I just received this wonderful email from a reader, which I thought you’d like to see!!!

Dear Peter

My daughter, Tamar, somewhat the worse for wear last Friday, was running at Victoria Station  for one of the last trains to Brighton, when the signed copy of your latest masterpiece fell from her bag, bounced on the platform, and disappeared under the train. She skidded to an unsteady halt and watched, breathless, as the train pulled out of the station, cart wheeling your book across the tracks as it went, the book neatly coming to rest and open on the electric track. The guy who had just blown the whistle that had told the train to depart observed her as she unsteadily stared at the book and in broad Jamaican accent asked:
“What’s de trouble darling?”

“My book.”

He looked.  “It’s just a book.”

“You don’t understand, it’s a signed copy and one day will be worth as fortune.”

He pondered.  “Dat’s different I suppose.”   He thought some more. “Just a moment, I gotta idea.” And he spoke into the talking brooch on his lapel. An unintelligible answer came back and he turned to Tamar.  “We gotta wait for four minutes.”

“What happens then?”

“They turn off the power to platforms sixteen to nineteen that’s what happens.” 

They wait. Four minutes later his talking brooch springs into life and a gargling voice says.  “Power off from 16 to 19. You have one minute.” At which the guy leaps down onto the track, scoops up your book, clambers back onto the platform and hands it to Tamar.

“Here’y go darling. All part of the service. You got about two minutes to get yer arse to platform 19, that’s the last train out to Brighton.”

At which point Tamar  gives him a kiss and stumbles off.

So next time you curse staff at a station, remember this wonderful guy at Victoria!  Roy Grace’s Hero Of The Week!!!!!!