One of my fiction ‘shorts’ from way back.
The Rainbow Girl 1200 words.
by John Mathewson.
I stood by the door of the tube train, idly watching as The Rainbow Girl eased her way through the crowds towards me. She distracted me from being many feet underground, crammed in a metal tube, and fighting my claustrophobia.
You may wonder why I didn’t stay on the surface and catch the bus. The plain truth is London - like all big cities - terrifies me anyway. The Tube, although a different kind of terror if I let it take hold, could take me straight from Waterloo to my destination without needing to make any changes. I only make the trip once or sometimes twice a year and the thirty minute dash through the bowels of London was just about bearable.
The Rainbow Girl was wearing a bright red and yellow jumper, and a purple knitted hat over long black hair. I couldn’t see what she was wearing on her lower half, the crowd was too densely packed, but she offered a valuable distraction and I watched with interest as she worked her way along the carriage towards the door where I was hanging on and fighting the newcomers attempts to push me deeper into the carriage. Buffeted and trodden on, but it allows a quick escape at any station if the panic overwhelms me.
After three stops a few dozen people had got out, but several dozen more had forced their way into the already packed carriage… My pulse was starting to race and the walls were starting to pulse in and out like the intestines of some large creature. I was definitely getting out at the next stop, and continuing when I’d calmed down a bit.
“Do you hate it too?” The press of people had swirled The Rainbow Girl into close proximity and I could see she wore a bright green skirt. Still couldn’t see her legs though, which was a disappointment, because of the crowd.
“I hate the crush”, she continued, moving closer and stretched up to hang onto the same strap, her sparkly brown eyes looking up into mine with obvious sympathy. “That’s why I have to be by a door too.”
Caught in her gaze and a gentle cloud of some light flowery perfume I stayed on, and being a gentleman let her have the loop whilst I held on higher up, our hands not quite touching. Her long slender fingers, with short but neat nails, were devoid of any rings. No other clues there then…
Two more stops passed as we swapped names and potted life stories to distract us from our common fear. Rosie told me she was an artist - which I believed, although not perhaps as she intended. In return she discovered I was a writer - which was at least partially true - and a Country Boy visiting the Big City.
“I’m here to see my literary agent.” A sleek and efficient middle-aged lady who took fifteen percent off everything I earned but did such a good job of selling my popular series of crime novels I never felt the loss.
The train lurched and threw Rosie against me. She grabbed with both hands to keep her balance and somehow forgot to let go when the moment was over. I didn’t mind at all, it took my mind off things. But I wrapped one arm casually around her shoulders to test a theory and - after a momentary stiffening - felt her relax and snuggle closer.“Thankyou.” She flashed me a mischievous grin and bumped herself against my groin. It was definitely deliberate, not just the wishful thinking of a middle-aged man.
Here we go, I thought, deciding to just go with the flow.
Her hands crept up to just below my shoulders and began to lightly knead my muscles as if it was entirely involuntary. She bumped against me a couple more times, shamelessly deliberate this time, and I bumped back, smiling down at her. A nearby strap-hanger tutted loudly and pointedly looked away.
I could feel her heat against my undeniable and growing arousal and seriously wondered if I could hold out for the remaining four stops until I reached my destination. Rosie was looking up, her eyes half closed, that sleepy-eyed but inwardly fully alert look of a woman lost in her own pleasures.
Over the next two stops the crowds thinned slightly, but she made no effort to move away. Nearby strap hangers distanced themselves with the empty-eyed withdrawal of the English ignoring other people’s inappropriate behaviour.
“Two stops to go.” She murmured, and her right hand slid around and between us and I knew the moment was close. Her eyes were almost closed as her fingers went about their business…
The languor left her eyes as the lids flew up with an almost audible snap.
“Bastard!” She said softly, but still smiling for any watchers nearby as I caught her other hand and carried it around to the front, still holding my wallet.
“Good try, Rainbow Girl.” I said quietly. “Now, let’s avoid any unpleasantness, shall we?”
She looked at me warily but relaxed. After all, there was nowhere to run until the next station.
“Open it and have a look.” I invited her.
Puzzled, but rapidly recovering, she opened the wallet and laughed out loud as she found my warrant card staring up at her. She closed it and cheerfully tucked it back into my pocket with a resigned grin.
“What now then, Detective Inspector Richards? Handcuffs and an undignified walk to the entrance where you can summon a uniform to take me in?”
“Not necessary. I’m off my own turf and off duty. And it’s not as though you dipped anyone else while I was watching.”
“Oh, I see…” There was surprisingly real scorn in her voice. “So it’s a cheap hourly room somewhere where you can climb all over me for a while in return for letting me go?”
“Nothing like that. Believe me, it was a pleasure to meet a real artist at work. But just satisfy my professional curiosity… Is the costume all reversible?”
Her unrepentant chuckle turned a few heads. “Yes, to an instantly forgettable beige.”
“Thought so. No, I’ll just use you in a story some day.”
“Seriously?” She clearly wanted to believe, but her eyes were still wary.
“Seriously.”
“I’d like to believe that…” She spoke softly, reaching up and putting both arms around my neck, hands well clear of wallet or anything else she could ‘dip’, as the train slowed. “So here’s just a little something to remember me by…”
With velvet artistry and smiling eyes she gave me one of the most unexpected and amazing kisses I’ve ever had. Lips, teeth, tongue, all used to wicked effect. The effect was truly breathtaking. As the doors hissed open she released me and stepped off onto the platform.
Still breathless I hung from my strap and she waved as the train pulled out.
Through watery eyes I finally saw her legs as the train took me away. Beautiful, and every bit as professional as her fingers. The knee in my groin which had guaranteed her escape had taken me entirely by surprise.
Oh yes, I’ll always remember The Rainbow Girl.
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