Chapter 4 Nightmare in the park.
It was still lightly raining as Paula made her way back to park. The bandstand
would provide a little shelter. Passing under the tunnel she noted her cardboard
was still lying in an untidy heap. Perhaps I will need that tonight she thought.
Walking across the sodden grass to the bandstand with the unseasonably cold wind
gusting around her wet face, she began to doubt the wisdom of her decision to
leave. It was warm in the old pub. The bed was clean and there was plenty of
food. But there was no booze to drown her sorrows - or at least there was none
she dared touch. As soon as she sat on the bench, her arse reminded her once
again of the previous night. Sitting on the lee side of the stand she stared
almost unseeingly across the almost empty park. Only a lone woman dog walker
braved the cold wind and the rain. As the cold began to get through to her bones
Paula once again, tried to make sense of her decision to leave. The light began
to fade. Suddenly she was startled by slurred words, "Whatcha do'in, Paulie?" It
was Sam, one of the wino's she vaguely knew.
Paula didn't like the big, powerful, uncouth man. She cringed in the corner.
"Nuth'n"
"Got anyth'n in the bag?"
She handed over the bottle of sherry. It might please him enough to let her
alone, she thought.
"What else?"
Passing over the bread and cheese she watched as he ate ravenously, alternately
swigging from the bottle . He didn't leave her a crumb.
"C'mon 'ere. Yer looks cold and I got somethin' that'll warm yer up." The
aggressive man slid himself alongside the defenseless woman. She was really
afraid now. He had his left arm around her. She couldn't escape. His right hand
started to slide inside her coat.
"Nooo!" she screamed but her words were lost in the wind and dark twilight. "No,
let me go!" She punched his chest but to no effect. His hand fumbled with her
coat buttons but drunk and one handed he couldn't undo them. He ripped the coat
open. She smelled his foul breath. Yesterday she might not have noticed but
today, after a bath she smelt clean against his unwashed body.
"Yer smell nice. Where d'ya spend last night?"
"In the hostel," she lied.
Sam accepted her word but continued with his hand's journey. He ripped open her
shirt and thrust his hand inside. Her tits felt warm. He squeezed them and made
her cry out. Leaving them open and exposed to the cold air he began to work on
the zip to her flies. Paula struggles but his grip around her waist was
vice-like. Sam opened her trousers, felt inside and then forced a finger up her
cunt. It was painful and humiliating. Paula cried out but a hard slap to her
face silenced her. "I'm goin' to fuck yer whether yer like it or not," growled
Sam.
Sam pulled her lengthwise along the bench and pulled her trousers and knickers
down to her knees. Paula watched in the dim light as Sam opened his flies and
produced a semi-hard prick. He came closer to her, showing off his tool. Holding
it close to her face he grinned, "This will keep us both warm t'night."
"Nooo, you musn't...." Once again a slap to the face silenced her.
"Yer, smell ter nice, Paulie. I t'ink we c'n cure that." He aimed his cock at
her breast and let forth a stream of acrid piss. Waving his cock he managed to
spray Paula's face and most of her body before the stream finally spluttered to
a halt. Paula felt sick. Nauseated. Why did she leave the pub? She asked herself
the question again and again. Anything would be better than this.
Sam rubbed his cock until it was fairly hard and the moved near to Paula's legs
ready to make his entry into her cunt. Sensing it was now or never, Paula drew
her knees to her chest . Sam thought she was giving in and giving him an
opportunity to remove her trousers from the lower part of her legs. He stood in
front of her ready to grab the trouser legs. Instead, Paula lashed out with all
the force she could muster and hit his cock and balls with both feet. She
continued to lash out with both feet. The cry of pain that emanated from Sam's
lips should have awaken the dead from every cemetery within a three mile radius.
He staggered back, lost his balance and fell backwards clutching his groin.
Paula quickly got to her feet, pulled her trousers up and ran across the wet
grass as fast as she could. She didn't look back. Sam's moaning became lost in
the wind. She was no athlete but knew she could out run that lumbering brute.
But where should she go? John wouldn't take her back in again. At first she just
wandered aimlessly in the dark. The rain now was soaking her. Her tears added to
the wetness. She didn't care. It would help to cleanse her body of the piss. She
hardly noticed the cold until her shivering became so uncontrolled that she
could hardly stand. Eventually her meandering took her to the tunnel and the
random heap of cardboard. Home for the night? Or should she carry on to John's
house? No, he wouldn't never take her back in this state, not after she left
with the sherry. He seemed so very anti booze. Paula covered herself with the
card, but still shivering from the wet and cold and from fear Sam might decide
to come this way to find her, she couldn't get to sleep.
A woman and a dog passed through the tunnel. Inquisitively the dog nuzzled the
card and then licked Paula's face until the owner called it away and carried on.
*****
John felt more alone that evening than he had all the time he had lived there by
himself. He should get out more, he thought to himself. Perhaps, I'll get a beer
at the Speckled Hen. It was the pub at the other end of the village, one that
had succumbed to the overtures of a brewery chain and had remained in business.
"Evening Major." The landlord greeted his customer with a smile, "Don't often
see you in here."
"Too much to do to get the place to rights," John replied. "Just a half of
shandy to wash the dust away please George." John chose a quiet corner and
sipped his drink. If anything he felt more lonely inside the pub with others
around than he did at home by himself. Half an hour later he left for home.
"Evening Miriam." John greeting the woman with the dog as they passed under one
of the village street lights. "Not a very nice night again."
"Evening Major. No, we could certainly do with some of the summer warmth back
again. I pity that poor woman sleeping in the tunnel. She'll be very stiff and
cold by the morning I'll be bound. Still I suppose she used to it. Not very nice
though for those of us who have to use the subway." Miriam continued on her way.
John hurried down the road to the tunnel.
John viewed the shaking heap of cardboard with some trepidation. Hearing the
sobbing from within he knew it was Paula.
"Well, well Paula, we seem destined to meet this way."
"Go away, you don't want to see me like this. It was awful."
Surprised the words were not more slurred as he expected from someone who had
demolished half a bottle of sherry, John bent down and lifted some of the card
away from her face. A smell that could only be piss assailed his nostrils.
Noticing her bruised face he asked, "My God, Paula, what happened?"
"It was awful," was all she would say before she added, "Go home and let me die
in peace."
"Get up!" It was his major's commanding voice again. Paula stirred but didn't
find the strength to do more than sit. John lifted her to her feet and then
hoisted her to his shoulders in a fireman's hold. She wasn't too heavy so he was
able to carry her back to the house without too much difficulty. Along the way
she repeatedly told him, "Leave me I'm not worth it."
As on the previous night he removed her clothes in the kitchen noting how torn
they were. He could only imagine what must have happened in the short space of
time since she left his house.
"John, let me go. I just want to die and get some peace."
"No, you are not going anywhere except in the bath and then to bed. Same as last
night. He lead the sobbing woman upstairs to the bathroom. Adding more Babybath
this time he left her to soak while he started the washing machine going. He
hoped the smell would dissipate from the kitchen by morning.
Returning to the bath with mugs of hot chocolate, he was greeted with, "John?
Please.... I didn't drink the sherry. Please believe me. Please."
"Paula, if you had drunk that amount of sherry you wouldn't be able to talk the
way you are. Yes, I believe you and I won't punish you for taking it. Whatever
happened out there, you can tell me when you are ready. Or do you want me to get
the police involved?" When Paula said, "No," he continued, "Now get the
chocolate inside you. Then we'll get you to bed. Are you hungry? Did you eat the
bread and cheese?" Paula shook her head, no. "Right then I'll open another tin
of soup and bring it up when we've got you into bed."
********
For the second night running Paula found herself naked in a warm bed alongside
and equally naked man. John put his arm around her and drew her close to his
body. Kissing her forehead he whispered, "Last night I promised I would not fuck
you. I make no such promise tonight but I won't do anything you don't allow me
to do. For now just relax and rest. Get some sleep and try to recover from
whatever ordeal you have been through."
*******
"NOOOOO!!!" The scream and a flurry of flailing arms and fists that assailed his
chest instantly woke him. "NNNNOOOO!!! SAM YOU MUSTN'T ....."
John flipped on the light. "Hush, hush, its alright Paula. Calm down now. You
were dreaming." Seeing her sweat covered body lying there he knew it was more
than a dream, it was a nightmare. She was reliving the events of the previous
evening. John cuddled her close, speaking soothing words to quieten her.
Gradually Paula's breathing returned to normal and she allowed herself to relax
in his arms. "Tell me what happened Paula." The words were spoken quietly but
with authority. Somehow Paula felt compelled to answer and slowly, hesitantly,
related the events from the time she left his house. She was sobbing again as
she finished her story.
John fetched a flannel from the bathroom and wiped her face and the sweat from
her body. For a while they just lay there holding each other. Not talking. Not
sleeping, just thinking. After a while John turned off the light and they
snuggled down in the bed until the blankets came up to their chins. Still
clasped tightly together, they drifted off to sleep. Paula slept erratically.
She woke, peered at the clock. 5.07. She had to pee. John felt her move and
leave the bed. Was she looking for booze? He was relieved when he heard her
tinkling in the toilet.
Returning to the bed and finding John awake, she murmured "Sorry," and slid
herself tightly alongside him. His arms enfolded her and they rolled over, she
ending on top of him their bodies in close contact. John tentatively kissed her
lips, then again more firmly, Paula responded not really knowing why but carried
along by the passion of the moment and the relief that followed the ending of
the nightmare. She kissed him again and again. Her movements ground their bodies
together. Inevitably his cock became fully erect and rock hard.
"Do you realise the effect you are having on me?" John enquired, "Can you feel
it?"
"Yes," and after a pause she added, "And I want it."
"You don't have to you know. After last night I would understand."
"I want it," she repeated, raising her body a little and placing the head of his
cock at the opening of her cunt. Slowly she pushed down until he was fully
embedded within her. It had been a long while since she had been filled in this
way. She savoured the moment and then slowly began to thrust up and down on his
rampant manhood. Gradually she built up the tempo and the strokes increased in
rapidity. Groans of pleasure came from her lips. John assisted by placing his
hands under her tits and helping with the upstrokes. It wasn't long though,
before he was ready to climax. Stopping her, he pointed out that she was
unprotected. "Don't worry." She whispered, "I had unprotected sex with Bob for
four years without any result. He got his new love pregnant within a month."
Moments later he erupted within her womb.
*********
They didn't lie there long. Both were naturally early risers and by seven they
sat at the breakfast table listening to the news on local radio.
'......last night a homeless man, Sam Briggs, was assaulted in a local park. He
is now recovering in hospital. Two youths have been arrested and are being
questioned about the incident.'
"We have to let the police know, Paula. We cannot let those two boys go to jail
for something they didn't do."
"But I don't want to go through all that again. I don't want the questioning. I
don't...."
"Think of those kids Paula. What they are going through."
"Maybe they attacked him afterwards?"
"Look, Peter Chapman is an inspector and a friend of mine, I'll phone him and
see what I can find out." John phoned his home number. "Morning Peter, Major
Padham here. Look I may be able to help you and you can return the favour. John
outlined the news report and outlined what happened to Paula. He pointed out
there would probably still be evidence at the bandstand, such as her torn bra,
buttons from her shirt and coat. There might also be skin from the scratches on
Paula's breasts under Sam Briggs' finger nails. I also have the urine
impregnated shirt. It was too torn to put through the washer so I stuffed in a
plastic bag and put it in the wheelie but can remove it."
"Well, I'm not actually on that case but I will pass the info on and get people
out to check the site. I presume the return favour you want is to keep you out
of it?"
"Paula doesn't want to press charges. She's been through enough already."
"No promises on that but I will do what I can. No one can force her to press
charges. Look, I'll talk to who ever's in charge of the case and get someone out
to take a statement. It will have to be a WPC trained in rape cases. I'll get
back to you. Thanks."
An hour later the phone rang again. "Peter here. Briggs' injuries are consistent
with Paula's description of what she did. They have freed the youths. Forensic
have taken scrapings from under his finger nails and will want the shirt for DNA
testing. I expect Briggs will confess when we question him but without Paula
preferring charges, we won't be able to hold him. Sergeant June Bealings will be
round to see you around 10 o'clock. We have a couple of officers arriving at the
site at this moment to make a search. Everything is very wet out there so some
evidence may have been washed away."
Sergeant June Bealings arrived at the appointed time and questioned and took
statements from both of them individually and then together. Paula was
embarrassed at first. The only clothes she had to wear were from my wardrobe and
much too big for her. June was obviously experienced at her job and went through
the whole process with tack and consideration. She asked to take photographs of
the bruising to Paula's face. Overnight the purple colouring had increased
dramatically. She produced a Polaroid camera and took four pictures of the face
and two of the chest scratches. We should really have them taken by a proper
photographer with the police surgeon present but we can say you declined to
attend the station.
Paula emphasised once again that she didn't want to go to court. June
surprisingly said, "Officially I must try and get you to press charges but off
the record, it could give you a lot of grief and he still might get away with
it. I believe it happened as you said but a lawyer would try and make out you
were willing, that you could have left as soon as he arrived but didn't, you
willingly gave him the food and drink, that you wanted to have sex with him. It
would be very harrowing for you to prove otherwise. So while I and others will
officially ask you to reconsider pressing charges, my unofficial advise is,
don't. But I never said that!"
An hour an a half later she left taking the smelly shirt with her.
