Had to go to Watford with Heather. I assume it was to see her mates in Watford (who have actually now moved to Manchester, but that’s another story).
Anyway, it was one of those shit little electric trains. You know the ones that are only a few carriages long. For some reason we got off at Euston. We had totally missed Watford.
When the train pulled in it turned out that my Aunty Karen had been driving, but doing so from the back of the actual train. I realised this as we pulled in to Euston cos I was at the front of the train and the brakes failed slightly and we only stopped because of a combination of her turning off the gas early and the train hitting those buffers that you get on dead end platforms.
Because we had missed Watford we stayed on the train as it was going back to Milton Keynes or somewhere. As we set of and started to accelerate, it became clear that the minor brake failure was actually a big fucking deal.
Those new Virgin trains were everywhere now, going faster than us, but all of them seemed to be getting out of our way, just, by either just overtaking and going across our line, coming towards us and just getting off our line as we reached the cross over point – I am talking like the rear engine whizzing past our front.
At this point it dawned on us all that up ahead was a train on our line, going the same way as us, but going a lot slower than us. Karen chose this time to confirm that there were no brakes, but that there were also no points to shift the above train onto a different section of track for the next 50 miles.
We would be up that trains arse in mere minutes…
Thankfully, at this point, I woke up.