Waiting for the train

Its late coming in. There's a woman with black hair and huge false eyelashes sitting against the ledge where a screen is kept held in place with a chain padlocked with a combination lock. Her partner is hunched over the padlock trying to get it to open. He steps over to the tracks to spit. He's short, ginger, unattractive in a white boxer sort of way - all has-been-smashed-up face. He is wearing a tracksuit and keeps fiddling with his package - either down the elastic or blatantly - uncomfortable underpants. She stands up - she's shorter than him but beautiful in a TOWIE sort of way, perma tan, pale lipstick, dark sultry eyes. She's wearing a wrap coat of velvet with a real fur collar. They talk to each other without seeing anybody else around them. He talks on the phone to someone telling them they can't take this other person to his dads place no way. He's sort of bouncing around back and forth across the platform. He ends up back beside his woman he shadow boxes a bit and then pretend-spars against her held-out hands. He suddenly sees something in her face and looks deeply at it, wipes something off her. She picks something off his lip. He puts his arm around her shoulder and pulls her to him, her arm wraps round his waist and they wander off up the platform as the train finally arrives.