JULIE PROVED AN affable companion for Harry and they wasted little time in getting a cab away from the airport. But Harry had questions he needed answers to. Where was Sara, is she alright, who the hell were those two men following us, and who the hell are you?
"I know you are probably wondering what is going on. Well, Sara is meeting up with us in Bern. She was going to meet us here, but it isn't safe anymore. We should keep moving."
"Who are you, and why should I take your word for anything? How can I believe you are who you say you are with only a note? You could have forged her handwriting. I'm not even sure it is her handwriting."
"They will try anything to get you away from here. They are the same people you almost met in Costa Rica and you escaped them pretty handily there."
"You could know that because you are one of them," he said.
"Sara said you'd be skeptical." she blushed and said, "You are circumcised."
Harry blushed at her embarrassment. "Who isn't?"
"She only knows that because she walked in on you and Consuela fucking each other on the veranda of your suite."
He was sure of her now. "I need new clothes," he said. "All I have is this duffle-bag."
"What do you have?"
"A toothbrush, deodorant, and some cash." He anticipated her next question before she could ask, "Enough money to get me to Bern."
"Then we should worry about that first, and make our way to the train station, since flying is out of the question."
The train was leaving in two hours and they had time to eat something light. Harry booked a first class double sleeper and that was fine with Julie. She put her things down and checked out the room and was surprised it had a private bathroom, shower included.
"I never heard of a shower on a train before," she was about to say as she came back into the room but found Harry fast asleep on the bed. Curious and thorough, she silently searched his bag gently moving things out of the way, and found just what he said he had, except she found the gold ring with the black onyx serpent headed snakes wrapped around two blue pearls.
"Enough to get him by?"
She put everything back the way she found it and stepped out into the hall and walked to the front of the train. When she returned, she took advantage of the shower and took off her clothing, folding it neatly and placed it on the table as she stepped inside the small shower.
Harry heard rustling, someone was moving in the cabin. He pried open one eye and saw her drying herself off with a towel. In such close quarters, her smooth white flesh stood precariously close to his face as she bent over to dry her feet. His first instinct was to reach out and touch her. Her skin had turned red from the hot water, and tiny droplets slid down the nape of her round pink buttocks.
"Water hot?"
She jumped up and turned around and in one smooth motion wrapped the towel around her naked body blushing even more. "Never again will I take your heavy breathing to mean you are sleeping."
"We never slept together, you know."
"She never mentioned that. I just assumed you had."
Tired of this banter, he didn't respond. It was none of her business anyway. She had already proved who she was. "What time is it?" he said. "I'm starving."
"It'll be morning soon. Close your eyes and I'll finish and then you can shower."
Harry didn't feel the need to take one just yet and preferred to wait until after he ate. "No thanks, not just yet."
"Oh, I have to insist Harry, please."
"Meaning I'm in need, badly? Or do you want to confirm my ID?"
"It's more for me that you need the shower. We should be in Luxembourg before mid-morning, and it'd be nice to have someone clean to travel with."
He closed his eyes as a gentleman, but could not lose the image of the tiny water droplets dripping down her flesh.
"Okay," she said, "I'm finished." And he opened his eyes only to see her sitting on a chair looking at him with a subtle smile, more in her eyes than her lips. He stood and waited for her to turn around, but she wouldn't. "You cheated first," she said.
Harry tried to keep to himself, think of the complications of getting involved with this one. It can wait, he thought, and so he stepped into the bathroom to undress and found it almost impossible to maneuver. The air was still hot and damp. He decided it wasn't worth the effort of virtue, that they had been through enough already and changing in front of her didn't constitute a declaration of a sexual offer. He opened the door and poured himself out into the cabin.
She was gone. Chicken. Maybe she wasn't interested after all? Maybe he had heard all the wrong things about stewardesses? He sat in the chair and took off his clothes. He took notice of something black hidden in the folds of the blanket. It was his wallet, and he wondered how it had gotten there, out of his bag where he clearly put it. He supposed she had every right to be curious about him, he was about her. Her bag was on the floor under the dresser, and he pulled it out, opened it and searched through it careful not to disturb things too much. There was something hard near the bottom of the wide open bag. It was wrapped in a kerchief, and he undid the string. He discovered a small caliber hand gun.
He put it back in the bag, closed the lid, and set it back under the dresser. He stepped into the shower. It felt good and he was surprised at how much hot water there was, so he stayed in until it turned cold. With only a towel he stepped into the cabin and she was lying in the bed under the fine linen sheet. She must have spent time preparing for him and he appreciated every minute of her effort.
There was something about making love on a train; it added a vibration, a rhythm, and a sense of naughtiness to it. He would ask her later about the mile-high club, but for now he enjoyed the ride. She had a skill he'd only seen in the very hungry, a skill that trumped any professional he'd been with, an adroitness heightened by the small space they shared. They both wasted the shower, and had long since thrown off the covers, and cracked the widow despite the cold air.
They lay close together and finally took a moment to relax. Harry reached for a cigarette and lit one for each of them.
"Is it morning yet?" she asked.
"Somewhere."
"No shit Sherlock," and she reached down and began to fondle him.
"It must be true what they say about stewardesses."
"That we're cheap and easy?"
"I wasn't going to put it quite like that, but yeah."
"Don't believe any of it Harry Thursday. We make some of the best wives and mothers."
"Oh I don't know," he said. "My father said there are certain kinds of women you just don't marry. I didn't understand at the time, I was only ten."
"Was he referring to stewardesses? Cause I'll have to get back to you on that point if I ever find one who gets married."
He was asleep before she finished her sentence.