ON THE TAUNTON TRAIN

On the Taunton train. A group of three people, two women one man, I’d seen a minute or so before walk through this carraige to the one in front, came back and sat down near me.
The guard passing stopped said, ‘have you been asked to leave the quiet coach?’
‘Yes,’ said one of the women, ‘we were the only ones talking.’
‘You’re allowed to talk, not on mobiles but to each other you can.’
‘Yeh, well, we thought it’d be okay but they asked us to leave, so we did.’
The three of them sat in aircraft seats, the women behind the man who turned to face them through the gap between the headrests. Across the aisle from them, me, sitting at a table, looking out a window at the countryside going past.
The man said, ‘I like this journey, going down to Dawlish.’
‘Oh yes, me too, I love Dawlish,’ said one of the women.
‘Yes, I love walking by the sea,’ said the other.
‘Oh no,’ the first one said, ‘I don’t do that.’