothing and given nothing because he didn’t know what to give? After sex, they would adjust the duvet and sleep privately, dreaming separately – the touching was over. He felt wretched, but he’d done the right thing for her as well as himself – just as he would do the right thing at Crewe.

‘Crewe is the next station-stop.’

Someone on a train would say that, soon enough.

‘We are approaching Crewe. We will shortly be arriving in Crewe: be sure to take all your personal belongings with you.’

The voice might be male or female, and it would be as reassuring as the one he’d just heard.

‘Mind the gap between the train and the platform.’

That was the announcement he loved most, for the man who said it always sounded slightly frightened, as if he thought passengers had tiny legs. He seemed to think Michael was about to trip or slip, and find himself wedged helplessly as the train rolled on and slowly crushed his pelvis. All these people wanted was to keep him safe: they wanted him to drink water, and buy his tickets online so as to make savings. They wanted him to plan his journey so as to avoid delays, and claim compensation should anything ever go wrong. When he got up to leave the train, they wanted him to stop and take that extra moment to check he had his bag. In this unpredictable, unknowable world, they could protect him.

Amy had gone.

The woman next to him was still busy with her phone, and her headphones sat neatly in her ears. The summer was definitely back, and Michael breathed out, relaxed and relieved. He had his own refreshments – they were in a bag at his feet. There was no need to worry, really, about the absence of a trolley service. In any case, he only had three to four hours left, depending on the progress of the 09.46 – if that was the train he caught. He had flexibility, and he knew what he was doing. There was no better place than Crewe: that, at least, was a decision. The platforms were long, and they let you onto the lines gently. Nobody would notice you walking along the tracks.