I smiled back at her. “I don’t really know,” I said.  “I like men but I also like girls, is that ok?”  She smiled at me and we both smiled at each other, the foolish silly smiles of two people discovering they like each other.

“Oh yes, you do.  Everything about you excites me.  Your voice, your lovely hair, your sense of humour… your body.”  The last she said looking at me coyly from beneath her eyelashes, having dropped her eyes from mine briefly.  I leaned across towards her and kissed her lightly on her soft unpainted lips.  Her eyes jerked open wide and then closed slightly as she relaxed into the kiss.  A man sat in the seats across the aisle from us was looking at us so I broke off from kissing her and whispered into her ear, “That guy is watching us.”  In a way I was worried she would say what the hell and want to go on kissing and then also in part I was worried she wouldn’t.  Instead she looked over her shoulder at him and then simply leant in towards me, leaning up against me and resting her head against mine.  We pulled our coats up close under our chins and our hands found each other and held on fast.  We sat like this for quite a while, I spent my time marvelling at my good fortune and enjoying the smell of her hair, the smoothness of her skin against my cheek and the warmth of her body against mine under our coats.  Outside the poorer areas of Barcelona flashed by in a blur of graffiti and concrete, the rain still kept falling.

Our silent communing was interrupted by the ticket inspector who came through the door at the end of the carriage.  Sylvia rummaged in her pocket and found her ticket and then continued searching as he came up to us, “I am sorry,” she blustered, “I had both our tickets here, it has to be here somewhere.” 

He waited patiently and then stopped her searching with a gesture. “Don’t worry, I’ll be back later on, I am sure you will have found it by then.”  He moved on.  I was impressed with her quick thinking but still wondered what we were going to do when he came back later on. 

I pushed my coat down into my lap, as the carriage was getting warmer now.  I peeled off my jacket and bundled it up at my feet on the floor.  Sylvia was looking at me as I did this. My shirt was simple cotton, quite fine and I suppose slightly transparent, in keeping with my “hippy” image I had no bra on.  She reached across and pulled my coat back up to under my chin pulling me against her under it.  This time, instead of reaching for my hand under the coat, I felt her place her hand on my stomach.  Her hand felt hot to me, her touch electric.  Her cheek was against mine again and she turned slightly. “Don’t move,” she said to me.  I was wondering what she meant when