JUST HOW LUCKY CAN YOU GET.

A tale of foolishness, deepest gloom and incredible luck.

Many of you will know that following our son's spinal surgery we have been spending a number of days each week staying in his house 75 miles from home. Mrs.K has borne most of the burden of taking son for medical appointments and looking after grandchildren. But Knottman has stayed down there to give moral support.

Today the generous Mrs. K. Insisted I should travel back to Arnside by train so that I could go to a village meeting tomorrow morning. She will come home by car tomorrow afternoon.

So I was duly dropped off at the station at Manchester Airport to get the direct train from there to Arnside.

Ten minutes into the journey I reached for my phone in order to make the classic call to say "I am on the train dear and we have just passed Salford". Oh no. My iPhone 6 is not in my pocket or indeed in any other pocket or bag. Catastrophe. I have been robbed or I have left it somewhere. I know I had it in the station because an alarm went off to tell me it was time to take a pill. There is no wi-fi on the train so I cannot use the feature "Find my iPhone" or remotely turn it off".

Deepest gloom descends on Knottman. What an idiot. What will she say? Will I ever be let out on my own again? Despair.

Then at Bolton the miracle happens. The ticket inspector comes down the train. He looks at my senior railcard which has my name on it. " Ah Mr. K. You lost your phone at the station and someone handed it in. Your wife is on her way to collect it".

Suddenly the sun came out from behind the clouds and it became a lovely summer day.

Apparently Mrs. K had phoned me to ask "are you safely on the train dear" and her call had been answered by the ticket office.

Can't believe my luck.

Huge thanks to honest person who handed it in and to the railway staff who even phoned the train guard so that he could find me on the train and lift my deep depression.

So here I am alone at home. How can I celebrate? It would not do to open a bottle with just me here.

And after 53 years of happy marriage I am not going to invite one of my village lady friends round for a candlelit supper.

I shall just have to turn all the lights out and play a Mahler symphony at high volume.

Oh and I shall write to Trans Pennine Express.