On the rails

I travelled home on this train today, determined not to miss the daily 'blip'. I've been staying with my godson, trying to help him get ready to leave home for university.

He's a very sociable chap, a rugby player. He's never, ever been friendless but fear of loneliness has paralyzed him. I've had to sense his mood - grunting youth, terrified five year old, love's sick young dream and almost, so frustratingly nearly, adult.

'In our day, there were no mobile phones, only a payphone or two between a hundred people. No Facebook, MSN, etc, etc, but we survived,' we said.

He's not convinced and in a way, I'm glad. Technology has made him some acquaintances. It's put photo-faces to prospective friends, the university rugby squad, and students in his hall of residence. But technology never quite replicates the tentative steps and unlaundered spontaneity of people sizing each other up in solid locations and in view of each other's tears and smiles.

So today, we took his pile of papers and got organized. Internet transactions procured a bus card, an NUS card and a wristband for Freshers' Week. He's committed, the money's paid. No going back now. The more he accomplished, the more he surfaced from his torpor. Washer on, shopping lists lengthened, hope peeping out.

His mum and dad have been doing everything right, so I make no claims for my involvement - I happened to be free. I'm glad that at 18 he still wants me around and even gladder that he's back on track for Saturday.

I wonder whether he'll have any memory of this week by Monday!