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open to Gaiah.
    “ Oh, I'm fine thank
you.”
    “ Nonsense, we've loads.
Nothing like a good chew to help pass the time, I always
say.”
    Gaiah could see there was no possibility of
saying no to this woman, so she reached across and took a squidgy
fistful. She smiled at the two children as she chewed a rubbery
sweet. This was enough encouragement; they immediately wriggled out
of their seats and brought their new books to show her. “Look what
we got, they’re brill.”
    “ We got two, but they’re
different, see?”
    Their mother leant across the aisle,
introduced herself as Mrs. McCrea and interrupted them frequently
to quiz Gaiah on her plans, her family, and her destination.
    Eventually the children
became sleepy, and moved back to their own seats, where they curled
up against their mother. Gaiah turned and stared out the
window. That spin to the station with Fred
was really cool. I totally chatted like a normal person, didn’t
worry about my hair and didn’t suggest at him, even by accident.
Jeez, I should have left London ages ago.
    But those children had reminded her of
herself; sunny, energetic, full of curiosity and fun. That had been
a different world. The thought made her sad. Gaiah gnawed at her
nails. She pulled at the torn skin down the sides of her thumbnail.
She stared vacantly out the window. She had never really understood
what happened or why. She'd begun to feel everything about her was
just ‘too much’. Too cheerful, too clever, too happy, too
enthusiastic. Why had things changed? She knew her 'suggesting'
ability had something to do with it. Even sitting here on the
train, she squirmed with embarrassment at the memory of trying to
suggest at some girls that they wanted to be her friends. But the
resulting uncomfortable and bewildered conversations made her vow
never to try anything like that again.
    So she changed, fought
against her nature, which made her surly and unhappy; she hunched
her shoulders to hide her height as she grew taller than her
classmates, and she folded her arms and wore baggy jumpers to hide
her shape when at twelve, she seemed to turn into a woman,
overnight. Then the hair started. Damn! I
do not want to think about it. She turned
her attention to the landscape, trying to see through the dark, but
the windows only reflected her tired face and her waist length mane
of hair. Gaiah sighed and leant her head against the cold glass and
started to doze.
     
    ***
     
    An hour later, on the road above the
embankment next to the train track, John Baird, ‘Yogi’ to his
friends, a 30-year-old lorry driver was doing his last fruit and
veg delivery of the day. He was headed to Dalkeith, only a few
miles further on. He sang loudly, belting out the lyrics to his
favorite song, drowning out the voice of Peter Cunnah. “THINGS CAN
ONLY GET BET...” he never finished.
    His face became puce and veins stood out
down his neck, as he struggled to control his hands. His grip on
the steering wheel became vice-like and while he screamed in
disbelief, the van swerved off the road and careered down into the
path of the train. The crash was sudden and violent. The train hit
the van head on and pushed it half a mile down the track, before
its locked brakes finally screeched the train to a stop. The
wreckage of the van was spread along and around the tracks.
    Gaiah’s head cracked hard against the
window. It took several shocked seconds to sort out the ringing in
her ears from the screaming of the passengers. She couldn't tell
what was inside or outside her head. Then two important things
became clear. She wasn't hurt and there was no smell of fire. The
lights in the carriage flickered but remained on.
    The children were crying. Gaiah pushed
herself out of her seat and hurried across. “Are you okay?”
    They both had their arms wrapped around
their mother. Their father had already released the security bar on
the emergency door, and was pushing it outwards. Mrs. McCrea
included Gaiah in her