Why I Like Travelling By Train

WILTBT Part 3

For most of the journey, I rested my head back on the seat and stared out of the window. I saw, but didn't really register, the outskirts of the city where Kat lived; the houses giving way to fields and woods; the rolling countryside; fields of wheat; a river; a kestrel hovering.

The warm glow of having been spending time with Kat mingled with memories of a happy few days spent walking and relaxing. I wondered idly if she liked walking, and an image floated unbidden across my mind of the two of us holding hands as we strolled through the woods near my hotel. She'd asked me about my holiday over lunch, and had said it all sounded very nice. Very deliberately, I let myself imagine us on holiday together, returning from a walk, the feel of her warm hand in mine - dropping hands as we get near civilisation again and head back to the room. I imagined us having dinner in the restaurant area then going for a drink. I turned my back on the rest of the carriage and slid my hands between my clamped thighs as I imagined us heading back to our room and kissing – kissing standing up behind the door as I lock it, kissing again after she's drawn the curtains, and again as our hands begin to wander and we move towards the bed; I imagined in vivid and very careful detail each little touch and stroke of undressing each other, and each shuddering thrill of kissing again as we settle back into the bed, our naked bodies entwining as we slide under the covers...

The carriage door slid open and the guard called out for all tickets.

Flushed and distracted, I fumbled in my pocket and swallowed hard while I tired to calm my racing pulse. Daydreaming was something I did quite a lot, and it was always good to daydream about a nice girl, but the intensity of that particular little fantasy had been breathtaking. I brushed my hair away from my face and avoided the guard's eye as I held out my tickets and railcard. The guard smiled as he made to move on, and confirmed I needed to change at the next stop. I wondered if I looked as abandoned as I felt.

Taking my phone out, I contemplated texting Kat – what would I say? 'Hi, on the train and fantasising about you already?' Maybe not.

Even so, I rested the phone on my leg (in case she messaged me) and went back to looking out of the window.

She'd said she was going to spend the afternoon in the university library, but when I'd asked what she was studying, she'd made me guess. The Philosophy part hadn't surprised me, but she'd had to tell me about the Theology.

'Not that I believe.' She'd waved her fork lightly. 'I just find it interesting.'

'I was brought up to go to church, but I don't go now. I used to be in the choir. I can sort of see it might be interesting to study properly, though.'

'Oh, it is. I'm thinking of doing postgrad work in it next year. Actually,' she'd said, tipping a few more dollops of mayonnaise over her pub lunch chips, 'that's why I couldn't talk the other day. Sorry about that. But I was just going in to see the tutor for some advice.'

'That's ok. When you messaged me I was in a lovely old bookshop, and the little old man at the counter frowned at me when my phone beeped.'

She'd giggled. 'Well, you can see his point. It is sacrilegious to have a beeping phone in a second-hand bookshop. I'd have frowned at you too.'

'Yeah? I'm sorry.' I'd blushed a little.

She'd moved her foot against mine under the table and touched my knee with hers. On the table, she'd touched her fingers to the back of my hand. 'Only briefly. I'd have been drinking you in with my eyes and smiling at you shyly most of the time, hoping you'd notice me.'

I'd grinned back at her. 'Oh, I think I'd have noticed you, definitely. I'd have spent the whole time checking you out over the top of a book, probably.'