Seconds later and we might not have met

It was October 1998, day seven of a new job in London, my home city, but one I had not lived in for thirteen years since I had left home. I was travelling to work by tube and needed to change from the Jubilee line to the Central line at Bond Street. It was rush hour and there was a long queue at the bottom of the only escalator that was in use. As I stood waiting, I recognised a familiar looking figure from behind, standing two people in front of me. It was an old school friend I had not seen or heard from in a decade, but someone to whom I had always been attracted. I called out his name. He turned, saying hello and then declared how strange it was, but that he had just been thinking of me! He didn't normally travel to work on the Central line, but had recently changed jobs. We were both single and started dating. Almost two years later our first of three children was born. It's strange to think that had either of us set out that day seconds later or got on a different carriage of the tube, we might never have married each other or had our children.