The 18.07 evening train from Charing Cross to Ramsgate shuddered to a violent, screeching halt.
Peter, who had been blissfully and soundly asleep, woke unceremoniously at the sudden incursion of metal on metal as the train wheels shrieked to a stop against the rails.
Disorientated for a moment, he opened his eyes properly, the dim light from the corridor alongside them illuminating a small patch of worn carpet on the far side of the compartment. He had been quite pleased to find that they had a compartment to themselves although neither had it in their plans to fall asleep on the journey.
As his eyes had slowly closed for the first time, hearing her breathing slowing beside him, he realised that the longest conversation they had had all day was at the altar. They had been far too busy with their guests and their first dance as man and wife - where it seemed highly inappropriate to do anything but smile and make sure they did not trip each other up - to have anything more than a few passing words. There was the conversation in the graveyard but it was hardly a happy subject.
As gently as he could, for fear of waking her up, he turned his cricked neck from side to side trying to sooth the stiff shoulder that was butted up against the dark wood of the seat. With one finger he pushed aside the mismatched green velvet curtain on the carriage window.
The night with a smattering of lights nestling in the black greeted him and, with a quick check of his watch, he concluded they were still a fair distance from their destination.
The head resting next to him stirred and shifted; an arm tightening its grip around his waist before settling again with a sigh. His hope that she would not wake up had failed miserably.
"Where are we?" came a sleepy voice from his shoulder.
"I've no idea," he replied. "It's just darkness out there". He paused, knowing the next sentence would amuse her, recalling their conversations about their honeymoon destination and her insistence that he could choose as long as it was the seaside.
"I can't see the sea yet though".
He heard a drowsy laugh before feeling her nestle up closer to him. He loved the seaside, but perhaps not quite as much as she did. Ramsgate had been a second home to him when he was younger and he knew it like the back of his hand, so he would enjoy showing his new wife around his childhood haunts.
"Go back to sleep", he said, kissing her forehead, before he adjusted the pale blue coat, part of ensemble that she had worn at the behest of her mother's dress designer in lieu of 'abominable white' (her words) that she felt that she was would have felt guilty wearing. The blue tweed had become her temporary blanket in the chill of the late autumn evening and she felt surprisingly comfortable. "I'll wake you up when we get there".
Breathing in her perfume the train lurched underneath them, starting its journey again. He watched the night for a moment as they slowly passed through Pluckley Station although his own eyes were starting to close again and his vain attempt at fighting sleep failed desperately.
The next thing he remembered was a guard shouting "Ramsgate! Ramsgate!" at the top of his voice and opening his eyes to find his wife kneeling up on the seat opposite, pulling their suitcases down from the overhead locker. As he stood up quietly and slid his arms around her waist, all he heard was a most unladylike yelp of surprise clearly thinking he was still asleep, just about avoiding the suitcase that almost slid from her hands.
"You do realise that you nearly killed your husband on your own honeymoon?" he teased.
"I have mitigating factors!" she said, her heart racing. "You frightened the very life out of me!"
"Oh I don't know about that", he continued, arms now firmly by his side. "I think I have sufficient evidence to ensure a charge sticks. I am starting to think I should have charged you first time around. You are clearly showing a tendency towards assaulting Police Officers!"
She went quiet for a moment and broke eye contact, putting the second suitcase on the seat.
"I still feel guilty about that you know".
"No need. The bruises faded eventually". He deliberately emphasised the last word, before he saw her face drop even further.
"I was joking. You know I barely had a mark on me", he said, taking hold of her hand, and dropping a kiss to her skin. "You made such an impact it was impossible for me to forget you", he said, smiling at her. "Come on, we have a hotel to get to!"
He picked up one suitcase and the other smaller one she carried as he pulled her by her free hand out of the compartment and off the train.