Much to Mandy’s relief, the 4.47 PM sleeper train from Aberdeen to London, left exactly on time. The air inside the compartment felt cool, a man in unusual dress, had already made himself feel at home. With the emergency pandemic regulations in force, two people per sleeping compartment had become the new norm.
“‘Allo, may I ‘elp you with your suitcase?”
A Frenchman, Mandy thought to herself.
“Yes, I apologise, I am French,” said the man, reading her mind. “my English, it is a little shaky.”
“Oh,” Mandy was in no mood to appease, “I’m sure it will suffice. Où allez-vous voyager?” The farther she went, the more confident Mandy became.
“Oh, c’est bon! I get off at Waterloo and then en route to Paris.”
“Alright Napoleon, would you like to sleep with me? I mean ‘have sex’? In point of fact, would you like to take my virginity?”
Beginning its journey, the train pulled out of the platform, dampened vibrations creating a quickening rhythm familiar to most, as the carriage passed over each join in the tracks.
“Mademoiselle, bien sûr, I am a Frenchman after all!” The sound of a descending zip filled the space they occupied. “Mais, pourquoi, pork-you? Won’t you tell me this please?”
“Well you may have noticed, the pandemic. I am twenty-one years of age, had planned to save myself for a future husband, in the traditional, British manner. But, now, with people dying everywhere and no sight of this thing ever ending, I want to experience sex, at least once, unless you are feeling particularly energetic, before it is too late.”
“I totally understand,” he stepped clear of his breeches, “mais, my name, if you please, it is not Napoleon. Such a name to be called is slightly offensive, when used by an English girl.”
Mandy placed a finger, vertically over his lips, signalling silence. “Tough, I don’t wanna know your name. To me, you are Napoleon, take it or leave it.”
“Alright,” he replied, “then I’ll take it.”
© Brinkinfield 2020 All Rights Reserved
Part of the Ekphrasis Project (story inspired by a collage)