Amy and I were heading to the South of France during a hot August summer. Most of the people of Paris know to escape the city's heat during August and head north to cool, comfortable climates. We went south to see friends and spend some time in the places we enjoy. We don't mind the heat and feel comfortable on the Riviera at any time of year. Maybe it helps that we stay very fit and enjoy summer clothes.
We took the Blue Train from Paris to Cannes, arriving at the station at 10pm. The Blue train is famous for the romantic appeal; escaping Paris at night, flying through the French countryside towards the Cote de Azur, filled with lovers and new liaisons fueled by intimate company, brilliant food and exceptional wine. The conductors know to carry corkscrews on their key chains and to discretely close an errant curtain.
This night we had a 1st class compartment all to ourselves, a stroke of luck. We started to unpack an overnight picnic of cheeses, bread, some meats and a bottle of red wine our wine shop recommended. Waiting for the train to leave the station, we made ourselves quite at home changing into evening wear; Amy into a red silk robe and pants picked up in Hong Kong, me into my cotton surfer-pants and a loose thin sweater. We expected a quiet, romantic night as we sped towards Cannes.
As the train started moving from the station, we spotted a group of college-age kids running headlong down the quai trying to catch it. One of them jumped aboard and I could not help but to notice she was an athletic beauty. The others were hurrying, trying to catch a handhold when one fell, causing the rest of the group to fall into a heap. They could not sort themselves out in time and watched helplessly as the train left the station.
Amy and I were discussing the poor luck of these kids when we heard a commotion in the passageway. I went out of our compartment to see the same young woman in animated conversation in French with the conductor. He seemed to be demanding something that she could not produce; I had to assume she was without a ticket. I approached them and asked if I could be of help.
The conductor turned to me. "She does not have a ticket, and must leave at the next station. I am very sorry to have disturbed you, monsieur," he said.
The girl – a startling young woman indeed – turned to me and said in perfect English, "My ticket is with my friends, who fell at the station and could not catch the train."
"A lie! Just another gypsy trying to steal a free ride!" he spat.
"She is telling the truth," I offered. "We saw her friends racing for the train and they fell together."
The conductor changed his attitude immediately, but was in a bind. "I understand, but pardon," he flustered. "I cannot allow her to continue on without a ticket and an assigned compartment."
"She can stay with us." The voice came from behind me and startled the three of us. Amy had come out of our compartment and apparently heard the dilemma. She looked at me directly.
"Pay for her ticket, dear," She said. "We'll make room for her." With that, she spun and went back to our compartment.
I looked at the conductor, he looked at me, we shrugged; very well. I retrieved my wallet, pulled out a sum of Euros and delivered them over. He accepted them gratefully and even carried the girl's bag for her down the passage.
We bundled into the small compartment and settled the girl onto a seat. She thanked us and introduced herself as Marie-Helene. She was very grateful but a little anxious. Amy handed her a glass of wine and asked her to tell us her story.
Marie-Helene was 19, French, traveling with a group of friends during school break. They had decided at the last minute to make a run to the south coast and had misread the train schedule, causing them to bolt through the station and miss the train. Or nearly miss the train. Marie's cell phone lit up while she was talking, and she interrupted her story to answer it.
I took the moment to study this young woman. She was young, intensely beautiful. Her light coloring, blond hair and hazel eyes accented a classically beautiful face; high cheekbones, slender nose, full lips, even white teeth. Her hair flowed easily across her shoulders and her skin was flawless. I could not help but follow the lines of her neck down to her shoulders, her arms, and her breasts, covered by a sheer white cotton top with a white sports bra underneath. Her body was athletic, breasts small; she looked to be a swimmer or runner. I had an odd feeling and looked quickly over; Amy had been watching me. Our eyes locked for a moment, something was twinkling in those blue eyes of hers.
Marie began to sound concerned on the phone. She looked up at us. "Simone hurt her ankle. She has to stay in Paris and have it looked at. The others are not sure what to do. They have my bag with my tickets, my money." She looked at us, needing some guidance. Amy was the first to answer.
"No need to worry, Marie." Amy went over and sat next to Marie. "We will take care of you in Cannes."
The way Amy said it and then looked over at me made me wonder; something I could not put my finger on. What was on her mind? This girl was a total stranger. Were we now to take her under our wing?
They began to discuss Cannes and things to do there. I withdrew and returned to setting out the picnic dinner we had brought, now for three. The girls graciously accepted the bread and cheese and I refilled all our glasses as lights flashed by the window and the train continued through the countryside south of Paris.
Marie became bright and cheerful, excellent company. They chatted about Cannes, clothes, food, the beaches, the clubs. I was entertained just watching these two in my compartment and joined in happily. Soon, as travelers do, we felt as though we were friends and could trust her. Marie said she would accept our invitation in Cannes, as we had a suite reserved there in a marvelous hotel. That the sleeping arrangements were never mentioned pleased me somehow.
Amy was acting like there was something on her mind. She was looking at me often, looking at Marie, then me again. I could not piece it together and figured it would come out later if she wished. The opportunity came when Marie excused herself for a moment. Amy came over to my side, snuggling into me.
