TRAVELLED home on Wednesday evening with magazine's incredibly camp art director. He was on reconnaissance trip, to become better acquainted with boy he'd met at weekend party.

Have to admit to slight squeamishness as he revealed details of sex life in graphic detail at top of voice, apparently oblivious to fact that rest of carriage were squirming behind newspapers.

Further embarrassed by fact that blond athletic man from Hassocks was sitting opposite us and so call "friend" kept giving him come hither looks and whispering (stage whispering) to me: "Does this gorgeous man travel every day?"

Neither prepared to admit in public that I too find him gorgeous, nor entertain possibility that object of own mild train flirtation could be gay. Art director seems sure he is.

The following morning decided to sneak onto 7.15 and hide at front of train, despite having made arrangement to meet art director in buffet car of 7.45 so that he could "tell all".

Evasive tactics taken to avoid regurgitation of details of last night's liaison also looked like having positive knock on effect of getting me to work in time to read papers, open post and arrive at meeting brimming with ideas and bursting to go.

As with all the best laid plans, this one was thwarted by unexplained delay.

Suspect proximity to station meant guard was able to leg it in relative safety and avoid mounting frustration of passengers, with glimpse of end of platform 16 but no means by which to reach it without threat of electrocution.

Also wonder why, in desperation to avoid further details of colleague's sex life, I had passed up on the one chance of having someone to back up tale of train delay.

But now curious to find out how his date did go and wishing bashfulness about hearing explicit details on train had not got in the way of plans, when mobile began to ring.

"Where are you?" demanded voice of art director. "I'm in the buffet about 100 yards outside of Brighton station and apparently the train is delayed until further notice."

Realise there's nothing for it but to admit took earlier train. "Needed to get to the meeting on time," I muttered, waiting for returning accusation of disloyalty.

Art director, however, obviously buoyed up by previous night and simply asks: "And have you?"

"Well, no actually. I've been sitting 50 foot short of Victoria station for the past half hour - as the train has been delayed also until further notice."

At this point the train moved off, cutting off signal and heralding voice of platform announcer: "Apologies to passengers arriving at platform 16. The train has been delayed due to the late running of the service behind it, which has only just left Brighton."

Now work that one out.

Converted for the new archive on 30 June 2000. Some images and formatting may have been lost in the conversion.