Dear East Coast Trains, I am travelling North just now on the 1833 from Edinburgh Waverley to Aberdeen. We are at Kirkcaldy as I start to write this. It is just after 7pm and the train is running well and on time. I and my partner, Glenn, are off to visit my family for the weekend. We are excited and as we sit down to begin our journey we physically start to relax in to our genuinely comfy seats. But seconds later, we are disturbed by a sound I have never heard before. A high, screeching noise not unlike nails being scraped slowly across a blackboard except, somehow, the sound is magnified, as if the volume has been set to eleven. We are shaken/on edge. Our lives had begun to flash before our eyes in just a second. What hellish beast must be approaching that such an infernal yawp would be needed to herald its arrival? We looked around us, nervously, edgily, clutching at each other in fear. Quivering behind our seats we rose tentatively, to see what might be coming for us... As we stole an anxious glimpse over the top of our seat reservations we see our fellow travel companions enjoying their journey, barely perturbed by the momentary yet shattering aural disturbance. No one was quivering as we were, not one person had blood trickling from their ears... I couldnt understand. This seemed impossible. We returned to sitting, somewhat unsettled and confused. But no sooner had we sat back down but there, it came again! Crashing through our brains! Shrieking through our hearts! Battering at our ear drums! The squawk of some reptilian bird king, surely? A ghost from hell itself has come amongst us! Faster this time, my head whipped round in split second timing. I must face this horrendous being! Gritting my teeth I was ready for anything. I fixed my eyes on the noise bringer... My eyes darted and fixed on a little old lady, arranging some knitting that seemed to be Nordic design mittens (in navy blue and a grey marl). Her wee pink face concentrating on pulling her tray table down... Surely this cant be my damned foe? No sooner had I caught sight of the old woman and... That underworld-like ear-battering rung through my cerebrum yet again. Throwing myself in the direction of the phonic nightmare - I saw before me a young boy, angel-faced and adjusting his tray table for him to set out his packed tea... How can this be?!!! The realisation came smashing down upon me. The tray tables! The tray tables were making this barbaric auditory hell a reality. I knew it in an instant. The hell I heard wasnt signalling the end of the human world as I had thought... It was actually the moving of tray tables on the backs of our seats that were haunting us so. Thats when I knew I must write to you urgently, so you might relieve the pain and suffering of your more sensitive customers for I know you would not intentionally wish us harm. I have no idea what calamitous incident caused this train to behave in this way, but I do hope you will be able to resolve this issue. And for all our sakes, that it is done soon. I will close now, for I know not what else I can do but send my message, hoping that it will be received by some noble person in the possession of a can of WD40. Yours faithfully, Mhari Hetherington.
Posted on: Fri, 26 Sep 2014 19:18:12 +0000