A London thriller · Parkland Walk, N8
Nothing has stopped at Crouch End since 1954
Someone is still waiting
Kate Bellamy rides home before dawn. Twelve hours on the wards at the Whittington, then down into the Parkland Walk — the old railway cutting sunk beneath north London, unlit end to end, no signal between the bridges. It is the best part of her day.
Until the morning there is a man on the platform at Crouch End.
He stands at the platform edge in a long dark coat, close enough to touch, facing away down the empty line. He does not turn. He does not speak. He is waiting for a train, at a station where nothing has stopped since 1954.
A rough sleeper, she tells herself. The cold. The nights. She isn't sleeping.
She is the only one who sees him, and the only one who thinks there is something wrong with the cutting. The police need more than one sighting before it's an offence. Her friends have begun to watch her rather carefully.
And her neighbour — kind, tireless, a man who knows every brick of the old line — won't hear of her riding it alone. He walks her as far as the bridge.
- Part one · The Down Line
- Two · Points Failure
- Three · As Far as the Bridge
- Four · The Up Line
The ride home
The location
It is the path at the end of your road
This is set on the Parkland Walk — the disused railway cutting that runs under Crouch End between Finsbury Park and Highgate. The bridges, the brick, the walk up to the road: all of it is where you walk the dog.
The line closed to passengers on 3 July 1954. The platforms are still there in the trees. The painted eye and the Spriggan are real, and you can walk to both of them this afternoon.