From paddington

(after A. Christie)

Mrs. McGillicuddy was going along the platform, trying to catch up with the porter who was carrying her suitcase. Mrs. McGillicuddy was burdened with a large number of parcels; the result of a day’s Christmas shopping. Platform No 1 was rather crowded; people were rushing in several directions at once, to and from undergrounds, left-luggage offices, tea-rooms, enquiry offices, indicator boards, to the outside world.

Mrs. McGillicuddy and her parcels were buffeted to and fro, but she arrived at last at the entrance to Platform No 3 and deposited one parcel at her feet while she was looking her bag for the ticket that would enabled her to pass stern uniformed guardian at the gate.

At that moment, a loud voice burst into speech over her head. “The train standing at Platform 3” the voice told her, “is the 4.50 for Brackhampton, Milchester and Roxeter. Passengers for Brackhampton travel at the rear of the train. Passengers for Carvil change at Roxeter”. The voice shut itself off with a click and then reopened conversation by announcing the arrival at Platform No. 9 of the 4.00 from Birmingham.

Mrs. McGillicuddy found her ticket and presented it. The man clipped it, murmured: “On the right-rear portion.” Mrs. McGillicuddy found her porter outside the door of a third-class carriage. “Here you are, lady.” – “I’m traveling first-class, ” said Mrs. McGillicuddy. “You didn’t say so, ” grumbled the porter. He took the suitcase and marched with it to the adjoining coach. The 4.50 was almost empty, as the first-class passengers preferred either the faster morning express or the 6.40 with a dining car. Mrs. McGillicuddy handed the porter his tip, which he received with disappointment, considering it more suitable to third-class than to first-class travel. But Mrs. McGillicuddy, though prepared to spend money on comfortable travel after a night journey from the North and a day’s feverish shopping, was at no time an extravagant tipper.

She made herself comfortable on the plush cushions with a sigh and opened a magazine. Five minutes later, whistles blew, and the train started. Three minutes later she was asleep. She slept for forty minutes and awoke refreshed. It was quite dark now. “Serving last tea now, ” said an attendant, opening the corridor door. But Mrs. McGillicuddy had already had tea at a large department store. She looked up at the rack where her various parcels reposed, with a pleased expression. Her satisfied gaze returned to the window; a train traveling in the opposite direction rushed by with a screech, making the windows rattle. The train passed through a station. Then it began suddenly to slow down, probably in obedience to a signal. For some minutes it crawled along, stopped; and then began to move forward again, gathering speed. For a time two trains ran parallel, now one gaining a little, now the other. Mrs. McGillicuddy looked from her window through the windows of the parallel carriages. Most of the blinds were down, but occasionally the passengers of the carriages were visible. The other train was not very full and there were many empty coaches. Suddenly in one of the compartments of the passing train Mrs. McGillicuddy saw a man. His hands were round the throat of a woman who faced him; he was slowly, remorselessly strangling her.