The Bus Queue

A woman finds herself in a hot, sweaty bus station.

 

 

THE BUS QUEUE

 

Basil was always remonstrating Charlotte about her tardiness. Now, today of all days, she was caught up in an interminable bus queue at the bus station. On a normal day there would be far fewer people at the bus station, but today was special. Everyone had been warned, weeks ago, that the Queen was going to open a new motorway and as there would be a cavalcade of cars in front of her car and behind, it was considered advisable for the locals to use the buses or the trains where possible, hence the tiny bus station was unable to cope with numbers much greater than its usual capacity. There was a sea of heads and faces and no sight of a much desired bus. Charlotte was unable to see as far as the exit from the waiting room to the depot yard, and behind her was an even sorrier situation with much more of what was in front. The queue was getting longer and longer. The day was hot and now, with the noises of small children crying and mothers getting frantic with their offspring, the atmosphere was overcharged with emotion. A few uniformed personnel could be seen trying to keep the mass under control. Rumours were rife that there were buses short, due to some mechanics and drivers being away on holiday, when in fact the opposite was true, extra buses had been supplied to make sure that all the villages in all directions would have a good service. Meanwhile, the would-be passengers on public transport were becoming restless. Those who had bottles of water were put in the position of having to partake of warm water and fruit juice. The ready made sandwiches were also devoured with not too much relish as their owners were getting fed up and hungry and thirsty. Mobile phones were in continuous use, and phones ringing as anxious friends and relatives were ringing up, trying to find out where everyone was. Time was passing and the queue moved so slowly as not to be perceived - in fact it just inched along. There was tape with the immortal words printed on it ‘NO PASSING BEYOND THIS POINT’. That said everything. No one was going anywhere till the bus authorities gave permission. Many people were moaning and complaining that if only they had known they would have taken a taxi, but others who had tried to do so explained that taxis were also hard to come by as those who were quicker to react had caught the only ones available. The problem was that the bus station served a rural area and buses and taxis were few and far between, the railway station had disappeared years before, when an ardent Dr Beeching, the then Minister of Transport, had done away with the majority of the railway lines to the villages because they were unprofitable.

Charlotte’s feet were killing her. She was no longer young and slim, so any extra time on her feet, and they hurt. She managed to lean against the wall, making sure beforehand that it wasn’t dirty. The vast majority of those waiting were sitting on rucksacks, or leaning against the walls. The sound of a bus arriving and the queue moving up nearer to the exit provided a sense of the long wait getting shorter. Charlotte looked around her and saw that everyone had the same shiny, sweaty faces and a resigned air to match. She didn’t dare take out her makeup mirror to have a look at her face for fear of what she would see. Fortunately, she had her bus pass on her and didn’t need to open her purse for the fare. There was still a little water left in the bottle she had bought. Her shopping bags were not too heavy in normal circumstances, but with the wait, the heat, and her painful feet, to Charlotte they felt as if everything had assumed a different aspect.

A man wearing a hat was passing down the queue, taking money. He was just with the passenger in front of Charlotte and she heard him say, “Tickets, anyone with bus passes?” Charlotte offered him her bus pass, the man examined it and moved on to the next future bus passenger. He moved along the queue with a desolate air about his person, as if he were the last worker at the bus station and all the responsibility was on his shoulders.

The door to the yard opened and those at the head of the queue moved out towards the waiting bus. There wouldn’t be another for a while as the local buses stopped at every village on the route making a journey of fifteen minutes by car, an hour by bus in one direction, then another would return. The shops in the bus station were all closed and there was nothing to do except wait. Some had headphones and were listening to music, there were a few reading kindles. These, it seems, were wrapped up in another world, unaware of the sheer boredom others without such apparatus were going through. Those near Charlotte were calculating how many people would be able to get on the next bus. From what she could hear, Charlotte reckoned that she would be on her way home sooner rather than later. Charlotte’s feet were burning, the airless atmosphere was an invitation for anyone to faint. The lack of seats added to the entire discomfort. People said that there were no seats so as to prevent tramps sleeping on them. Another bus entered the bus station but unfortunately for Charlotte the last one allowed on board was just in front of her. The bus company was breaking the rules by letting on more people than was allowed, due to the chronic crowding in the station and the time of day. Then the most beautiful sight ever imagined arrived and the passengers surged forward to climb aboard. A man tried to push in front of Charlotte and she stamped on his feet with her painful ones, getting a savage pleasure out of it. She got on the bus and sat down near the door. More passengers got on and the bus set off for its travel through the villages delivering its passengers, practically to their front doors in some cases.

Charlotte started to doze and was afraid she would fall asleep. There wasn’t any talking on board, everyone was too tired and worn out to chatter. As the bus stopped at the villages some asked whether they could be taken nearer to their houses, the driver was only too happy to comply.

 

Basil had been alone at home all day, more or less, and when he had finished tidying up inside the house, he went outside to do some gardening. All the time he was cursing his wife’s lateness and lack of punctuality, and got the garden looking nice and tidy and the lawn newly mowed. He chatted for half an hour with his neighbour and then returned indoors. How could she take so long? Basil decided to have a word with Charlotte on her return. He prepared several different dishes and laid the table. Then he went upstairs, showered and dressed. Making himself look good was one of Basil’s vanities and he welcomed the attention it caused. Basil was one of nature’s flirts and he wallowed in it.

 

At seven, Charlotte opened her front door, went inside and found Basil looking at his laptop. She was absolutely furious and exhausted. Basil heard the door open, but before he could say anything Charlotte told him about the disaster at the bus station. “There were no extra buses and more people than you can imagine. I was stuck in the longest queue I’ve ever seen. For two hours! It was hot and airless and my feet were killing me, you know I can’t stand for very long.”

“I find it very difficult to sympathise with you, Charlotte. It looks as if, as usual, you left things to the last minute.”

Charlotte said nothing to her self-righteous husband and, dumping the bags on the floor, started climbing the stairs, “I’m having a shower and going to bed. I’ve had enough for one day.”

Basil ran out to the bottom of the stairs, and said, “You can’t do that, we’ve got visitors.”

Charlotte looked down at him and replied, “It’s because of said visitors that I went into town to buy presents for them, following your instructions. You’ll find them in the shopping bags. You’re always complaining about my being unpunctual. This time my lateness is the Queen’s fault for opening a new motorway today and the authorities asking the general public not to use their cars in that area. Didn’t you know?”

 

Basil’s mouth was wide open. He had completely forgotten about the Queen’s visit to the area.  Oooh! So that’s why the car’s been in the garage all day! Basil thought to himself.