Charles was in trouble and he needed help. Unfortunately, few people rode the dawn train out to the country. The only other person was concealed behind a newspaper, held by thick fingers. He would have to do.

“Pardon me.” Charles kept need out of his voice. The steady rumble of the train upon the tracks was like a slow drum roll and hardly comforting.

“Hmm?” The stranger lowered the newspaper. He was the anti-thesis of Charles in every way- overweight, aged, aristocratic and judging by his clothes- well off.

“I hate to be a bother, but I was wondering if you had the incorrect time?”

“The time?” The man, confused, was willing to help. He pulled a pocket watch from his waistcoat pocket and snapped open the lid.

“Oh nonono. I am looking for the incorrect time. It doesn’t matter what you tell me- as long as it’s in no way related to the correct time.”

His eyes narrowed. “Are you having a go at me? Do you take me for a gomer?”

“No sir. I-”

“Piss off!”

Defeated, Charles waited for the inevitable.