The little girl sitting opposite me could not have been more than five. She looked mighty cross about Life and the indignities that it puts a person through. She was wearing one of those monstrously frilly frocks that parents keep stuffing their children into and I wasn't surprised by her expression. Her sister sat next to her with a vacant expression on her face. Her lips were askew and she looked as if she were sucking on a sour lemon. She looked about ten years old. Their parents were nowhere around. Perhaps they had gone to buy magazines or food before the train started, I thought. The seats next to ours were empty.
This was my first train ride alone and I had decided to make the most of it. Nobody was going to ask every ten minutes if I was suuurrreeee-that-I-did-not-wantto- use-the-bathroom. I solemnly swore that I would buy and eat anything edible that was sold on the train. I was an impartial fifteen-year-old and I would not discriminate against any vendor. If groundnuts were good, samosas were better!
I opened a packet of Lays and started munching with great relish.
The dour older girl looked mildly interested. The younger one still looked annoyed. "Want some?" I asked Miss Lemon.
"No," she said. "Where are you getting down?" I asked.
"Don't know."
"Why does your sister look upset?'
"Ask her."
I was in a genial mood, so I turned towards the child and asked her in my best babyvoice if she wanted some chips. She merely screwed up her face even more and refused to look at me.
"Where are your parents?" I asked.
"Not here," said Miss Lemon.
"Your sister could act in The Omen, she looks grumpy enough to suit the part to a tee!" I chuckled.
Lemon and Omen together scowled at me and I decided not to bother them any more. I let out a world-weary sigh and settled down with my Harry Potter book. I had read the book around a million times, but I liked reading some parts again and again, especially the ones about Quidditch.
