LADY ANN'S FOLLY: Chapter Six - Part Eight

By the time she reached Griply village, Ann was utterly exhausted.

She had run until she couldn’t anymore then slowed, only to run again as soon as she could. Her throat was stripped raw in the cool air and sweat was streaking down her face, cleaning the grime in narrow sorrowful streaks. Her back and hair was soaking with perspiration. Her calves felt like series of needles were pinned into them. Her new body might have been as young as her former one, give or take a year or two, but it wasn’t built for speed. With her broad hips and bountiful bosom, running was the very last thing it was built for.

But she didn’t stop. She daren’t. Any wasted time could mean that the noose would tighten, trapping her in this new state. She had to keep going, despite the pain. She paused, just for a moment, then ran on, ignoring the curious looks of passersby. Someone laughed at her ungainly pace but she tried not to hear them – to compare the derision to the respect she had enjoyed as the lady of the manor. She was going to be Lady Ann again! She had to be!

She passed into view of the station and let out a great gasp of relief that pulled her to another stop when she saw the coach still parked at the front of the building. And there was no train visible! She still had plenty of time to get to Mavis before she could get away.

But even as she had the thought she heard the whistle and the rumble of the wheels on the tracks and turned her head to see the train coasting in toward the station, steam pouring up from its funnel.

“Oh Gawd, no,” she muttered, but even seeing it couldn’t put movement back into her limbs. On the contrary, it stripped the energy from her along with all hope. She was never going to be able to stop them in time. Her endeavour was doomed to failure.

But she narrowed her eyes and wrinkled her nose in anger. “No.” She was going to stop that ruddy slag or she was a monkey’s uncle and no mistake.

She hitched up the front of her skirts and ran as fast as she could toward the station, just as the train pulled in to a stop with a squeal of brakes.

The coachman was just getting ready to set off. Ann ignored him, circling past to the front door of the station building. She hurried inside, past the ticket office and toward the platform.

Just before she could burst out into the sunlight, the stationmaster stepped into the doorframe, blocking the way. “Let’s see yer ticket young missy. What’s yer hurry?”

“I just have to get onto the platform for a minute to speak to someone,” she said. “I’ll only be a moment.” But despite the relatively cultured tones coming from her throat, the stationmaster didn’t step back or smile.

“Yer’ll need a ticket to proceed,” he said.

“I don’t have a ticket,” said Ann, feeling exasperated. She peered past him and caught sight of Ann and Richard at the train-side. Richard opened the door.  “Please.” I can see my... my friends right there. Just let me past an I’ll be right back.”

“Not without a ticket luv.”

“Please! They’re right there!”

The stationmaster folded his arms. “Ticket office’s right there.” He gestured with a tilt of his head.

“Alright, fine!” Ann broke off and went across to it. “Please yer ruddy self.” She caught the ticket seller’s eye and said, “Gimme a platform ticket willya.” She begrudgingly went through the pockets of her skirt, carefully, then increasingly urgently; finally frantically. “Chuffin eck,” she said. “I ain’t got no money. Can’t ye just do me a favour an give me a ticket anyway? I’ll pay you back right away, I promise.”

The ticket seller gave her a curt smile. “I’m afraid not. We don’t sell tickets on credit.”

“Oh Gawd,” said Ann, turning back to the stationmaster who continued to regard her suspiciously. He put his hands on his hips and broadened his stance in the doorway, completely blocking any means of getting through. “Please,” Ann begged. “I only wanna go out there for a minute.”

“I’m afraid not luv. Not a chance.”

The whistle blew. All along the train doors were slamming shut.

Ann paled.

Then she sprinted out the front of the building and ran round to the fence at its side. She had a clear view of the train and there in the window of the first class carriage was Mavis, in her body, and Richard, sitting there peacefully, oblivious to her predicament.

“Hey!” She yelled, waving her arms. “Hey! Wait! I need to talk to you!”

There was no response from either of them so she waved her arms more frenetically, jumping up and down. “Ey! You! Look over ere! Mavis! Stop for chuff’s sake! Talk to me! Please!”

In the window, Mavis turned her head lazily and saw Ann’s frenzied attempts to gain her attention. For a moment, Ann felt relief, then Mavis turned her smile of contentment into a sneer of ridicule.

The two women stared at one another, then the train jerked as it started to move and Mavis’s mocking smile grew wider.

“Stop!” cried Ann, her voice becoming an uncouth bellow, riddled with crass Yorkshire inflection. “Get yer skinny ruddy hide out’ve there now ye bloody skank or I’ll scratch yer eyes out!”

The train started to move off, steam streaming down the sides. In the carriage, Mavis went on looking at Ann, Richard oblivious opposite her.

“Get back ere! That’s my body ye’ve got there!” shouted Ann. “That’s my flippin’ body! It’s mine and I wan’ it back!”

But the train didn’t slow and it didn’t stop and in seconds Mavis was carried far away, leaving Ann hoarse and screaming as the horror and finality of her predicament closed tightly about her.