by Melvyn Bragg
Behind him, Alex said abruptly, ‘You did me a favour once, Sam. Remember? I told you I’d never thanked you enough?’
Sam barely nodded, mesmerised by the wife and son he was leaving behind. Joe was waving.
Alex pushed Sam to one side and threw his kitbag out of the window. He leaned out, opened the door and shoved the suitcase into his hand.
‘Jump!’ he said. ‘Go on, Sam. Jump!’
Sam lay sprawled on the platform. He looked back at the train. Alex executed a mock salute.
He got up and collected his kitbag and began to walk towards them. Sent by Ellen, Joe ran, though not flat out, towards him and Sam squatted down and took the impact of the small boy.
‘Maybe I’ll go another time,’ he said. ‘When we can all go. All three of us.’
‘Yes,’ Joe said.
‘How’s that straight left, eh?’
Sam half averted his head and offered his cheek. Joe looked at him waiting.
‘Go on then,’ he said, ‘let’s see it.’
Joe swung and his soft fist landed plum on target.
‘That’s good,’ said Sam. ‘You’re coming on.’
He put the kitbag under his arm and took Joe’s hand in his and together they walked towards Ellen who stood, in tears now, rooted to the spot.
