She can bear witness, since she was there at the time.

Emily. Em-il-y, three syllables, like a knock on the door of destiny. Such an odd, old-fashioned name, compared to those Kylies and Traceys and Jades — names that reeked of Impulse and grease and stood out in gaudy neon colours

It is, frankly, a scandal that at the various rail industry events I attend, the number of non-white faces can be counted on one or (at best) two hands.

Perhaps it was the too-tooing of the youth on the coach horn which frustrated the proposal, and made it appear ludicrous rather than insultive to her ears.