|2005-08-28 00:59:00||aggravated||React 2 Rhythm. Intoxication-DJ Heaven-Frisky? – Girls With Decks!|
I begin to understand what losing a loved one is really like. Here’s the
Not long after my final train departed Birmingham for Worcester, I realised I’d left Marianne the Cuddly Pig on the train that took me from Edinburgh to Birmingham. It had been over an hour since that train had terminated at Birmingham – surely by now the train would have been cleaned and Birmingham’s lost property office would have her. Well, no way to find out because they’d closed for the weekend.
I ended up phoning the British Transport Police office at Birmingham. The officer I spoke to took my loss seriously, gave it an incident number and gave Virgin Trains’ numbers to try. However, none of the possibilities could be contacted until Monday morning. I cried on the way from Worcester’s station and could hardly bring keep the bitterness from my voice all this week.
Monday morning brought no joy. Birmingham’s lost property office didn’t have her and couldn’t advise anywhere else to try. I was disconsolate for the rest of the week and getting to sleep was unusually hard. I normally sleep holding Marianne. Without my comforter, with this loss and many other changes churning around my head, in a strange bed … thank goodness for Larry Niven.
Why all the fuss over a cuddly toy? Well, Marianne is more than a toy. She’s a comforter, a conversation piece, a drinking companion and an almost constant companion over 14 years. She is a relic of times when I respected who I was, when I was even occasionally optimistic, from before several failed relationships and a breakdown. There are many, many other good things in my life but all of them require maintenance. Not so with Marianne: she was just there. She asked for nothing and gave me no grief at all.
What’s worse is that the only person I could blame was me. I chose to take her with me, I chose to put her on the overhead luggage-rack, I forgot to check that I had all my luggage when I got off the Birmingham train, I chose, albeit unwittingly, to become dependent upon her. No doubt I can adjust but I don’t want to.
And on the 14th day she rose again
I got back to Edinburgh around noon on Friday, less than happy with the world. Not even seeing an old friend for the first time in ages or a successful shopping session could shake off my foul mood. I found the Virgin office and demanded they look up the train that had taken me to Birmingham would have gone afterwards. After an amount of persuasion and pleading, they found it would have next gone to the Central Rivers depot. Central Rivers staff had found her and will send her to Birmingham’s lost property office by Wednesday. My parents will collect her from there and by Friday Marianne and I should be reunited.