“The next train arriving will be the 9.20 p.m to Portrush.” The robotic voice spewed forth its  melancholic message to the impatient passengers. The night was cold and shelter at the station was sparse as November Christmas shoppers crowded the platform, littering the ground with garishly wrapped packages and bulging bags.

Nuala sat alone, nursing her current novel, not craving company, happier by herself. On hearing the announcement, she gathered her belongings and started towards the track to board her train for home, intent on obtaining a solitary seat to again enjoy a few more chapters of her very interesting book. Glancing across the rails towards the opposite platform, she saw him. For the first time she saw him. Standing straight and tall, a truant from a boring theatre show or fleeing a first night fiasco, he looked the part. Grey pin-striped suit, light coloured loafers and a  trilby perched jauntily on his dark, greying head. He seemed elusive, a wisp of smoke guaranteed to disappear in a heartbeat..

She was transfixed, mesmerised, hypnotised by his presence, unable to look away. He seemed to seek her out, seductively smiling, sensing her interest, intent on drawing her closer. Powerless to resist the pull of his magnetism she stepped towards him, every fibre of her being longing for his touch. She didn’t know this man, had never spoken to him nor seen him anywhere but here. What was she doing? But she knew she loved him, wanted him, lusted after him, longed for his embrace and his sensual seductiveness.

She stepped closer, belongings discarded, lying lost on the asphalt, fellow passengers forgotten in the haziness of her head. Closer, clearer, she could see his eyes. Brilliant blue eyes, blazing, beckoning, bursting with promises of bawdiness and bedroom frolics.

Nearer, never stopping, Nuala approached her destiny, determined to deliver herself to this dream.

Almost there, my love, I’m coming. Wait for me. He touched his trilby lightly with his long, pale fingers and nodded to her. She could feel the tingle as those sensitive fingers slid softly across the front of his hat, caressing the felt material and teasing the edge of the black encircling band. Her legs gave way and she fell forward, then instantly fell back as two strong arms grabbed her, pulling her unceremoniously out of harm’s way.

“What the hell were you trying to do, Lady? You could’ve been killed.”

Nuala lay stunned, hypnotic influence still holding her captive, senses straining to succumb to sweet surrender. With a supreme effort she gave her mind and body a vigorous shake, returning some sort of normality to she who is Nuala.

Impatiently shrugging off the stranger’s arms, she struggled to her feet and turned to him.

” I assure you, my good man, I was not attempting suicide. Just a slight lapse of concentration and I thank you for your hero’s stance. But tell me, did you see the gentleman in the grey suit on the opposite platform?”

As she uttered these words, a whispering wind caressed her cheek and a virile voice breathed in her ear: “Next time, my Love, next time.”

Nuala vowed there and then that that would be the last time she ever read Fifty Shades of Grey on a station platform late at night, especially after just watching Lady Chatterly’s Lover on the big screen!