The dark of night crept in slowly, despite the train's disconcerting whir as it hurtled through the English countryside. Leticia and Wesley were whizzing somewhere between Crewe and Manchester, at least, that was the last stop Wesley remembers them pulling away from. Neither of them really grasped the notion that they had to change at Preston until the robotic Virgin Trains tannoy voice bellowed the call that the train would soon be approaching Preston. Just when they were officially sanctioned 'out of the woods' and could relax they were in upheaval again, jostling and grabbing frantically to leave this doomed train and board another, set for Manchester. As they left the train, due for London, an even more distant destination but one not pertinent to this voyage, Wesley's eyes hovered around the looming Preston train station lights, a daunting howl of trains, weaving in and out of another as they arrive and depart, and the familiar monotone, robotic tannoys directing commuters on their chosen path. It had nothing on the spectral glass kingdom of Glasgow Central, but it had a greyed out, Northern charm that despite its blandness, had a quaint kick for Wesley. Perhaps he had been watching too much Coronation Street as of late.
Leticia's initial buzz had simmered to a focused pensive growl as she plodded through the station, leading the way in a sense as she directed herself and Wesley to Platform 6, for the Manchester Piccadilly train. It had not been officially stated that Leticia was taking charge of this trip, but it had somewhat become the accepted status quo, as Leticia had hatched the frankly reckless plan in the first place. What if their house got trashed? What about their innocent, ignorant flatmate Harry, of whom they had completely disregarded in all the chaos. Back in Carlisle it dawned on Wesley that Harry would quickly wonder where they've gone and why their things are gone, then to be greeted at the door by the cartoonishly intimidating and daunting Sprinkle and two of his mates, and be asking for them, with callous intent. Harry, poor Harry, pondered Wesley. He didn't even take drugs and he would likely have a panic attack at the mere mention of all this being possible, which played a large part in why Leticia and Wesley were hell-bound to phone him to fill him in on this. As neither could bring themselves to do it by Penrith, they anxiously awaited a phonecall from his number, staring blankly into their mobile phone screens.
The mood had turned somewhat serious, and somewhat sour as trajectory became reality, something terrible was going to happen to Harry, and the house if he just happened to be in when Sprinkle came knocking. Ignorant of who each other were, the initial hilarity would dissipate as Sprinkle would demand information about the errant Leticia and Wesley. An ignorant Harry would be lost for an answer, genuinely denied as such which in turn would not go down well with Sprinkle, who would reasonably yet incorrectly assume that it was all lies to cover for them.
It was this though that finally compelled a frantic Wesley to make that call. But he wouldn't to Harry himself.
N: "Wesley."
W: "Hi Nancy. I need to ask a peculiar yet essential favour of you. Are you with Harry just now or know where he is?"
N: "Oh right. Well I saw Harry today with that girl he's seeing going into the subway, they must have been heading into town."
W: "Cool, what time would this have been about?"
N: "Errr, about half 4 I guess, would've been as I was coming back from work so yeah about half 4, 5 o clock. Why?"
W: "No reason. Look, errr... Me and Leticia are going to see her sister for a few days, she's taken a bad turn and Leticia doesn't think she's doing so well, and she's a bit lonely, so we've decided to go keep her company.
N: "Oh right that's nice... Doesn't Leticia's sister live in England or something?"
W: "Well yeah, we're in Preston right now actually, about to head on a train to Manchester."
N: "Fucking hell when did you two decide this? And why wasn't anyone invited?"
W: "It was a pretty on the spot decision. I'll need to explain it later. Right this is the favour part."
N: "Here it comes. Is it to tell Harry that you've fucked off and left him in the house to deal with things while you two live it up?"
W: "Yes. That and, not to go back to the house tonight. At least not until later. Try and get him out or see where he is with that date and keep him away from the flat for a bit. It's for his own good. I'll explain tomorrow. It's nothing serious."
N: "What the fuck? Why does he have to stay away from the house? Has something happened? What the fuck's going on? Let me speak to Leticia."
W: "Nanc... right now isn't the best time. All I can say for now is, Leticia and I...need to stay away from Glasgow for a wee while. And so does Harry from that flat, at least for tonight."
N: "Wesley, tell me what the fuck yous two have done now. This isn't funny. Where's Leticia? I'm phoning her."
The call bleeped, and Nancy disconnected. Wesley appeared crestfallen. Leticia stared at him and waited for her phone to ring. She held it up, as a picture of her and Nancy, eating ice cream (one of those personalised pictures when a friend calls function) and tapped the disconnect button.
"I can't face her right now. She's probably already worked out what's happened. At least she'll be smart enough to get Harry away from the flat." Leticia declared.
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On the train bound for Manchester, Leticia and Wesley had decided to turn off their phones, at least until they had to give Leticia's unstable sister a call to confirm we were nearly at Piccadilly, and she would greet them from the station, and no doubt be filled in on the nonsense that her younger sibling had gotten herself into. Wesley witnessed Leticia send a lengthy, carefully plotted text as they got on the train, no doubt to Nancy, but he didn't want to heighten the tension by pestering her as to what the text said. He could already surmise it contained mixed messages of placation as to their situation, and brief explanation of the dangerous web they had weaved. Although being utterly disapproving and appalled at their ridiculous actions, Nancy could be trusted to go into Mother Hen mode and provide crucial damage control, especially for the blissfully ignorant Harry, who, upon having to hear about their tangle second hand from his mutual friend Nancy, would surely be so infuriated and betrayed that they would probably not see him again after they would inevitably return. Wesley predicted that the paranoid android's first reaction would be to stamp and moan and curse Leticia and his names into the grounds of hell. Next he would call his boisterous, reactionary father who would whoosh down with a removal van from Aberfoyle and collect his precious son and his things and take him away from the hellish drug den flat by tomorrow afternoon. Said outraged father would then hound Wesley and Leticia's mobiles with calls, baying for blood, and with good reason.
It had never been plain sailing in Leticia, Wesley and Harry's living situation, even from day one. Since the relatively sheltered Harry had clung to the more duplicitous and streetwise Leticia from the start of university, perhaps admiring her sense of purpose and achievability of her goals, however dubious they were. Despite their best behaviour and parent pleasing charms, Wesley, Leticia, Nancy and Siobhan had never managed to really present themselves well to Harry painfully traditional and stereotypical father. Poor performances at Harry's "dignified" 21st birthday celebration had cemented this notion, and this latest life-threatening drama would seal the cement with even more cement, while gaining some points for being so comically outrageous and dangerous. Some unpaid rent is one thing, drug dealers destroying your house over an errantly gained drug debt is another. In some form Wesley and Leticia might make great case studies for a typical moralistic and outraged Daily Mail article on the wayward and degenerate youth of today. The stuff of legend, perhaps.
Leticia leant her head against the window and peered out into the dark English countryside, anxiously awaiting the next leg of their adventure, which was about to commence. Wesley tapped his rucksack, still saying little and in a way, the silence at this point felt appropriate as the calm before the storm
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