The long wait

They’ll be coming up the escalator soon. Her only daughter with her much-loved grandson. If they’ve managed to catch a good connecting train at the airport, they should be here just after 3 pm. By 4 pm at the latest, she’s calculated. Or perhaps a little later, if they’ve been held up at customs. She’s sure she’ll spot them soon and wave to them joyfully. It can’t be long now. She’s been standing here by the escalator since 1 pm, just in case they’ve caught an earlier train. Under no circumstances does she want to miss these two people she loves more than anything, or keep them waiting. Every time new figures approach the escalator, she gets quite excited. A little anxious, too. But she’s absolutely certain that the two of them must be coming up here. Or has she perhaps got the date wrong? No, that can’t be. But if they don’t turn up, she’ll check again later at home. That’s where she’s written it down, somewhere – their exact arrival time. And if she can’t find her note again, she’ll just come back tomorrow. And carry on looking at home later. Just like she has for the last four years. No, she certainly won’t miss them.