PANDORA'S BOX

I'm a great admirer of the work of English film director, the late David Lean, whose cinematic triumphs ranged from the wonderful low-budget classic, Hobson's Choice, to epics such as Doctor Zhivago and Lawrence of Arabia, the latter of which launched actor Peter O'Toole to stardom.  In 1945 Lean directed a film version of a Noel Coward play, Still Life, a poignant love story about a couple who meet in a railway station: the sort of film that my mother's generation would have referred to as 'a weepie'. The film was entitled Brief Encounter.
My story's title is obviously a play on the film's name and is also about an encounter in a railway station but there the similarity ends, except, as a few film buffs may note, both my protagonist and the male lead in David Lean's film are named Harvey.
Briefcase Encounter was recently placed third in the Guernsey Writers Flash Fiction competition.  

 

BRIEFCASE ENCOUNTER

Eurostar disgorged its passengers like a pod expelling seeds.
Harvey, clutching his briefcase, allowed himself to be carried forward slowly, legs still stiff from the journey.
Security checks were in progress but Harvey moved forward confidently, certain his bland exterior would ensure cursory attention.
Waved through, he waited by the railing close to Betjeman’s statue, briefcase resting at his feet.
He saw the woman approach; her stride confident. She gave him a quick, cold smile and set down her briefcase, departing with his. Harvey picked up her case, identical to his own, and hurried to board the returning Eurostar to Paris.
He wanted to be far away from London when Pandora released the deadly spores in Oxford Street.
Safely aboard the speeding train, Harvey cradled the briefcase, itching to handle the stacks of hundred-euro notes he knew lay inside. He thought of Pandora preparing to text him with the combination to open the case: his portal to a new life.
Of the devastation awaiting London’s population, he thought very little. After all, who said life was fair?
Mid-way through the Tunnel, Harvey was on his third cognac when the text came through. He fumbled with the lock; suddenly remembered Pandora’s icy smile, and felt terror engulf him as he opened the case.