Night shift

Night Shift Sheena used to have a cushy job at her uncle’s company: answering phones, filling databases—when she felt like it—and sinking into a bean bag during generous unofficial breaks. She rode the Jubilee line daily, arriving late, sipping hot coffee, gossiping, and barely working. That ended when her uncle noticed the missed calls and the empty desk. Her email went dark. Her commute stopped. Until tonight. Her phone buzzed with a lifeline. “Yes, this is Sheena... I can start immediately.” Now, her apartment was a graveyard of instant noodle pots and cereal boxes. She cracked a window for the first time in weeks. An art museum needed an overnight custodian—perfectly low effort. Sheena had no choice. At midnight, she descended into the stark brightness of the underground. The station was unnervingly silent, the shrill beep of her travel card echoing off the walls. The escalator groaned beneath her. The platform stretched endlessly. When the train arrived, it did so with a roar. She boarded. Only two others sat scattered through the carriage—a sleeping man and a timid young woman gripping her bag. A robotic voice buzzed: “Held at a red light. Please wait.” Sheena sighed, eyeing the outdated ads and flickering lights. She closed her eyes just for a moment. The train jolted. Someone boarded at the last second, making the carriage lurch. Sheena stirred. Opposite her now sat someone in rain-drenched shoes, mud trailing across the floor. Had it started raining? The train picked up speed, then slowed… and stopped. Darkness swallowed the carriage. Tunnel lights zipped past, then faded. Silence. Sheena flicked on her phone torch. The man was gone. The woman too. Seats empty. She turned the beam to the muddy shoes. Still there. Still seated. Watching. Her breath caught. Her finger trembled on the screen. Then: “Next stop—Southwark,” the PA crackled to life. The lights snapped on. The shoes were still muddy—but no one sat in them. Sheena stood, heart racing. At the next stop, she stepped off the train without looking back. She would walk to the museum from here. Maybe even arrive early. Maybe she'd even keep the job this time.