Stuck on a train with Dave Gravy

Huge cock-up with my train reservation to Edinburgh.

Instead of 1st class forward facing my idiot gay PA Anthony has only gone and accidentally booked me a 4-seat (with table) in cattle class...

As a result I have a very gormless, unattractive American couple in their 40s sitting opposite me, gawping at everything I do. Very unnerving. Strewn across the table is enough M&S snack food for them to survive a cold harsh winter in Belgrade.

When I whip out the Blackberry to fire off a few emails, they exchange looks as if I'd just pulled out my Little Piranha and started waving it around.

To make matters even worse, I'm sure the nauseating Dave Gravy is sitting in the next row in front of me. I can hear his grating scouse accent on the phone banging on to some lackie about "wanting more emotion from the daughter" and needing to "push fucking hard for her big breakdown moment this weekend".

I'm flabbergasted that Gravy is still up to his old tricks. Has this man not seen Channel 4's new Trust Guidelines?

To make sure The Lazy Cunt doesn't see me (and God forbid start up a conversation) I have slunk down in my seat as far as I can without slipping off.

But it's too late.

"Hi TVC! Didn't see you there! I'm going to the bar, do you fancy sharing a couple of tins of Tennants?"

I give a polite shake of the head, and flash a weak smile.

Christ. How many more hours till we get to this 'Scotland' place, please???