He had mouthed the words, giving the word ‘sorry’ the same heavy emphasis as the earnest announcer. Why would there be no catering services? It was because the trains had indeed been switched, which meant the person who wheeled the refreshment trolley would not be able to get along the narrower aisle of the replacement carriages. What would that person do now? Was he or she assigned to some other train, or did it mean that he or she had been advised to stay at home? The ticket price would be the same for Michael despite the absence of refreshments. There would be no refund, and no contingency plan – the train operator wouldn’t scramble emergency rations in a cool-box. You’d be left hungry and thirsty, all the way to Gloucester. He glanced at a woman sitting at the end of the bench.

‘Are you on the next one?’ he said.

She was wearing tiny headphones, and had to remove them.

‘I’m sorry?’ she said.

‘I was wondering if you were on the Great Malvern service. The 09.46 as it was meant to be.’

‘Yes.’

‘I got this train last month, and it wasn’t on time.’

‘Oh, they never are.’

Michael laughed.

‘You wonder they don’t change the timetables,’ he said. ‘If they simply changed the 46 to 56 they’d be so much closer. I suggested that on one of their customer feedback forms. Have you ever filled one of those in?’

The woman was smiling back. ‘I really wouldn’t bother,’ she said.

‘I’m still waiting for the reply,’ said Michael. ‘I’m an important customer, apparently. My opinions are very important to them, but they haven’t quite got round to getting back to me yet. You know there’s no catering service today?’

The woman shook her head. ‘I never use it,’ she said.

‘I do, when I can. For fear they’ll do away with it. You could say I’m trying to encourage them, but you can’t encourage someone who keeps letting you down.’

She held the earbuds in her fingers, getting ready to reinsert them.

‘Where are you heading?’ said Michael – and there was a pause.

‘Cheltenham.’

‘Oh,’ said Michael. ‘A lovely town.’

‘My daughter lives there.’

‘Lucky her. Lucky you, in fact, because—’

‘She was a student there, and never quite left.’

‘Really?’

Michael nodded, remembering a postcard he’d seen of some fine-looking square, with bright, flowering gardens. He had a feeling that had been Cheltenham, or Bath – or somewhere similar.

‘Why would she want to?’ he said, quickly. ‘There are worse places to live than Cheltenham. I had a bite to eat there years ago, and there’s the most lovely tea room. Not that I spend all my time thinking about refreshments.’

He smiled, and the woman simply looked at him.