Nothing to be proud of

Was intially feeling very pleased with myself tonight for catching the 5.30pm to Chippenham, a full 30 minutes ahead of my usual schedule. Settled into my seat and watched the train fill up around me, safe in the knowledge that I'd be home half an hour earlier than usual to spend some extra time with my kids.

As the train pulled out it was now very crowded. Cue apologies over the tannoy from the train manager although there was no particular reason why the train should be such a crush. A middle-aged women with a walking stick came past me in the aisle; I'm ashamed to say I deliberately averted my gaze and was relieved to hear someone on the other side of the aisle offer her a seat. Behind me, a middle aged guy was ranting loudly into his mobile about how much he hated coming to London and how the BBC was full of weak people - or at least it had been when he worked there - who were too spineless to have confidence in their decisions. More about him later.

Then, a couple of minutes beyond Paddington, trouble. Three teenage girls struggling with suitcases came down the aisle moaning pointed about the lack of seats and saying that their pregnant mother needed to sit down and everyone was so rude for not giving their mother a seat (althugh no one could see this pregnant mother anywhere). They were very agressive, so like most of my fellow commuters I settled lower in my seat and tried to ignore their boorish antics. Lady luck was not with me, though: they plonked their cases down in the aisle next to me and sat on them, moaning and bitching as loudly as they could about the 'rubbish people' on the train with 'no manners' know-wot-I-mean, in'it.

This went on for a few more minutes - very surly, just looking for a fight - until finally the woman sitting directly across the aisle from me began to remonstrate with them. All three of them began flinging verbal insults at her. I felt hot, uncomfortable, a pulse began to beat in my temple and I could feel my heart rate speeding up in preparation for trouble. This woman had had the guts to speak up on behalf of her fellow passengers and I knew I should intervene or her behalf, knew I should give her some support, but I didn't. Instead, I reached for the headphones of my MP3 player and retreated behind a wall of sound hoping everything would just go away.

The row between the girls and the woman went on for a few more minutes and then subsided into a brooding silence. The girls played their MP3s as loudly as possible, made more loud comments and tried their best to invade everybody's body space as much as possible. Finally, about 15 minutes after we'd left Paddington, they grunted to each other and dragged their cases away towards another carriage leaving us in peace.

I relaxed, almost sighing audibly - but equally I felt dreadful. The whole scene had erupted right next to me and without a shadow of a doubt these rude, agressive girls had been totally at fault, but I'd done nothing. The one woman who'd spoken out against them had been verbally attacked and then left high and dry by me and the other passengers. Not a single word of support or a "Hey, she's right" or "Why are you being so bloody rude?". Nothing.

I thought perhaps I should speak to the woman now the girls had gone and offer an apology but I couldn't even bring myself to do that. Appalling, I know. I spent the rest of the journey deep in sombre realisation that I'd behaved like a coward. It's not a nice feeling.

The only thing that made me feel slightly better was that the man sitting behind me who'd been shouting on his phone turned out to be a well-known broadcaster and newspaper columnist, whose name I shall not reveal. He'd done nothing either.

So let me end by saying this: if you were the lady on the 5.30pm from Paddington to Taunton tonight who had the bottle to remonstrate with the three thuggish girls, good on you - and I deeply regret my failure to support you when they turned on you.