ACCIDENTALLY did "a Cherie" this morning. This involved not miraculously conceiving a child, the miracle in my case not being my grand old age - have a good ten years to go before I catch up with Ms B - but the fact that, despite efforts over the past year to attract attention of blond, athletic man from Hassocks, mobile phone man from Brighton and various other single-looking men who board the train at various other stations, have so far failed to attract more than a passing remark about the lateness of the 7.45.

No, Cherie-type behaviour to which I found myself pleading guilty was travelling to work without being in possession of a valid ticket.

What with Christmas, New Year, flu etc, had forgotten that my monthly season ticket, purchased before all of the above, had expired the day before.

Realised need for renewal when conductor began making his daily "tickets please" pilgrimage down the train.

Debated with self whether better to own up there and then, risking suspicious glances from fellow in-possession-of-valid-ticket commuters, or hope that conductor, like ticket inspectors on platform at Brighton, would fail to notice ticket had expired.

In the end, opted for latter

course of action, intending like Cherie to seek out man or woman in uniform at Victoria, explain mistake, purchase valid ticket for the day and

hope that on top of hefty price

of a day return would not also be

subjected to indignity of hefty on-the-spot fine.

"I'm afraid," I explained, "that what with Christmas and the New Year and having had the most terrible bout of flu, I forgot to renew my ticket, which ran out yesterday. So I need to buy a return ticket for today."

"Your name's not Mrs Blair by any chance? Ha ha ha ha," chortled the inspector.

"Not Ms Booth either. Ha ha ha," I replied, thinking it best to enter into the spirit of the encounter.

To which he looked at me blankly (obviously several decades of women's lib have entirely bypassed railway platform staff) before beginning to explain.

"I was referring to the Prime Minister's wife who unfortunately had to be fined for travelling without a ticket." The encounter was going downhill but then went up again.

"However, since you're obviously just one of those forgetful types (obviously unlike Cherie, who he must know is a hotshot barrister), I'll let you off this time."

Muttered my gratitude, paid for ticket and headed across concourse when I was caught up by above-mentioned blond athletic man from Hassocks.

"You're running late," he said. "I left my laptop on the train and had to go back for it. What's your excuse?"

"Well, " I said, hoping to catch his attention with humour. "Just had a spot of Cherie trouble."

"Oh dear," he replied, looking genuinely concerned.

"Morning sickness, poor you. Didn't realise you were pregnant. I just presumed you'd put on a bit of weight over Christmas. Anyway, congratulations. Must go..."

Converted for the new archive on 30 June 2000. Some images and formatting may have been lost in the conversion.