An Unwelcome Fellow Traveller, by Peter Shilston

"I really hate the sea", he was saying. At least, that's what I thought he was saying, because to be perfetly honest I had long since stopped paying attention to him. When you're on a long, slow railway journey you often get chatting to complete strangers, but on occasion it proves to be a bad mistake. This was one of those occasions. He'd wittered on for ages, all about himself, and most of what he'd said was of so little interest that it had entirely washed over me, leaving no trace on my memory. 
   So I replied, "Oh really?" in my most neutral voice, trying to indicate complete lack of interest without being seriously rude. I shuffled with some papers and pretended to be reading them, hoping he'd take the hint and shut up. But that was too much to hope for.
   "The thing is", he continued, "I once had the most dreadful experience at the seaside, and it's haunted me ever since".
   (No, I thought, please don't tell me about it!)
   "In fact, it was so dreadful that I can't bear to speak about it even now".
   (Thank God for that! I told myself)
   "Have you ever felt like that?" he asked, in a tone that implied  he didn't expect me to launch into a similar experience of my own. "It can be a great relief to unburden your soul to a stranger, but somehow you can't bring yourself to do it".
   Really, this was getting intolerable. But I found myself asking, "The seaside, you say? Anywhere I would know? here or abroad?"
   "Oh, I can't travel abroad. It would mean crossing the sea in an aeroplane. I'd know I was crossing it, even though I couldn't see it. No, it was here in England".
   The train slowed down and stopped at a small station. My companion picked up his only bag and rose to his feet.
   "Well", he said, "I'm off to the sea now. I'll just have to try and conquer my fears. Look, I'm most grateful to you for all your help and advice. I've enjoyed meeting you. Goodbye!" I muttered, quite truthfully, that I hadn't done anything to help him at all. And then he was gone. I slumped backin my seat, relieved to be free of him at last.
   It was only later that I realised we were nowhere near the coast, and travelling in the wrong direction to reach it.