Can you type too loudly? Yes, according to the aggressive man looming over me

Misophonia – the fear of certain sounds – can affect people severely, as Christine Manby discovers when a stranger on a train jabs his finger in her face

Illustration by Tom Ford

The person who came up with the concept of the “quiet carriage” deserves some sort of medal. Even if there’s always one person who thinks the quiet carriage is the perfect place to take a loud phone call, it does at least offer the hope of a tranquil journey and the chance to get some work done. So I was disappointed to discover that I was unable to book into the quiet carriage for a three-hour train ride, during which I planned to skim-read a Second World War history book and perhaps make some notes for a novel.

But as I boarded the train, it seemed the gods were with me. I found a seat right at the end of a carriage, close to the doors. I settled in next to the window and was delighted to find as the doors closed for departure, that the seat next to me remained unoccupied. The carriage was largely empty. However, just as the whistle sounded, a man in his fifties came huffing in. He sat across the aisle from me, also in a window seat, so that there were two vacant spots between us. At least eight feet of clear space.

Like a rabbit, I clocked him in my peripheral vision in the manner of every lone woman who ever travelled on public transport. He seemed to be in a state of agitation. He swore loudly as he took his coat off. He swore as he wrestled his suitcase under the table. He swore as he looked for his phone. He swore on and off for the next hour as he checked emails, listened to voicemails, and glared out of the window at the offensive (I assume) muted greens and browns of the English countryside in winter.