CHARING CROSS STATION,  FROM HUNGERFORD BRIDGE

CENTRAL LONDON

MAY 3 2007

"Jeez,  I'm absolutely exhausted",  said Elizabeth,  puffing slightly and slumping her youthful undercarriage on the rusting tracks.

"Do you know how hard it is to carry a cargo full of miserable commuters back and forth to Charing Cross every day,  five days a week.  I'm wrecked!"

Margaret,  the longer of the three trains,  tutted audibly,  and gave a sideways glance to Victoria,  who,  beginning to dribble a little,   had almost nodded off to her left.

"Hark at the new girl,  would you.  My dear,  when you have been in service as long as Vickie and myself,  then you might have earned the right to comment on the rigors and woes of daily life"

Victoria,  a veteran of almost seven years,  since way before the Connex South East debacle,  and the bright purple upholstery refit, nodded and spoke in equally condescending tone

"Whilst you two were warm and cosy in the comfort of the holding sheds,  some of us were out on the tracks,  working our backsides off to serve the public!   How about the London to East sussex route three times every week,  full compliment of passengers,  buffet car and additional carriages stressing my body,  and these wheels are not getting any younger you know"

Margaret agreed,  and concluded

"That's the trouble with these newly revamped wipper-snappers,  they don't know when they've got it made!"

Elizabeth shrugged and sighed,  her year old livery warmed by the midday sun,  as she bowed her head,  resigned to accept the wisdom of her older peers

"I was only saying!"