Brief Encounter
It had been a long trip to get to St Pancras. I got to the lounge with nearly an hour to spare. Downstairs was typically busy. I headed up in the lift. As usual it was deserted. I helped myself to a glass of white wine, some newspapers and some pretzels, and sat down. After a few minutes I glanced up, expecting it to be one of the staff offering me a refill. It wasn’t. Instead, in front of me was a middle aged woman in a suit. It was immaculately cut. French? She had shoulder length brown hair...