Forgiven

On the train on the way home from Oxford a group of twelve boys, probably all twelve year olds, were annoying the rest of the passengers. They were firing spitty bits of paper through straws at each other. They weren't aiming at or hitting any one else but their group, but the windows by their seats were covered in the nasty bits of chewed paper and so was the floor. They were also using foul language.

I would have loved to have given them some words of advice and told them to clean up but I was begged not to by my daughter, who thought one of them went to her school. None of the other passengers felt able to act.

However, just to numb my feelings of impotence - as they got off at Didcot I carefully put my foot out into the aisle as the last of the group left the train. He tripped over it, turned to me and .... apologised! I supposed he was sorry he had tripped over my foot, rather than having behaved badly on the train.