Diary

The second train was very crowded.

It only had two carriages, and it wasn't enough.

I thought I was lucky to get a seat at a table with only one other person.

He had a large leather bag which he'd put in the centre of the luggage rack in such a way that it took up the whole space.

And when I sat down in the outer corner of the table I discovered he had placed his large body in such a way that it took up the whole of the other three spaces and left me very little room on the fourth.

And the table was full of his things: his wallet, his phone, his copy of the Sun.

But he wasn't looking angry or defensive or aggressive or guilty. He was just there, and obviously in his eyes he had every right to be there.

His self assurance was so impregnable, somehow, that I couldn't find even a chink in it.

I said nothing, tried to take up as little space as possible, and tucked my legs under the table.

And I thought that resisting this is one of the things our EVE is all about.

That was a little consolation.

And then I got to Nairn; and it is, as you see, just beautiful.