Rosemary reined in her horse and looked down the steep slope.

There it was at last - Lower Brackam railway station. It had taken her three attempts to find it. She had heard about it but no one in the village really seemed to want to explain how to get there, and it was so well hidden in that overgrown valley.

She squinted through the misty drizzle at the deserted buildings. Moss had turned the old red brick to a spectral green, which seemed to shimmer in the damp air. Silence seeped through the broken windows. It certainly wasn't very inviting.

She hesitated, wondering whether it was worth going any closer. The way down looked a bit precarious and yet - wasn't that someone there on the platform? Surely not! It was only 6 am. Rosemary strained her eyes. She couldn't see very well that far away. It looked like a woman waiting for a train, but that was ludicrous in a station that had been closed for years.

She decided to battle her way down through the bare, snatching branches of the wintry trees and foliage. It would be nice to meet one of the locals. Apart from shopkeepers, she and Jim hadn't really spoken to many people yet. It was time they involved themselves more in local affairs.

She guided Murphy down the brambly path urging him, every so often, to pick up his feet so that they didn't get tangled in the undergrowth.

'Good morning,' she called out cheerfully to the woman standing on the edge of the platform, at the same time thinking that Jim was right - she ought to get her eyesight checked again. She couldn't define the woman's features clearly, even at this close range. She heaved herself off Murphy's back and left him free to graze - he wouldn't run away - then approached the stranger.

'I hope you're not waiting for a train,' she said jovially, feeling that the woman looked as if she could do with someone to cheer her up. She had a pensive, sad air about her and she regarded Rosemary with a far away look in her eyes.

'I am,' she stated calmly.

Rosemary's jocularity subsided. There was something about this woman which commanded gravity. She thought she'd better handle it gently.

'Uum... I believe the station's been closed for many years, my dear. I don't think any trains will be coming through.'

The woman regarded her slowly, then turned her head to stare down the track. Rosemary involuntarily followed her gaze, then felt prickles of apprehension as she heard the distinct sound of an approaching train.

It couldn't be. Yet, there it was. Not really a train - more the shimmer of a train. It stopped right in front of them - there but not there!

Her skin tingled uneasily.

'You're a ghost, aren't you?' she whispered at last, hiding her mouth with her gloved hand as soon as the words had left it. Awe, fear and a strong sense of curiosity mingled strangely in a tight feeling in her chest. She stared at the woman who had glided towards the open door of the train, and forced herself to speak, 'What are you doing here?'

'I am waiting for someone,' replied the ghost and she looked sadly at Rosemary as the train pulled silently away.

Rosemary shivered and gaped at the rusty track in front of her. They had disappeared, ghost and train. She shook her head. It couldn't really have happened. Surely, if there'd been a ghost, Murphy would have shied and shown the usual signs of fear that horses do when something unfamiliar is around? But he was grazing contentedly, oblivious of any presences supernatural or otherwise.

She led him to a low wall and remounted, rather shakily. As he began to amble contentedly towards home, she examined her fear. For some reason she felt much calmer than she would have imagined herself feeling in that sort of a situation. The woman had exuded such an air of serenity that, after her initial shock had worn off, Rosemary began to feel quite serene herself.

She wouldn't tell Jim. He would say that it was all in her imagination and just went to show what could happen when a woman of her age went out riding, alone. He'd tried to forbid her but she needed some excitement in her retirement and anyway, as she had pointed out numerous times, Murphy was such a mild horse, as placid and imperturbable as she was herself. He was completely trustworthy. Hadn't that little incident just proved it?

No, better not to say anything. She would go there again though, to see if the ghost really existed or if it had been some kind of daydream.

Nothing could have kept her away and there was no fear in her heart as she approached the station again the next day.

There she was. Unsubstantial in the misty rain, she seemed to float towards the waiting train. Rosemary was desperate to find out more - who was she waiting for? Why was she there? Was she some local character who had died on that spot?

'Wait,' she beseeched.

'I cannot. The train leaves now.'

'But, what about the person you are waiting for?'

Maybe a lover who had rejected her?

'She will come.' She looked through Rosemary with a whimsical smile playing on her elusive features. Then she was gone.

Rosemary sighed. She? Not a lover then. Maybe it was a child? A sister? Her mother? She would have to ask around the village to get information about this ghost. She just had to know. Surely other people must have seen her too. There must be stories about her. Ah yes, her char-lady would know. Pity she wasn't due for another week but she would ask her, if she could get a moment alone with her!

For the next few days the weather was too bad for riding and Rosemary had to content herself with staying at home and catching up on her correspondence. She tidied out cupboards and generally spent the time putting her house in order - but she couldn't stop thinking about the ghost.

So, when the fourth day dawned cold but sunny, she set off eagerly at for the railway station. Murphy was glad to be out too, after three days of mooching in his stall. He pricked his ears up high and swished his tail showing an unusual friskiness.

They reached the hill, overlooking the station, just in time to hear the sound of the phantom train screeching down the track.

'Quick Murphy,' urged Rosemary, digging her heels into his flanks, 'I don't want to miss her this time. I must speak to her.' She squinted unsuccessfully against the early morning sun, trying to discern if the transparent lady was on the platform.

Murphy trotted down the hill. Suddenly, stones loosened by the recent rain, shifted under his feet and his front hoof caught in a muddle of brambles. The old horse crashed to his knees catapulting Rosemary over his head. She felt a sickening crack in her neck as she hit the ground.

But she was on her feet again, almost in an instant.

'Thank goodness for that,' she thought, examining herself from head to toe. 'I seem to be perfectly alright.'

She turned suddenly at a noise. The strange woman had approached and was standing beside her. Rosemary felt strangely calm after her shock. She turned to the woman while thinking that the fall must have done her good - her eyesight was better and the woman didn't seem nearly so vague. In fact she was quite solid, and she was smiling a warm, welcoming smile very different to the elusive one of the previous meetings.

The woman held out her hand towards Rosemary and said; 'Come.'

Rosemary looked towards the train. It, too, looked more solid and this time she could see the driver. He seemed sort of familiar. He was smiling and waving at her.

Suddenly her heart filled with an overwhelming sense of elation. She turned back to watch Murphy who was already trotting for home, none the worse for his fall, his tail high and his nostrils flaring in appreciation of his unexpected freedom.

Rosemary smiled warmly. She knew that he would be all right; that he would find his way home to his warm stall and his breakfast of oats and bran mash; and that he would alert Jim. She turned to the woman.

Happiness filled her being at the love that emanated from her beauty.

'Now I understand,' she said, as her joy lifted them both weightlessly onto the waiting train. 'You were waiting for me!'