A Rule Worth Breaking

By Thursday afternoon, Noor had made a decision. She wasn’t supposed to talk to people who weren’t asking for anything, but at four o’clock, when the station was quiet, she left the counter with two cups of tea and sat down on bench three.

“I’m Noor,” she said. “I work in the office over there.” The woman in the green coat looked at the tea, and then at Noor. “I know,” she said. “I’ve been watching you for three days. You write very carefully.” Her voice was calm, but her fingers kept opening and closing on her knees.

“Are you waiting for somebody?” Noor asked. “I’m waiting for a train,” the woman said. “I’ve been waiting for it for thirty-two years.” She said that her name was Mrs Ellis, which Noor didn’t believe for a second. But Noor didn’t argue. She simply said, “Nobody at the counter will push you. But on Friday the suitcase has to go to auction. That’s the rule.”

The woman’s face changed. “Friday?” she repeated. “Mr Okafor never told me that.” “Maybe he didn’t want to frighten you,” Noor said. “He has kept it safe every time.” The woman turned to look at the office window, and for a moment Noor thought she was going to stand up. She didn’t.

Back at the counter, Noor found Mr Okafor doing something she had never seen him do: he was counting coins into an envelope. “The storage fee,” he said, without meeting her eyes. “There isn’t one in the rules, so I pay it myself. Every time.” For twenty-eight years he had paid it out of his wages, so that nobody could say the suitcase had been abandoned.

“You could lose your job for that,” Noor said. “Ms Hartley is inspecting the office tomorrow at nine,” he answered. “She checks everything. If she finds the envelope, she will find the safe, and if she finds the safe…” He didn’t finish the sentence. The two of them stood in silence, and the clock above the counter seemed to move faster than usual.