“Having a grammar school will mean fewer kids and their parents opting out of state education and choosing the private sector. I know of people in Sevenoaks who go private just because there isn't a local grammar school.”

“I felt an overwhelming desire to express my deepest admiration for the patience and tolerance of regular commuters from Wadhurst Station to London and back. Although not a daily commuter myself, I had reason to travel by rail to London over a period of several weeks. To my surprise the service was regular and without delay, together with the cheerful disposition of Alan, our local ticket administrator, my journeys would have been a pleasure, especially as I was about to enjoy my new e-book and expand my mind. However, the potential for trouble free travel was rudely interrupted by a number of inconsiderate morons with their incessant yacking on mobile phones. I was subjected to a marketing maniac's one-way conversation with his colleague Sam, discussing their client Green Co. I was informed as to how tricky Green Co could be and that Lee Elliot could also be a handful. Mr Marketing went on to explain that he and Sam needed to show a united front for the upcoming presentation. I was trying to read my e-book but found myself returning again and again to the beginning of the page, my concentration completely battered by Mr Marketing yelling at me from ten feet away. I could feel a Basil Fawlty moment coming over me. I wanted to get up and shout, "Why don't you turn the bloody loudspeaker on so that we can all hear what Sam has to say and contribute some useful feedback". Or I could have nonchalantly approached and murmered in his ear that I was an employee of Green Co and would rather that he didn't breach confidentiality in such a public manner. What a triumph this would have been. This could have been my moment of fame as the rest of the carriage heralded me as their hero or I could have been removed at the next station with a tug of my collar. But, I lost the courage and sat like everyone else sighing heavily and pretending that I couldn't hear him. I repeatedly read the sign above my head that told me that staff would not tolerate any abuse from passengers and changed it slightly to a mantra that was inclusive of fellow commuters with intolerable behaviour.

How do passengers put up with these people who tell you what they want for dinner, how many pints they had the night before and that it's his girlfriend's birthday so he is going to buy her present up in town. Ban all phone conversations on the train, you can only text, that's the answer.”