After a wonderful few nights with my grand girls, I stepped onto the train for a CT scan at the Beatson Cancer Clinic. I like the name. It has Beat in its construct. And, the evening before, I was teaching my grand girls beatboxing. At least, I think that’s the term. They, like all the other grandlings in my big family, in some way or other, are into music and beat. We played with mouth sounds, many of which, in ordinary life, are advisably contained. A hiss, a growl, a guttural whaaaa, etc, but as beat, anything, pretty much, goes. We walked beneath a closed sky, watched what we could see of the filming of Outlander at Doune Castle, squelched through mud, passed horses and actors and a medieval film set. It was exciting just to be there.

Then The train. My lovelies sent me off with kisses and promises through windows long needing a clean, but, I’m guessing, it has rained for yonks, the tracks luffing up mud and whatnot for some weeks, months. Nonetheless, within the confines of this efficient tube of transport, I made friends, not least because my short hair is electric blue. It’s like an invitation to conversation, and, I understand, it’s not for everyone, but it is just that for me. A lovely woman up-beat from me (in other words, the next set of seats) eye-glanced me, and I smiled. When she came up to me, just before her stop, I knew she felt safe, and I knew it was my smile that invited her in. She could have been going to divorce proceedings, a difficult meet, or to a wonderful job, but she came in. I love your hair, she said, stranger to stranger. It tells me something I may have forgotten in the crazy of my life. I smiled again, and nodded. She’ll do the rest. Then, in slid a young man. He was polite, respectful and we did the smile thing. He worked on something, paper and pen. Then, from a tap behind, he responded to a woman who couldn’t make her mobile do something she wanted. He respectfully helped her, and after this was done, he turned back to me and I said, That was a gift?

He said, no, and yes. I love to help. He asked about me. I said I was heading for a CT scan pre radiotherapy. He said nothing, but his eyes said everything. When he left, he bowed and took my hand, his young brown one in my old white one. A moment I will remember, even if I never got his name.