‘Do you see her?’ I ask the nearby station master.
‘I do, lass.’
‘Who is she?’
‘A Victorian lady. She was waiting on the platform for her betrothed to arrive on the London train when she was informed of his sudden demise
Heartbroken, she flung herself onto the tracks…haunted the platform ever since…cursing anyone who sees her to never wed.’ The station master sighs. ‘Never married meself.’
My mobile rings.
‘We need to talk…’
My fiancé’s train has arrived. He doesn’t alight.
My heart breaks.