My stomach knotted as i stepped off the train onto Petersfield's deserted platform. The wheels on my suitcase clunked on the concrete, echoing through the station as I dragged it behind me. Why was I doing this to myself? My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth as I attempted to swal-low. I was parched or stupidly nervous for no reason. Running my free palm over my jeans, I made my way to the kiosk for a bottle of water. That packet of Maltesers would do too. Share size? Pfft, they wouldn't last a minute once I opened them. I checked my phone for any missed calls and sat on a bench facing the sparse carpark, keeping my eyes peeled for a red Ford KA. The bag of chocolates rustled as I ripped it open and tucked in. Each piece melted on my tongue as I savoured my bites. The longer I sat there, the longer I had time to think.