I had to explain to him why I was horrified. He asked me what was wrong, explaining he’d not worked for them long, but he’d had bad reactions before and didn’t know why. I told him about the shameful history, and then it was his turn to go a bit green. This was the 1970s, and of course there was no Google to check up on things. I was surprised that they had not changed their name. Poor lad – he had no idea. I ended up comforting him, as it was hardly his fault. We’ld made our way on, and were pretty well wedged into place near the back left corner of the trolley. The last handful of would-be passengers were wrestling their way on, and the group included a small elderly woman with the common kerchief over her hair. Three young toughs covered in tattoos arrived and had pushed in around her, when the driver decided to shut the door before people started popping out the front. The lady, unable to get on, still had an arm wedged some how, but was not aboard.