I can breathe today.
For the last few days I have been a bit worried: one of the train fitties has been missing.
He's one of the ones that gets the connecting train as well.
I get two trains in the morning, one to Leicester, and then the connecting one out to work. Then in the evening I get the return journey, again connecting in Leicester. And this particular train fitty gets on all four of the trains. Or did... until Monday.
Monday evening he got off the first train at Leicester, but never got on the second train. I presumed I had just not seen him, missed him somehow (though this is difficult as he wears a very bright red trackie-top and carries a similarly bright yellow bag. Not that I pay far too much attention to him or anything...). But then he didn't get any of the trains on Tuesday either. By Wednesday I was starting to assume that he had popped into Leicester to pick up some dinner on Monday night but been abducted by the aggressive taxi-drivers who hang around outside the main entrance and forced overseas to work in a sweatshop producing lingerie.
I have an ever-so-slightly active imagination.
Anyhow, this morning I was running slightly late, so got breakfast at the train station. There I was struggling onto the train with a very unhealthy sausage sandwich and spilling rather hot tea all over my hands, when the train fitty appeared. Why do they always appear when I am looking as far from hansome, debonnair, sophisticated as I possibly can?! Oh well, at least I know he's not dead.
And, when I eventually pluck up the courage to talk to him, I could even ask him where he went for all those days.
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