‘It shouldn’t be legal,’ Dominic mutters, leaning towards me across the table. ‘Don’t you think? Babies in first? Outrageous. It’s first for a reason isn’t it? We’re all here to work, or have more money than sense – and if it’s the latter then there should be a separate carriage labelled “more money than sense”.’

I drift off as he complains, watching the woman cuddle and soothe her baby, so bundled in layers of fancy striped blankets that she could easily be carrying a load of bedding if it weren’t squawking and crying in her arms. She’s hot, I think, craning my neck for a better look.

‘Eh?’ Dominic straightens, head swivelling back and forth. ‘Who? Did I miss a supermodel boarding or something?’

‘I … I meant the baby … It’ll stop in a minute,’ I stammer, looking out of the window at the train on the opposite platform. I didn’t think I’d said anything.

‘How do you know? What are you, the baby whisperer?’

I snap myself back to the task at hand as the train rolls out of the station, East London opening up around us, looming steelworks from its massive construction projects jutting as enormous and frozen as dinosaur skeletons. It would be so easy to forget where we’re going now, the landscape is so alien. Especially with a view from first class. This train could be going anywhere but Warchester.

‘The beauty of the Olympics, eh?’ Dominic drawls from across the table. ‘All that government tripe about a billion-pound shot in the arm for East London. The reality is the shires will languish 195in disrepair for years as a result. It’s four years out and here they are, already pouring the fucking foundations…’

I let him rant, passing our tickets over to the inspector shuffling past us down the aisle. The more comfortable he is when we get down to business, the better.

‘You’re only valid to Warchester, miss,’ the ticket inspector says as he punches the stubs. ‘You’ll have to buy yourselves new tickets if you want to continue on to Ipswich.’

‘There’s no danger of that,’ Dominic trills from across the table. ‘Can we expect the buffet car any time soon?’

‘And there’ll be a fine if you forget,’ he says, scowling at him before moving along. The train bends its way north, sun suddenly dazzling through the windows, nature’s own spotlight. I take a deep breath.