ARE you sitting comfortably? Then I'll begin. Only people of a certain age, of course, will remember Listen With Mother, when small children sat entranced by the voice of Daphne Oxenford, as she told a story, and mothers either dashed round and did their housework or slurped gin in peace and quiet in the kitchen.

But there is something magical about being read to. Music may have charms to soothe the savage breast, but a story makes you listen. When ancient men gathered round the fire, I bet it was listening to some old man telling a story that made them forget about the wolves howling in the dark beyond the firelight.

I have driven miles listening to story tapes. Engrossed in Samuel Pepys' description of the Great Fire of London one day, I was astonished to find myself in Sainsbury's car park in 2001 with the sun shining. An insomniac friend always listens to story tapes in the small hours of the morning. "At that time of day, a human voice telling a story is deeply reassuring, even if it's coming from a machine," she says. And now, in something called the Commuter Calming Scheme, harrassed passengers on the Docklands Light Railway are having stories read to them. OK, perhaps the choice of a murder plot on the first day was a bit unfortunate, putting ideas into people's minds, but the scheme has possibilities.

I don't know how the Docklands scheme works, but it would be lovely if every station, queue or waiting room had a story tree. You see these in children's museums. When you sit on the seat under the branches of a large artificial tree, it starts telling you a story. The voice seems to filter through the leaves. The story lasts for a maximum of four minutes and the effect is magical.

That's what we need on railway stations when the 8.18 is late. Again. "We apologise for the late running of this train because of leaves/snow/conkers on the line. In the meantime, the Senior Conductor is here to tell you a story."

If it were a really good plot, you'd happily miss the 9.18 as well.

Published: 20/06/2001