11:15 Oxford Road

By Kenn Taylor

Location: Oxford Road station

The cracklin’ speakers make it sound strangled, distant, but it’s still unmistakeably a recordin’ of a posh girl who pronounces everythin’ just so:

‘The next train to arrive at platform 2 is the 11:15 service to Liverpool Lime Street, calling at:
Deansgate
Trafford
Irlam
Birchwood
Padgate
Warrington Central
Hunts Cross
Liverpool South Parkway
Edge Hill
And Liverpool Lime Street’

Bet she’s a right filthy bitch that one.

I’m just glad it’s fucking coming though. Can feel the tiredness deep in me bones. Getting this job over and getting home is all I can think of. It’s been a right slog this one, and now this train.

After we did the switch, I legged it cross town to catch the ten o’clock from Piccadilly, only to watch it saunter away from the platform on me approach. Fuck. This meant another ride on the gauntlet: The Last Train From Manchester To Liverpool. Always from Oxford Road, always 11:15pm. It’s an experience whatever day of the week, but a Saturday night was going to be hellish.

I wandered back across the city as it began to really light up for the weekend. The grand ald cotton buildings of Mancland, now neoned-up pleasure palaces, much like the old dock warehouses back in the ‘pool. We’ve got more in common than we’d sometimes like te think, ye know.

Least Oxford Road had some decent pubs to kill the time in like. But it’s ard not to feel shifty carrying a large packet and drinking alone at this time a night. I ended up skulkin’ in the corner of The Salisbury with a Guinness, watchin’ the clock.

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