Cathy stirs her coffee and watches the trains come and go on the digital monoliths hanging from the ceiling. Edinburgh is next to leave. She’s never been there. She tries to picture herself stepping off the train at the station, ready to start anew. Only she doesn’t know anything of the city. She can see herself stood on the platform, suitcase in hand, smiling at possibilities. But from there she doesn’t know where she could go. The image fades, leaving only the lightly wrinkled hand circling the steaming foam cup.