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Archive name: country.txt (mf-teens, nc, rp, drugs,
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Authors name: Ximenes (ximenesgreek@yahoo.cp.uk)
Story title : Country Life
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Country Life
by Ximenes (ximenesgreek@yahoo.cp.uk)
***
Three cautionary tales from small-town England. (mf-
teens, nc, rp, drugs, alcohol, v)
***
You won't find Chesil Regis on a map, but it exists, oh
it exists. The typical dysfunctional English small town.
It's on the South Coast of England, a small market town
where seagulls wheel overhead and locals fight tooth and
nail to prevent any new development happening near their
bungalows.
A place where people from the big cities come on holiday
for a fortnight in July or August. They look at our
heritage coast and they forage for fossils on the beach.
They look at our cliffs and seascapes, our green rolling
hills and old, thatched cottages.
A place where they think "this is where I'm going to
retire". And then they do move down to Chesil when they
pack up work and sell their properties at inflated
prices to yuppy wannabies.
So what's it like for the youngsters who live in Chesil
Regis?
It's dire. Low pay, seasonal employment, lack of
employment in anything except service occupations drives
them all away at eighteen. Chesil is a community of the
young, the middle aged and the retired, with a yawning
black hole in the 18-30 age range.
It's Friday night, around 11p.m. The town centre is
taken over by the teenagers. They've come in from the
villages from miles around because life in the villages
is even more boring than in town. They've come by bus,
taxi, by parents. Some will sleep over at friends'
houses; some will call taxis or phone their parents for
lifts home. Many have no strategy for getting home at
all, and will take their chances when things in Chesil
slow down late at night.
All the oldies have retreated home, to telly or dinner
parties or an early night in bed. Police presence is
minimal - a couple of special constables on foot patrol
and a car or two covering the West of the county. If
there's a big disturbance they'll have to call for
reinforcements, and these will take up to an hour to
arrive. So forget the forces of law and order.
Who am I? I am spirit. I float, invisible in the sky,
over the town. I see everything and everyone. I know all
their backgrounds, their motivation and their fears. I'm
omniscient, untouchable. I watch as the drama unfolds.
LOUISE
Look, here is Louise. Just eighteen, and out with her
new boyfriend, Keith. Keith is a university student; his
term doesn't start for another fortnight. He's been
going out with Louise for a month, and tonight is the
first time her parents have trusted them to go out
together in a car. They've had to say where they were
going, and have a strict curfew to keep.
Louise comes from a very Christian family; her father is
a lay preacher. She is attractive rather than beautiful,
but totally clean, decent and wholesome - the kind of
girl we all wish our daughters to be. She rarely drinks
and never gets drunk. But tonight she is woozy and
groggy and Keith has to support her as he takes her
towards his car to get her home. What Louise doesn't
know is that this boy she trusted, who said all the
right things to her mum when he picked her up; this boy
spiked her drink when she went to the rest room.
Now Louise is rapidly losing awareness of where she is
and what's happening to her. Which is what Keith
intends. Oh, he'll take her home eventually, but on the
way he's going to have some fun with her. Preferably
with her agreement. But he'll have his fun whatever way.
They get in the car and drive out of town, stopping in a
layby screened by trees. Keith has chosen it carefully.
But Louise is out of it: Keith has misjudged his
quantity of spike, and his mistake will save Louise's
virginity tonight. Louise's dress has a high neck, with
buttons down the front. The car stops and Keith leans
across to kiss her. She kisses back, but tells Keith she
feels sick. Keith doesn't register her protests - this
is his big moment. This is what he paid for when he
bought the spike.
Now he's totally focussed on getting intimately
acquainted with Louise's body. All she's allowed him to
do so far is cradle her breasts outside her clothes. But
Keith's an impatient boy, and her combination of
promising curves and obvious decency is a challenge he
can't resist. He fumbles to undo Louise's buttons. She
tries to stop him, but her brain is too foggy to be
forceful and in any case, deep down, she wouldn't mind
him exploring her breasts. Keith finishes with her
buttons and lifts her breasts out of her bra.
Louise is fighting back waves of nausea and waves of
blackness. Her higher levels of consciousness want Keith
to stop, because she's not enjoying herself and she's
dimly aware that they're "in public"; her more basic
consciousness wants him to carry on and make love to
her.
Keith is surprised to find her breasts slack and limp -
he knows they should be taut and firm because that's how
they were when Louise let him feel them, from outside
her clothes, as they kissed in the car on the way into
Chesil earlier that evening. Disappointed, he goes for
the big prize. Clamping his mouth over Louise's for a
deep kiss, he reaches down and lifts up the hem of her
dress.
That's the point at which Louise finally loses it and
vomits copiously all over her clothes, over Keith's
parents' car, over Keith's designer jeans and trainers.
Because Louise has always been prone to car sickness
since she was a little girl, and the alcohol, rather
than the spike, has caused her to be sick from the
motion of the car as they started driving home. Now
Louise has vomited so much she is dehydrated, and
shivering with shock.
Numbly, Keith realises that he's gone from being master
of the situation to being in serious trouble. Even
though Louise is totally helpless and vulnerable to him,
even Keith realises he's lost his chance. He needs to
get her home. Angrily he slams the car into gear and
winds through the lanes, thinking up an excuse to
explain Louise's condition to her mum and dad.
Louise will face furious parents, convinced that she'd
drunk to excess and betrayed their trust in her. Louise
will refuse to see Keith because she's convinced that
she'd shown herself up in front of him. And in a couple
of weeks Keith will go back to University and won't ever
invite Louise out again. Only weeks later will Louise
suspect that one bottle of alcopop wasn't the cause of
her disaster, and a friend will suggest the real cause.
And she'll never know how close she came to being date
raped.
BECKY
Becky is only fourteen, but is a big girl - tall, broad,
and heavily built with the body of a mature woman. She's
out on the town with her mates Charlotte and Tracey-Ann.
They're too young to be let into a pub, so they rely on
older boys to get them drink. They sit in the park, on
the swings or see-saw in the children's play area.
Becky used to live with her mum, but the rows became
constant and were upsetting her little sister. So Becky
moved into Chesil with her grand parents. They are
elderly, well-meaning people who do their best for Becky
but have no idea what she gets up to when she's out with
her friends at night. They know Becky won't come home
till well after midnight, and sometimes not at all.
Becky tells them, on these occasions, that she's slept
over at Charlotte's or Tracey's, and the grandparents
take her at her word.
The three girls like to get drunk, and trust that
between the three of them they'll always be able to look
out for each other. They always stick together and in a
fairly public place and never get into cars with boys or
go into boys' houses. That what - so far - has kept them
safe. Tonight they're all three drunk. Becky is loud and
coarse.
They're sitting on a park bench. Under the bench are
several empty lager cans. Around the bench are the four
older boys who've been buying drink from the off-
license. Only one boy is eighteen, having to show his
driving license as proof of age each time he buys more
drink because the shop owner recognises him each time he
comes to the till and suspects he's buying alcohol for
others.
Becky is wearing tight jeans and a t-shirt with a very
low scoop neck. Her bra is minimal, and when she sits
facing the boys, leaning forwards, on the park bench,
they can see virtually the whole of her breasts, like a
couple of ‚clairs in lacy baking cases.
If the boys close in for a grope, the girls are usually
nimble at wriggling out of their reach and re-grouping.
But this time the boys have done some planning and got
themselves a strategy. And this time Becky stumbles on a
lager can as she gets up to move, and falls at one of
the boys' feet. Seeing his chance, he reaches down and
lifts her tits out of her top, squeezing them and
yelling to his mates as he pulls her to her feet by her
melons.
Becky is furious. She's lost face, and losing face isn't
in her game plan. She's got an anger management problem
at the best of times. She lashes out and slugs the boy
in his face - he can't protect himself in time because
he is still holding onto his prizes.
He turns away under more blows and a barrage of foul
language loud enough to be heard through the bedroom
windows of houses adjacent to the park. (But those with
open windows have heard it all before and don't stir.
And most have closed, double-glazed windows, so there
could be full scale rape and massacre going on outside
their manicured gardens and they'd never know).
Becky stumbles away from the boy, stuffing her tits back
into her top as best she can. He pursues her, cheered on
by his mates. He's lost face through being hit by a girl
(he's so used to the bad language it doesn't register
with him). He catches up with Becky, takes her from
behind round her waist and pushes her tits out again.
Becky is really angry now, but realises she isn't strong
enough to fight him off indefinitely. His mates have
come between her and Charlotte and Tracey, so that
Becky's mates can't reach her to help her. That was the
boys' strategy, and it's working fine.
Becky instinctively goes for her back-up plan: to make
for a short path, which comes out in Chesil's High
Street. Here there will be lights and probably people
too, and she will be able to seek safety and re-group.
This sort of problem has happened to her many times
before, but somehow this particular boy doesn't seem
right, and she's genuinely worried as well as absolutely
furious with him.
She kicks backwards, aiming for his groin. She misses,
but hits his leg hard enough for him to wince and for
her to get free. As she stuffs her top back into its tee
shirt she swears non stop at the top of her voice and
goes to kick him again. Bad mistake. He grabs her from
the ground in a rugby tackle and brings her down.
Pinning her down under his weight, he struggles to lift
her t-shirt off.
Becky is now really frightened. If he succeeds in
pinning her down he'll take her, and she doesn't want
that. Despite all appearances she is still a virgin
(well, just about), and above all she knows that when
she's fucked she wants it to be on her terms. And it's
not in the park, in public, on a chilly night, with her
mates watching and a trio of mindless idiots gawping at
her pubes.
At last she manages to throw him off, and a lucky kick
finds his stomach. Her t-shirt is still on, but bunched
around her armpits. Her bra strap has broken in the
tussle, and trails behind her. So far she's been lucky.
She runs as fast as she can through the cut towards the
High Street.
Behind her she can hear Charlotte and Tracey telling her
to get away, and the other boys jeering at her
assailant. He is back on his feet and coming after her.
Her tits are swinging wildly as she runs; it is
uncomfortable and he's gaining on her fast.
She runs out into the High Street and aims for the
brightly lit launderette across the road. She is too
panicked to look for traffic, and four paces into the
road she collides with Dora who is in her car, on her
way home from a play rehearsal in Chesil's Arts Centre.
Becky is lifted up onto the cars bonnet; her arm breaks
as it takes her full weight against the windscreen,
shattering the screen before Becky drops in a heap onto
the cold tarmac.
After the sickening thump, there's the squeal of brakes
and then a silence. The boy turns tail and flees. He's
breaking his probation order by being anywhere near
Chesil, and the last thing he wants is to face the
police. He's not in the slightest concerned about Becky.
She's not his problem.
The other boys get away as fast as they can, too.
Charlotte and Tracey reach the scene of the accident
just as Dora, shaky, ashen faced and close to hysteria,
nerves herself to open her car door and see what damage
she has caused. Becky is alive, bloody, concussed. Her
arm is badly broken and the shock of the impact is just
fading into pain.
She has landed on her back. Her t-shirt is still bunched
above her breasts, which loll around in full view as she
writes in pain. Instinctively, Dora bends down to cover
her up. She is even more in shock herself at the thought
of an impact so severe it has ripped the clothes off a
young girl.
Becky's fuddled mind registers the touch of another hand
on her, but not that her tits are being covered up. She
thinks it's the boy on top of her again. She thinks he's
lifting off her top before he yanks her jeans down
and... She lashes out with her good arm and swears
disgustingly at the figure looming above her. Dora
recoils, bursts into tears, appalled and terrified at
such foulness coming from someone so young. Dora is on
the verge of collapsing.
Tracey dials a 999 on her mobile; she's so shaky that it
takes her two goes to get it right. It takes ten minutes
for the police to arrive and twenty for an ambulance.
Becky is fading into and out of consciousness. Other
teenagers, hearing the screech of brakes, run to see
what has happened. They stand around, jeer at Becky or
sympathise with her, and jibe at the police and
ambulance men.
Someone starts a rumour that she tried to flash her tits
at a car driver, and the driver drove into her in
revenge. The rumour is all round the young people in
town within fifteen minutes, and will stick with Becky
for as long as she lives in Chesil.
Becky will recover, but she won't learn. She's back the
following Friday night with her arm in plaster. Drinking
just as much as before, but more covered up in the way
she dresses. The boys give Chesil a miss for a couple of
months until they think everyone's forgotten. Most have,
but Becky keeps grudges and there's definitely a score
to settle for her.
TINA
While all the drama above has been going on, Tina has
been inside a pub. She's only 15, and the publican knows
it. But Tina's parents run a bar-cum-restaurant in a
village out of town, and all the publicans in the area
know each other and their families. Tina is given
special dispensation by the publican to be in the bar.
It's illegal, but what the police don't know won't do
them any harm. And the publican reckons she's probably
as safe in his bar as she is outside of it.
'Cos Tina's parents work long hours, every evening, in
their bar. And that's the problem. Tina is a very
disturbed girl. She craves attention and doesn't get it.
She cuts her arms, but her parents are too busy trying
to make the business pay to have time to spend with her.
They love her, but are simply too busy to give her much
time.
There are a couple of relatives and close family friends
living in Chesil, and Tina quite often stays over at
their places - to the extent that her parents are often
not sure where she is. Each parent assumes Tina has told
the other where she's staying tonight. Tina has more
freedom than she wants, more than she can cope with.
Tina is an alpha female. The other girls are afraid of
her. They either totally avoid her, or seek to
ingratiate themselves with her. Tonight she's with Kelly
and Katie in the pub. Kelly is fifteen. She's out of the
house, away from mum and mum's new boyfriend.
Mum had Kelly at sixteen; now she's thirty and afraid of
being middle aged. She's always smoked dope, but the new
boyfriend is on to much stronger stuff. Kelly's mum
hasn't had a man living with her for a year or so, and
is desperate not to lose him. Kelly's well into the
Chesil drugs scene herself. The dope and coke at home
doesn't bother her. No, it's the sex that gets to her.
The sound of her own mum - her fucking mother, for God's
sake - having orgasms evening and morning through the
thin walls of their flat.
And last weekend the boyfriend pushed Kelly against the
wall as they passed on the stairs. Groped her tits
thoroughly as he passed. Mum was in the kitchen. Nothing
was said, but Kelly knew the prick was sizing her up and
trying to make up his mind whether to abandon the mother
and go for the daughter. Kelly has never known a dad.
Her mum is the only little bit of stability she has. If
this prick tries to drive a wedge between them she'll go
for him. She carries a wicked, sharp little knife in her
bag, specially for him if he tries again.
Katie's parents separated a couple of years ago, and
it's been hard for her mum. There's a younger brother,
who adores his big sister. Katie's mum works hard to
earn a decent wage (and is at the other end of the
spectrum from Kelly's mum, who lives on handouts, a bit
of dealing and the occasional shoplifting and reckons
ordinary jobs are for morons).
She keeps the house spotless. Katie was a model child
until she hit puberty and wanted to be one of the cool
crowd. Unfortunately, the coolest person living close to
her and in her class at school was Kelly. Now Katie is
rude and rebellious, obnoxious to her bewildered little
brother, and getting into big trouble at school. She
left her mum in tears as she flounced out of the house
this evening, slamming the door.
But it's Tina who is the victim in this story. She hates
everyone in authority. She hates all rules and breaks
them as a matter of principle. Whatever Kelly and Katie
do, Tina will go further. She's not really into boys.
Boys are trouble. They want things from her. But she
lives for what she can get from others.
The girls are sitting on a sofa in the darkened video
lounge at the rear of the pub. It's hot and smoky, with
the pungent scent of spliffs mixing with the acid smell
of beer. The girls are drinking Cokes, but both Tina and
Kelly have got half bottles of vodka from home and have
been adding them to their drinks. Katie's had plenty,
too, but not as much as the others.
By ten o'clock all three are drunk, but the warmth and
comfort of the lounge lulls them into a false sense of
security. Then a bloke Tina knows sidles up and whispers
into her ear. Money changes hands, quite openly, and
Tina has a white tablet in her mouth.
It's Ketamine. It's a veterinary anesthetic and very
dangerous mixed with alcohol. Tina's tried it once
before, from this same man, but when she was sober. She
doesn't know what it'll do when combined with the drink
she's had. She's not really aware of how much drink
she's had - OK, so her vodka bottle is empty, but Katie
and Kelly had a good bit of hers. And, anyway, Tina
wouldn't care if she did know the risks.
Kelly knows all about Ketamine. She knows she's got to
get Tina home, and fast. She drags Tina to her feet, and
all three girls leave by the back door of the pub. Katie
doesn't want to go; she's watching the video and doesn't
understand that Tina's in danger. So she and Kelly have
a loud and lurid argument on the street. They decide to
walk Tina to her cousin's place, because it's nearest.
Kelly hasn't a clue where Tina was due to spend tonight,
but the cousin's flat is as good as any other place.
All three girls are loudly drunk, and they attract a lot
of attention as they pass the youth club, proud to know
they're drunk and everyone can see so; getting admiring
glances from classmates at school.
Kelly and Katie don't notice that Tina's getting
quieter, and that she's much more wobbly on her feet
than they are.
But Shaun does. He's been thrown out by his partner. He
lost his temper and hit her while she was holding their
baby. She flew at him and nearly scratched his eyes out
and then pushed him out of the door. Shaun's cold,
hungry, and in a foul temper. He's sitting in his work
van, smoking, trying to find enough loose change to buy
chips before everywhere shuts. He sees the three and
thinks, nice legs (Katie), very good tits (Kelly), and I
wouldn't kick that wobbly one in the middle out of bed,
neither.
He's about to get out of the van and try his luck with
the girls when two boys, about sixteen years old,
clatter past on their skateboards and stop at the girls.
A conversation ensues.
Tyrone is a friend of Kelly's. They were sweet on each
other back at primary school and have maintained an on-
off relationship ever since. Kelly wouldn't dream of
going out with him now - with her body in peak condition
she'd go for twenty somethings with smart cars and well
filled wallets. But she's pissed off with Tina tonight.
She's got enough hassle at home and doesn't want all the
explanations to Tina's cousin about why she's in such a
state. She wants to get home and sneak into bed and lock
her door before mum's boyfriend can "accidentally" barge
in while she's changing. She trusts Tyrone, and anyway
she's got her knife. So she leaves Tina with Katie and
disappears up the leafy, well-lit avenue with Tyrone and
his harmless mate.
All this is closely noted by Shaun.
Tina and Katie are leaving the main part of the town,
into an area (Chesil's too small to have suburbs) of big
houses set down long driveways from leafy hedges.
Streetlights are few and far between. Tina is barely
able to move, and is rapidly losing consciousness. But
there is a seat on the roadside, a favourite among
elderly people who sit there at sunset and watch the
colours fade over the hills.
Katie manoeuvres Tina onto the seat. Her cousin's place
is only a few hundred yards away, but she'll need to get
the cousin to help her move Tina. There's a quick way
across a field, but Katie is frightened of crossing a
pitch dark field, and there might be horses in the field
- Katie's terrified of horses. So she takes the long way
round, following roads with streetlamps. It takes her
twice as long.
It takes a long time to persuade Tina's cousin to put
her coat and shoes on and help move the girl. The cousin
has been called to rescue Tina before, and was not
amused when she threw up over her new carpet. Why can't
her bloody parents do their job? By the time the two
women reach the seat, Tina has gone. The cousin is
angry. Katie's embarrassed. They search the hedges
around the seat in case Tina has lurched somewhere and
fallen, but there's nothing to see.
The cousin goes home, across the field. Katie feels sure
that things don't add up - how could Tina be incapable
of walking, then just disappear? Katie's had too much to
drink to think rationally. Perhaps Tina phoned on her
mobile and has been picked up? Perhaps Tina will blame
Katie for abandoning her on the seat, and there'll be
one Godalmighty row on Monday. Miserably, Katie heads
off home.
Tina, of course, is in the back of Shaun's van. She's
out cold. Shaun drove after them, quietly, and stopped
when he saw Katy put Tina on the seat. He guessed what
was happening, and saw Katie disappear up the well-lit
road. Checking time and again for onlookers, Shaun
cruised up to the seat. It took less than ten seconds to
stop, get out, go round to the back, open the door,
scoop Tina off the seat and into the van, shut the doors
and drive off.
Shaun leaves Chesil Regis behind him and heads down a
lane. He turns left down a track, and left again across
a field, down to where there are some horseboxes. The
van, dark blue, blends with the night and is invisible
from the road.
His erection is growing, but he manages a comfortable
piss in some nettles, then opens the back door of the
van and climbs in. Tina's lying in the same position he
left her; her skirt has ridden up to expose thighs still
plump with baby fat. But that's a finesse lost on Shaun.
That stupid cow back in Chesil has thrown him out, and
all he did was lose his rag. Serves the bitch right if
he shags someone else for a change.
He spreads a couple of blankets across the floor of the
van, to keep his clothes clean and himself comfortable.
There's a dim interior light in the van which gives him
plenty of illumination. He yanks Tina's boots off. She
doesn't resist. He undoes her trousers, carefully, and
slides them down and off. Creamy, white legs rise up to
a black band where her knickers lie. Knickers follow
jeans, carefully placed on a plastic sack so that his
hairs and clothing fibres won't fall on them.
Tina's legs are tightly together, but the dense curls of
pubic hair point the way to where Shaun wants to go.
Excitedly, he pulls her knees apart, and her vagina is
open to him. Tina's head is tilted up and she's making
snuffling, choking sounds. Shaun turns her head aside.
Doesn't want her looking at him. Might recognise him. In
a panic he switches off the light and fumbles his way
out of his jeans. His tool is rock hard with arousal.
Twat here for the taking. Underage twat, too. Might be a
virgin..
All this is too much for Shaun to handle. He tugs Tina
towards him, pulls her knees upwards and outwards and
with one arm holds her legs back while with the other he
pulls her lips apart and thrusts in, hard. Three or four
jerks and he's all the way in, anchored in her womb. She
wasn't a virgin after all, but she's young and tight.
Best of all, she's not asking him to do things right for
her, not like that stupid tit back in Chesil. Thinking
of tits, he gropes Tina's, but they're too small and too
soft for him. He doesn't even bother getting them out of
her shirt.
Shaun comes quickly and copiously, spraying Tina's womb
with his semen. He finds a can of lager behind a toolbox
and drinks while he recovers. Tina is still out cold.
She has no idea, yet, that she's been fucked.
Shaun has another thought. His partner won't let him
fuck her arse. Shit, all the things he's read on
websites talk about blow jobs and anal jobs, and the
women always seem to like them. Just need a bit of
persuading, that's all. Just 'cos his silly bitch is too
frigid to let him. After all, it's more or less his
right as a bloke..
Tina gets flipped onto her front and her soft, round,
plump buttocks lifted for inspection. In the dark, the
little black pucker of his target is just visible. Shaun
is hard and excited again. It takes a long time to get
in, much pulling of flesh, and pushing so hard it hurts.
The sphincter is so tight it almost skins his prick. But
then he's in, and it's lovely. He stirs, prods, tries
not to think about the shit his prick is enveloped in,
and in due course comes again. He wipes his prick on his
jockey shorts and finishes off his beer.
He opens Tina's jaws - they open easily enough and she
is dribbling from the corner of her mouth, and slides
his prick in. His partner will reluctantly give him a
blow job when she's on her period, but has always
refused to deep throat him. Tina can't refuse him. He
lunges forward. She gags. He pushes home and feels his
prick pass her tonsils. For a few seconds it is
wonderful, the best sexual experience he's ever had.
Then he's aware that Tina is choking, and the choking
gets worse until he finally removes his weapon.
Tina is hovering very close to death. Her breathing is
interrupted, even without the fleshy obstruction in her
airway and throat. Her muscles relax and she pisses
herself inside the van. Shaun feels the warm trickle and
puts the light back on.
He's frightened by what he sees. Tina is ghostly white.
There are flecks of blood and shit around her mouth.
More blood and cum, lots of it, are caked on her thighs
and legs. Shaun thinks she actually has died. In a blind
panic he opens the rear doors, pulls Tina out and dumps
her alongside a horsebox.
He shakes her trousers and knickers carefully, to remove
incriminating hair, and throws them besides her. The he
drives away without his lights on, misjudges the hedge
along the track and scrapes paint off his wing. He only
puts the van lights back on when he enters the built-up
part of Chesil.
Tina has a miraculous escape. She slumps over, forwards,
and her head turns so that her airway stays open. It's a
cold night, and just before dawn she begins to stir.
By the time it's light she's become aware of the
horrible things that have happened to her. She realises
that she's been raped, vaginally and anally (her arse is
too sore to sit properly), and the taste of shit in her
mouth forces her to accept that something even more
revolting has been done to her. Her head's splitting
with the after effects of vodka and Ketamine. But the
immediate problem is that she's not sure where she is.
She wipes herself off with her knickers, and puts her
trousers on as best she can. She's shivering with cold
and is deeply chilled.
By the time she arrives at school on Monday, her son
will have been conceived from Shaun's sperm. And she'll
also have the herpes (care of Shaun) and the chlamydia
(care of Shaun's partner, via Shaun), which will affect
her for years to come.
The last thing she can remember is leaving the pub with
Kelly and Katie. She can't remember Kelly leaving, let
alone Katie. She has absolutely no idea who has done
this to her, or how she has come to end up in this
field.
Her first thoughts are all about Police and revenge. But
as she staggers up the lane and sees the welcoming
houses of Chesil Regis, she realises that she can't. Too
many questions to answer.
She retrieves her mobile and phones home, trying to
sound insouciant and on top of everything. Dad sounds
preoccupied; he's already up, cleaning the beerpumps and
washing down the floor. He'll get across to Chesil in an
hour or so. Meet him at the traffic lights.
Tina sits on her bed, carving deep red gashes in her arm
with a razor. She let her friends know she was pregnant.
Told them it was planned. Told them it was a boy she'd
met on holiday. Told them she was lined up for a council
flat, away from mum and dad. They were well impressed.
You could say they were in awe of her. It felt good.
Then she miscarried. Too bad that everyone said "it was
for the best, really".
Now she's locked into the downward spiral of self
loathing and self harm from which there's only one exit.
"Chesil Regis. In the heart of the West Country. Clean
air, unspoilt views, safe beaches. Come and spend your
holiday among the friendly faces of Chesil. You can be
sure of a warm welcome as you soak up the atmosphere on
a summer's evening."
END
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This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life.
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Kristen's collection - Directory 26