Departure boards and exit barriers, their sadness is palpable. I watch her walk the concourse down to platform 3, her final wave, the mouthed, 'Bye Mum.' The traffic lights are blurred by silent tears. I push past youngsters, their heads bobbing, plugged into their own worlds and past a mother with two small children. I used to walk like that, one on either side, like dogs on leads, straining to escape.