The station clock
1The station clock had been four minutes fast for as long as anyone could remember. Passengers who knew the town simply took the four minutes off in their heads, the way you step over a loose paving stone without looking down.
2Ada had worked in the ticket office for a month when the engineers came to fix it. They arrived with a ladder, a toolbox and a printed instruction sheet, and by lunchtime the clock agreed exactly with the radio.
3That evening the 6.40 left without Mr Lyle. He stood on the platform with his newspaper folded under his arm, watching the red lights shrink. "Eleven years," he said, to nobody in particular, "and I have never once needed to run."
4Ada wrote a notice in her neatest capitals: THE CLOCK IS NOW CORRECT. Then she paused, crossed out the full stop and added: PLEASE STOP TAKING FOUR MINUTES OFF. She pinned it beside the timetable, where Mr Lyle would see it in the morning.