After being stuck in a cramp, smoke-filled train for five hours, Forrest stepped onto the platform at Manchester London Road station, holding onto the bird cage tightly. The station was enormous, with long paths that seemed to go on forever. It took him several minutes to find the exit. Evening had already begun and it was quite windy. In his state of exhaustion, he could’ve easily been blown off his feet. The sun was starting to set behind the train station which Forrest took with delight. He could’ve watched the sun set forever, however he was on a mission.

“Take me to Margaret please,” whispered Forrest to the dove as he exited the station. Henry cooed in response as if he understood. He flew out of the cage as soon as the door was open and navigated around the unique red brick city. Forrest smiled as he watched Henry lead him. Adrenaline started to pump as he felt a sense of excitement and joy. He was soon to meet Margaret, however he did not have a plan. He kept an eye on Henry as he started to run. He huffed and puffed, nearly knocking people over as he neared Piccadilly Gardens. Shouts of “Oi” and “Watch where you’re going!” were directed at him, but he did not slow down. He was on the verge of throwing his backpack as it was slowing him down. The dove was far too quick for him which caused him to lose track of him.

How stupid am I in trusting a dove to lead me?

He sat beside an apartment building on the rubbish filled ground to collect his thoughts, however the only thought he had was that he lost his only chance of finding Margaret. The more he thought about it, the more he started to well up. He had broken from his emotional numbness and started to wail as tears streamed down his face. The wailing was a little unsettling for passers-by, however no one offered any help to him. 

I want to go home! What am I doing here?

When he eventually stopped crying, he tried once again to gather his thoughts and formulate a plan. He looked to his left and right, hoping that the dove flew back to find him. There was no sign of him. Then like a flash of lightning, he realised something important. He took out the first letter he received from Margaret and went to the bottom.

“My uncle works at a mill on Cambridge Street and I will be working there as well.”

That’s where I have to go!

With that he jumped to his feet to try and find where he was.

“Hello, can you tell me where Cambridge Street is?” asked Forrest to a stranger.

“Sure. It’s not far, follow this street and take the first left to Oxford Street, then go straight until you find a highway, then take a left and you should be there,” instructed the man, noticing the bags under Forrest’s eyes and his tear-stained cheeks. He offered his handkerchief to Forrest.

“Thank you mister,” said Forrest with a huge smile, cleaning himself up with the handkerchief and offering the man a handshake. “You just saved my day!”

It was nearly closing time for factories so he decided to sprint there with the sudden flash of energy he got from his realisation. While running, he kept thinking about what to say when he would meet her which only distracted him and nearly caused him to be run over by speeding cars as he zigzagged across the roads. The closer he got, the more anxious he got; he had no idea what to say to her, and how she would react to him being there. When he was within fifty feet of the street, he saw a huge factory. 

That must be it!

He was exhausted so he stopped to catch his breath. The excitement swept him, causing his hands and legs to shake uncontrollably and his heart-rate increased considerably; this euphoria was a rare feeling for him. He walked the rest of the way, breathing in deeply to make himself more relaxed. The factory was still open when he got there, and not knowing where to go or how to find Margaret, he asked the first person he could find.

“Hello, I’m looking for a girl working here, her name is Margaret, do you know where I can find her?” said Forrest to an old man, his set of clothes completely grey with dirt.

“Who?” replied the old man.

“Uh, she started working here recently and she has an uncle who also works here,” said Forrest.

“Oh, I think I know who you mean. Wait outside, she’ll be finished up in ten minutes. What’s your name?” said the man, as he pointed toward the exit. His accent was a little difficult to understand for Forrest.

“It’s Forrest, thanks!” said Forrest, his hands trembling again as he reached out to offer the a man hug. The old man raised an eyebrow in confusion and continued walking. Forrest strolled outside. He looked at himself, disgusted at the state of his cardigan and jeans; there were sweat stains everywhere. He blew his nose and wiped sweat from his face using the handkerchief that he forgot to give back. Noticing there was a florist on the other side of the road, he decided a flower might make up for his sloppy presentation. After several minutes of window shopping and haggling with the shopkeeper, he decided on a lily. As he returned to the front door of the factory, he noticed an elderly lady, as dirty as the old man he had talked to, standing by the door. She leaned against the frame of the door with her arms crossed. They exchanged glances and smiles but he was sure this was not Margaret so he stood outside in the courtyard, with the flower behind his back. 

After several minutes of glancing back and forth at each other, tapping his feet on the floor and sighing, he finally built up the courage to walk up to her.

“Hello miss, I’m looking for a girl named Margaret who works here,” he said after taking a deep breath to calm himself.

“Well I’m Margaret, but I’m no girl,” she said with a laugh. Although her voice was soft and elegant which belied her years, her pig-like laugh made Forrest back away a little.

“Wait,” he said, raising an eyebrow and frowning a little. “Were the letters Henry gave me from you?”

“Who’s Henry?” she said, squinting a little before putting on her glasses. He could see that although her tied-up hair was greying, she had remnants of blond hair.

“Oh, sorry, I meant the dove,” he replied. “I call him Henry to honour my brother.”

At that moment, as if on cue, the dove landed several feet away from Forrest and Margaret. Henry hopped over to Forrest who gave him some bird feed. 

“Oh, you’re Forrest, yes I was writing to you,” she said. She noticed that his hands were behind is back. “What do you have there?”

“It’s a lily,” he said as he offered the flower to her. She leaned over to smell it and smiled.

Henry flew up and perched himself atop the factory to watch Forrest and Maragaret converse.

“Thank you, Forrest,” she said as she took the flower. She noticed a glint of disappointment in his expression. “Why do you think Henry brought us together?”

“Maybe he thought we would make a good couple,” he answered as he chuckled, looking up at the dove.

“Perhaps in another life,” she said, joining in the chuckling.

“Perhaps,” he said, smiling as he watched the dove fly away.