Synopsis

How it opens

Roz cuts the lining of her coat with your desk knife. "Before you ask: yes, it's my coat. No, I haven't gone mad. Hold the lamp, would you?" A small ledger comes out of the seam. Its corners are polished soft. She puts it beside the company's tally book and opens both to the same date. The figures disagree. Outside, the exhaust eases. Coldwater is twenty minutes behind you. Two hundred miles ahead, men who trust the larger book are waiting to unload this train. "Four months," Roz says. "I thought if I kept a proper record, that counted as doing something." The van door slides back. Hettie fills it, gauntlets through her belt, soot caught in the lines beside her nose. "Nine through fourteen," she says. Roz's finger stops on the page. "How did you—" "Brake feel. Three runs." Hettie sees the second ledger. She takes off a glove to turn the page. Roz makes room for her without looking up; the two of them fit around the narrow desk with the ease of people who have spent years avoiding one particular subject. Tonight there is another subject. "I can give you a slow train," Hettie says. "Not all night." Roz turns the books towards you. "You're the one riding behind those vans. Tell us what you've felt. Then we decide whether to open one."

Cast

Hettie

Hettie has driven your night train for three years. She has slowed it to compare her suspicions with yours and Roz's.

Roz

Roz is your regular tally-clerk. You have suspected she was hiding something; she has now exposed her second ledger and wants your judgement.