The young woman and I left the Chil gig and walked to the small railway station.

Our journey home should have been straightforward, but we missed one train because we weren’t paying attention to the platform announcements, another because we didn’t realise that trains to Oxford and to Small Heath stopped at our destination, and a fourth because we couldn’t find platform M.

Then we stuck up a conversation with a young engineer who was lingering by the train commandeered by the BBC as a media centre. We were now completely distracted and unlikely ever to return to Northfield.