A number of weeks ago I rode a train from London to the coast. Sometimes one gets a two to one's self thereby allowing for; sloppy sitting, space for your bags, not being squashed e.t.c. But not this time. It was a busy train and an elderly gentleman, businessman most probably, sat next to me. He had a serious air about him with his bowler hat, brolly and newspaper.
As the train pulled out of Waterloo Station, my seat-mate was putting his hat, coat and brolly away, (on the luggage rack above us) before settling down to his broadsheet. I also put my bags away (under my seat) and settled into my knitting. I was knitting decreases in the sleeve of my cardigan and so was counting audibly - but barely above a whisper - when I noticed him peering at me over his newspaper. I wondered, "Could this be yet another fellow traveller interested in my knitting?" {knitting is such a conversation starter. you see people glance surreptitiously once. Then again. Before you know it you're being told all about a favourite grandma/ aunt/ girlfriend...that knit and the lovely hat/ blanket/ scarf that they still own from that favourite grandma/ aunt/ girlfriend...}I turned to him just as he turned to his newspaper.
Had I imagined that he was looking at me? Oh, well. Now where was I? yes, back to my sleeves. Again, that glance and again (but before I could catch his eye) he had turned to his paper. Am I imagining things? Why does he keep looking at me - that way? (I could feel his displeasure and I bet he could feel mine!). His not-so-surreptitious glances were causing me to lose my place.
Eventually I turned to sit with my back against the window and so caught him the next time he looked my way.
"Can I help you?" I asked.
"No, not at all.", he answered.
"Well it's just that I was under the impression you've been wanting to say something to me." I said.
To which he flatly replied, "I was trying to determine whether you are insane or not. You've been mumbling intermittently but stop when I turn to say something about it."
I paused. me? insane? whatever could he mean? what intermittent mumbling?
and then I got it.
"Oh, I apologise. I was counting my stitches so as so keep track of my knitting."
I'm not sure he was totally convinced but as he didn't change seats he must've felt relatively safe with his travelling companion.