It’s a little before seven in the evening and I’m sat on a train at Sheringham Station blogging. Just opposite a young woman has all her make-up out and is giving her face the full works.
Behind her is a guy wearing headphones. He’s singing (miming) to his reflection in the train window.
There’s something about travelling on trains at night, when it’s dark outside, that’s very atmospheric. Gone are the vast open space of fields and sea and sky in the next room. Instead we’re all in this narrow tube together avoiding each other’s looks in the mirror like Windows.
We pull into Cromer and a fresh intake of faces join us. Join our carriage. A woman in a yellow jumper. A man with plastic shopping bags that look like they have been used many times.
Because of the way the railway is set out the train now continues out of Cromer the same way it came in and we won’t know if it has successfully negotiated the junction until we arrive in North Walsham (and hopefully not Sheringham again).
The young woman plats her hair. The woman in the yellow jumper looks at her book. The guy with the bags it too far down the train to see what he’s doing.
The guy with the headphones is not to be seen. I can only presume het alighted at Cromer.
We pull into North Walsham and I breathe a sigh of relief. We’re heading in the right direction and I can relax, sit back and avoid eye contact, which might be difficult as the young woman is now plucking her eyebrows.