Bernice

A break-through of sorts.  On the tube, feeling snuffly, it is going to be dark by the time I get home.  It is Sunday, and I don't feel like approaching a stranger.  I consider walking past the pharmacist to ask for some Benylin Cold and Flu and a middle name but I don't want to.  A girl sits next to me even though there are plenty of spare seats.  She has wavy blonde hair, fur-lined boots and a padded coat.  She is reading the Independent.  There are still four stops to the end of the line.  Realising that I have not yet had a tube encounter, I make a rash deal with myself that, if she doesn't get out earlier, I will ask her at my destination.

The tube empties but she remains.  The doors open and we get out.  I steal myself and catch her up.  I worry that I will seem like a lunatic but, after a flicker of panic, she laughs and seems amenable.  'What do you do with them?' she asks.  I explain about the blog.  The name belonged to her grandmother's sister.  She died when she was 26 from throat cancer.  She was very beautiful, an actress and known as 'Bunny' for short.

We ride the escalator and she asks what the most interesting name has been.  I find it a difficult question to answer and tell her that  I quite often need people to spell them.  As we reach the top she wishes me luck and, feeling better, I go home to cook myself something with garlic.