I'm never going on another train again," I was told by a woman who I regularly see on my journey to work but have never actually spoken to before.

And one of the reasons for not having even exchanged so much as a "Would you believe it signal failure at Three Bridges again," with her is that most of the time she is glued to her mobile phone issuing instructions alternately to subordinates at work or nanny at home.

"Ok, Chris, I'm not going to make it to the pre-briefing briefing as the train is running half an hour late. So, can you get corporate IT up to speed on the South Africa transaction and I'll take over before the Japanese arrive? Lovely... thanks... see you later, bye."

And the: "Orla, it's me. Matilda has ballet after school today and she needs a pink ribbon sewn onto the dress. You'll find one in the back of the drawer on the left of the cooker and don't forget to check Christopher's snack for E numbers. He was completely hyper last Monday and I've got a very important deal to conclude this week. I simply can't afford any bad nights. OK?.. Great.. Got to go. There's a call on my other phone."

"Hello, Hi Chris. The figures for the South Africa projections? Sorry, I forgot you need a password to access them. Hold on I'll just get them up on my laptop."

This is how she usually passes the journey from London to Brighton, not wasting a moment in idle chit chat to fellow commuters. So, I was surprised to discover she was indeed addressing me.

"I know how you feel," I mumbled, in response to her never going on another train comment.

"No, you don't understand," she continued. "I am NEVER going on another train again."

"Oh," I said, unsure how best to respond. "That's nice. Have you got a company car or something then?"

"No, I've given up work," she replied. "I've had enough of commuting. I've been making this journey for the last 20 years and it now takes twice as long as it did 20 years ago. So I've decided enough is enough. No more."

"Oh, Good for you," I said. But just then her mobile rang.

"Hello. Yes. No Theresa knows exactly where everything is. All the telecommunications files have been downloaded and Bob has copies. OK, thanks bye."

"Work," she said to me, by way of explanation.

"I thought you'd given up," I answered, suspecting that she wasn't going to last very long without the phone or the laptop.

"Yes, absolutely. From now on they'll have to do without me," she assured me. "Excuse me a moment." She picked up the phone again. "Miranda, it's me. Look, I'm just on my way home and it's just occurred to me that there are few companies to add to the block e-mail I'll send you the addresses tonight OK? Thanks, bye."

"So?"' I wondered, "are you going to be working from home?"

"No, no. I'm going to be managing the children," she said. Managing mind you, not looking after or spending more time with but 'managing'.

She picked up her phone again. "Matilda, Mummy here. I'm on the train home. I'm making sure you've tidied up the living room and got your bedtime story ready for tonight....."