Tonight though, Kay was finding it difficult to concentrate on the stories that were being covered. It was the usual news of British troop casualties in Iraq, political intrigue at Westminster, and Champions League football results. These sounds came out of the TV set, but the words scarcely registered with Kay.
For the last three or four hours she had grown increasingly annoyed. Where the hell was Lee? She kept asking herself the question, over and over. Nick had sent her a succession of text messages from Liverpool Street, explaining firstly that there were delays on lots of the services because of signal problems, then that Lee was on the train, another five minutes later to say that the train was still in the station, and finally that it had left about 15 minutes later than scheduled.
