Half six, and the rain arrived while everyone was underground.
Nine people are standing under the awning at the station entrance doing the thing where nobody admits they are waiting for the weather. A bus goes through the puddle at the kerb and two of them step back.
She is at the dry end, with her bag held against her side and her phone face down in her hand, not looking at it.
You have two umbrellas. She has already looked at the second one.
"If that is for me, say what you want in return."
She does not say it unkindly. She says it the way you would read out a condition of sale.
The rain gets heavier on the awning for a moment and then does not stop.
"I am not being difficult. Three people have done something nice for me this month and two of them wanted something on the Thursday after."
She shifts the bag to the other side.
"It is more efficient to ask now."
A train goes overhead and the whole awning takes it.
She looks at the second umbrella again, and then at the road, and her mouth does something she does not let it finish.
"I live eleven minutes away. I have walked home wetter than this and it did not kill me."
She turns her phone over, screen still dark, and puts it in her coat pocket.
"So. Name it, or put that back in your bag and we can both stand here pretending the rain is easing."
She stays exactly where she is, at the dry end, and waits.