RARE CONNECTIONS

“You’ll never guess what!” said the Boss-Man. He looked both surprised and delighted to see me, exactly one week after our platform discourse on the lateness of trains.

“It arrived just after I left, didn’t it?” I said, already knowing the answer. Boss-Man smiled. Last week’s delayed train had indeed arrived moments after Sammy had picked me up.

“Oh well,” I sighed. At that moment, the train, this week’s on-time service, rattled into the station, squealing its way to a stop. The Boss-Man and I made our way to the nearest door.

I suppose I really ought to call him Bossman.

I mean I’m sure he has a name, but we’re now at the degree of acquaintance where it might be awkward to ask each other for introductions. (That may seem absurd to the rest of the world by the way, but trust me, it won’t be to British people.) I almost think it might spoil things if I did find out Bossman’s name. So Bossman it is.

“Do you want company?” he asked. There’s only one answer to that in this context and so I picked it, even though I was already regretting having to slip my headphones away in favour of early morning conversation.

Bossman’s not my guardian angel. That was one theory for his appearance last week, but no, he’s a regular guy, a middle-class project manager who works in engineering. We had a long chat as the train sped through the Oxfordshire countryside, the conversation slowly warming around common ground, as often it does.

You don’t often get chance, I’ve realised, to make a new friend, and this seemed like a rare connection. 

Bossman is still, obviously a boss - confident, unflustered, bold, and in charge, but he seemed happier to be asked things than maybe I expected, and both knowledgable and interested in what I do. The dance of conversation flows from the rhythm of questions and answers. It was a good reminder for me.

He gets off before me, a stop or two before Oxford, so he rose, shook my hand and said, “Have a good day,” and “See you again.”

I waited for the train to start moving before I plugged my AirPods back into my ears. The actress Patricia Hodge picked up where she’d left off in talking about Elizabeth and Mary in the difficult summer of 1554. It occurred to me that running into Bossman again is likely to be inevitable - and that perhaps my audiobook reading rate is going to slow down. But these are rare connection points aren’t they, in a world of increasing isolation. Perhaps, even though I’m not exactly on scintillating form between 7 and 8 in the morning, the trade off will be worth it.