Wan, late-morning light sifted through the train compartment window. Fay looked across Gwen at the window, scenery obliterated by the soft sunshine on the carriage glass. Gwen for her part had her head leaned against Fay’s, her arm along her shoulder. Fay felt drowsy. The orgasm at the far end of the platform some ten minutes ago had all but done her in. The gentle restful pulse of the train in motion made Fay think slumber might be possible.

A second later the compartment door creaked open. It was an older gentleman. “Is this seat taken?” he asked. Fay, aware that she wasn’t wearing panties, that her skirt was indecently short, snapped her legs together, leaving Gwen to answer the query, which she did with a simple gesture, an open hand offering the opposite bench. The man sat.