Under the clock

<p>England 1908: Under the clock on a sleepy station platform nestled in rural Lincolnshire an unexpected romance blossoms. </p><p> </p><p>Maisie: Every Friday at precisely five to six a handsome young man arrives at the station. I know the time because I can see the clock. The train pulls in punctual as always and among the alighting passengers is an elderly gentleman. The young man greets him with a smile and a handshake then tucks his arm through the older man's and they leave the platform.</p><p>Every Friday.</p><p>Occasionally we exchange a glance or two and to be fair I suspect I notice him more than he notices me.</p><p> </p><p>Fred: I count the hours until Friday afternoon comes around. Not only because this marks the start of the weekend but also and more importantly I get to see the flower girl. I am clueless as to her name yet my heart begins to race the minute the station comes into view. I almost run up the steps onto the platform hoping for a glimpse of her bright smile.</p><p>Every Friday.</p><p>I doubt she ever notices me. I'm just a village lad one more faceless person in the throng.</p><p> </p><p>Then again you never know what might happen... in an innocuous corner of a quiet platform...</p><p>...under the clock </p>