Toby the barista is sure he keeps hearing the graceful melody of a harp from the arches near Platform 5, but every time he goes to investigate he finds only a scattering of oak leaves.

« The train now arriving at Platform 7 is the 1049 service to: Other. Please mind the gap. »

A cloaked traveller with a long white beard wanders among the platforms.

Waiting on a platform bench, Maggie Birch holds her handbag tight: in part to keep it safe from strangers, and in part to keep the strangers safe from that which she keeps within.

No matter what code is selected with the keypad, the vending machine on Platform 6 dispenses only ink-bottles.

Behind the farthest column between Platforms 4 and 5, in the very depths of the bins, something is starting to move.

Every Wednesday morning, during her inspection of the ladies’ toilets, cleaner Sandra finds a single rose petal in the corner of the third cubicle.

Katie Wendle, working in the station café, begins to wonder who – or what – has been taking so many sachets of brown sugar.

One day, for a fleeting moment, the trains are not quite trains.

A swallow dives low under the footbridge and snatches something from the air over the tracks. Mum says the thing it caught must have been some sort of insect, but young Ben is certain that the tiny winged creature had a face.

Paul the cleaner, inspecting the gents’ toilets by Platform 3, comes across yet another patch of golden dandelions poking up among the broken tiles.

The cries of a herring gull perched on the footbridge echo out over Platform 2, where Mrs Rosemary Stonethwaite finally remembers, after seventy-odd years, the name of that cottage by the sea.

On a sunny Platform 1, beneath a broad sign reading MEDDLEGARTH, something rustles in the flower baskets.