Unknown person had apparently done the same. Although, judging by remarks which passed as conversation between him and grumpy daughter, his tardiness was occasioned not by turning off the alarm and going back to sleep, but trying to persuade truculent teenager to comply with plan that she should spend day with him in London.
"Ahhhh. I hate these trains. They're so cramped..."
"Well, if you hadn't spent so long deciding whether you were going to come or not, we could have got the earlier one."
"Ahhhh. You're SO not worth even having a conversation with."
Poor old unknown person fared no better when he attempted to break ice over the buffet trolley.
"Do you fancy anything? You didn't have any breakfast this morning did you?"
"Like what?"
"Cup of tea? A Croissant? Sandwich or something?"
Grumpy girl gave, admittedly motley, selection a curious once over before announcing: "Well there's nothing I can eat is there? Nothing for vegans."
"I didn't know you were a vegan, Kate. How long have you been a vegan for?"
"Oh God... You don't know anything Dad. I've been a vegan for ages - at least three weeks. Ahhhh."
As journey progressed it became apparent that dad was no longer a permanent feature in Kate's household, hence his lack of knowledge about her dietary requirements and other aspects of her life about which he tried in vain to elicit more than an angry "Ahhhh" in response to his questions.
In the end he gave up and resorted to reading the paper, while Kate took out from her bag a sort of Perspex with fish personal organiser thing, which she leafed through furiously - obviously planning ahead for better days, spent in the company of friends her own age, rather than that of her ageing (though actually probably only in his early forties and rather attractive, now you come to mention it), estranged father.
Their relationship was put under further strain when the train stopped at Haywards Heath and failed to get going again. After about ten minutes, during which dad had had to endure murderous looks which implied he and he alone was responsible for the efficiency of the entire rail network and was therefore wholly to blame for this delay, dad decided to take action.
"Look, we might as well change here," he said. He began gathering up his belongings and urged Kate to do the same. She followed slowly and they were just getting off when I noticed the organiser thing was still on her seat.
"Excuse me!" I said. "You've forgotten your fish thing!" At this Kate looked livelier than she had done all morning and sprinted back up the carriage to retrieve it. It was then that the sliding door closed and the train finally departed - leaving dad at Haywards Heath and me apparently in charge of a nightmare adolescent.
Converted for the new archive on 30 June 2000. Some images and formatting may have been lost in the conversion.
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