Should know to expect the unexpected but this evening took me by surprise.
I made my usual 17.20 departure but as I boarded there was this rather plump, oldish lady with a pushchair in the vestibule. 'Does this train go to Peterborough?' She asked in a nice Irish accent. 'Yes love, first stop'. I replied in my usual northern tounge and wondered off to find my seat. Now I didn't notice anything untoward at the time but with the benefit of hindsight, the warning signs were there for those that were on guard.
Anyway, just after the platform staff had shut the carraige door and the guard made his usual 'anyone not wishing to travel leave the train now cos were off' type thing, we heard this bansee type wail from the vestibule, 'Oi. Stop. I want to get off. How do you open the door? Stop? Oi! You. STOP! I haven't got a ticket. I only got on to use the toilet. This is going to sound horrid but half the carraige were in creases. I can't explain how she sounded but it those that have watched it would understand if I said the whole episode wouldn't have looked outa place in an episode of Father Ted.
One fella did get up to try and help her but by this time the doors were locked and it was too late. She abandonded her pushchair and went running off down the train in search of a guard. He returned to his seat half laughing, half smiling and off we went to Peterborough.
Eventually she returned to her pushchair still muttering how the platform staff had ignored her, how she hadn't got a ticket and how she only got on to use the toilet. Then she realised she was on for the duration and decided she might as well take a seat. That's when the smell hit us all. There was no escape either. As she'd run half way down the train. Every carraige stank! You know the smell? Vagrant, unwashed type smell. The sort you lingers in your throat so you can smell it hours afterwards.
Fucking great.
I decide I might as well stay where I am becasue the lady opposite is wearing a rather strong perfume which masks most of the stench and start to read my standard. Bad mistake. I can't ignore somebody who's talking either directly or generally to me. Everyone else did though. Sadly the conversation went something like this
'It goes to Peterborough you say?'
'Yes Love'.
'How far is it? Ah, It's not far, 10 mile or so I think. is that right?
'No love. More like 80 mile or so'
'How long does it take'?
'3/4's of an hour to 50 mins'
'A half hour and a quarter you say. Where is Peterborough anyway, have you been there?'
'I've been a few times yes'
'Ah, I've not. Don't want to go there either. I only got on for the toilet'
'Yes, I heard'
I won't go on but eventually she did leave me alone but but then the ticket inspector arrived. 'Got your ticket love?' Has she fuck.
10 minutes later we've all heard the story again together with the odd plea for us to back up her story. Bollocks to that. The ticket man disappeared and returned with an off duty Transport WPC. Quite where or how he found her I've no idea. I thought 'there's going to be trouble here' but our WPC lady is in abenevolent mood. She pursuades the GNER man to put the lady off at Peterborough and she'd deal with her from there. Sorted.
It would have been had our lady friend not fallen asleep. As she dosed she started leaning further and further until I was convinced she was going to keel over into the aisle. I nodded to our WPC who jumped up and woke her in the nick of time. Poor love then decided she'd sit next to her all the way back to Tinsel Town. (She must be used to odd smells cos I couldn't have sat there for 20 minutes).
Eventually got back to The Boro and so I didn't have to got another nostril full, I made sure I was up and at the door well before the old lady. Despite everything, her presence made for a memorable journey.