Jim was at the bus stop in the village by half-past six in the morning, waiting for the bus to Nelson. The sun was well on its way on its arc across the sky and the morning had a crispness about it that suggested it might be hot come the afternoon.
The bus was late and so was the train from Nelson to Preston. Both the train and the bus looked like they needed a lick of paint and a more urgent once over by a competent cleaner.
He tried to find a public toilet in the station in Preston, but they were closed, so he had to wait to use the toilet on the train. When he saw the state of the toilet on the train, he contemplated trying to hold it in until Edinburgh but doubted the capacity of his bladder, so held his breath as long as he could while he relieved himself.
There was no trolley ser
