‘He’s fast asleep,’ Gemma whispered, as she pulled the door to on the bedroom her son was sleeping in. ‘He looks so cute.’
‘All four-year-olds look cute,’ Amber said, smiling. She patted the Queen-sized bed she was sitting on. ‘Now get in, you’ve had a long day, hon.’
‘I know, and that bath has sapped all my energy,’ Gemma said, going over to the window. Rain drummed noisily on windowpane driven by an unrelenting high wind that buffeted the small cottage they were staying in. ‘It’s dark already,’ she said, pulling her dressing gown tighter around her although the temperature in the room was warm enough.
‘Pull the curtains and get into bed,’ her friend said gently but firmly.
‘Stop giving me orders,’ Gemma rebuked good naturedly.
‘Sorry. Am I fussing again?’ Amber pretended offence.
‘Yes.’
‘Do you want me to stop?’
Gemma thought for a moment before replying. ‘Maybe,’ she said cryptically, provoking a laugh from her friend. Amber’s expressive eyes, she reflected, alternated between mischievousness and playfulness. They were a light green with a hint of hazel set into a soft round face framed by dark wavy hair that matched Amber’s vivacious personality. She had a lithe shapely figure that had an almost cat-like quality to it lending Amber a peculiar gracefulness when she moved.
Gemma took a step towards the bed and cried out, almost losing her balance. ‘Fuck!’
Amber sat up straight, concerned. ‘You okay? What happened?’
Gemma bent down picking up something off the floor. ‘Nothing, it’s just one of Stevie’s toy cars. They’re everywhere. I told him not to play with them in his room.’
‘All four-year old boys like toy cars,’ Amber laughed, relaxing again.
‘Like them? He never stops playing with them.’
‘Maybe he’ll be a racing driver when he grows up.’
‘I think I’d prefer him to be a driving instructor,’ Gemma said. She ran her fingers through her wet hair. ‘Wish I’d remembered to bring my hair dryer,’ she said, not for the first time.
‘My hair’s drying out okay,’ Amber responded, touching her shoulder length chestnut brown hair. Like Gemma she wore a dressing gown.
‘You had your bath first. Your hair has had more time to dry.’
‘Of course. You were settling little Stevie, weren’t you?’
‘Hmm. You’re lucky you didn’t use up all the hot water.’
‘I wouldn’t dare,’ Amber sniffed, with exaggerated pretense.
‘Let’s get into bed,’ Gemma said, turning off the main bedroom light. Only the soft light from the bedside lamp now illuminated the room.
‘You sure you don’t want me to sleep on the sofa, hon?’
‘For the hundredth time, no. I’m not having you sleep on the sofa. Besides it’s taken.’
‘Taken?’
‘Yes, Benji’s sleeping there.’ Benji was Gemma’s pet Cairn terrier.
‘That’s that decided then,’ Amber said, taking off her dressing gown. Underneath she wore a clinging satin black nightie that accentuated her shapely figure. She pulled the duvet back and climbed in. Gemma shed her dressing gown and got in the other side.
‘Anyway,’ Gemma said, moving close to Amber, so their faces almost touched. ‘I don’t want to sleep on my own tonight.’
Amber putting a comforting hand on her friend’s shoulder. ‘Stop worrying. The police will find him. He’s not going to get away with it this time.’
‘Do you know what date it is today?’
‘It’s the thirty-first.’
‘The thirty-first of October. Halloween. I should be back at home in London taking Stevie out trick or treating. Instead, I’m holed up like some refugee in my parent’s holiday cottage in Kent in the arsehole of nowhere.’
‘Don’t be so hard on yourself. You and Stevie are safe and that’s all that matters. Once they find him, you’ll be able to go home. There’ll be plenty more Halloweens to take Stevie trick or treating.’
‘Do you know what Stevie asked me this morning? He asked me if there was such a thing as monsters in real life, and I told him there wasn’t. But there is, isn’t there? There really is.’
‘Hey,’ Amber soothed, giving her friend an affectionate hug. ‘Everything is going to be alright.’
There was a sudden loud increase in the rain pelting against the windowpane, and a fierce gust of wind rattled the windows in the small cottage. It was as though something was trying to get in, Gemma thought. After a few seconds it seemed to die down a little.
‘Halloween,’ Gemma breathed. ‘You used to be into all that stuff, didn’t you?’
‘Halloween?’
‘Yes, I remember when we were together back at Uni. You were quite heavily into all that stuff, paganism and witches — what was it you called it?’
‘Wicca,’ Amber said softly.
‘Yes, that’s right. That’s an old word for witchcraft, isn’t it?
‘
‘Early twentieth century, actually.’
‘But it’s all to do with witches, making potions and casting spells, isn’t it?’
‘There’s a bit more to it than that,’ Amber was absent-mindedly stroking Gemma hair.
‘Are you still into it?’
‘No, that was years ago, back when we were students. You know, trying out different things — you were quite a militant socialist if I remember.’
Amber laughed, ‘God, yes, I was well into going on protest marches, lobbying politicians, I had Che Guevara t-shirt and everything.’
‘There you go then. You’re not still off on protest marches, are you?’
‘No, not with little Stevie to look after. I only asked because, well, when we bumped into each other again back in August in Tescos, I’m sure you were wearing a necklace with one of those pagan symbols or whatever — that star thingy, you know the one?’
‘A pentagram.’
‘Yes, that it. A pentagram. You were wearing one of those.’
Amber shrugged, ‘Yes, well I still have some old jewelry I used to wear. I bet you too do.’
‘Yes, I do have stuff I still wear — cheap n tacky.’
‘No, it’s not.’
Gemma sighed. ‘I was so lucky running into you again. After all this time.’
‘it’s only been ten years,’ Amber said.
‘Ten years and here we are back in bed together. How long did we date? Two months, was it?’
‘No, five weeks, maybe six. Then you went off with Liam Kelly, the tallest, best-looking bloke on campus.’
‘Yeah,’ Gemma smiled remembering. ‘And the biggest wanker too. God, what did I see in him?’
‘His big shlong?’
‘Well, yes, he was pretty well endowed.’ She sighed again. ‘And that was it. Every guy I’ve dated since then was a either a total tosser, a psychopath, or both. I thought when I met Stevie’s dad I’d landed a decent bloke, but after I got pregnant, he didn’t want to know. Didn’t see him for dust. Then when I met Craig on New Year’s Eve last year I thought my luck had finally changed. What a fool I’ve been.’ She gave a bitter laugh.
Amber gave her a kiss on the forehead. ‘Don’t be so hard on yourself. Psychos like Craig don’t walk about with a warning label stabled to their face. They should do but they don’t.’
Gemma touched Amber’s cheek with her fingers, gazing into her eyes. ‘I should never have left you,’ she whispered.
Amber frowned, ‘You were never a lesbian, Gemma. You were just experimenting when you were with me. Lots of people do when they go to Uni.’
‘It was a bloody nice experiment,’ Gemma said softly. She leaned into Amber, closed her eyes, her lips slightly parted.
‘Gemma, please,’ Amber said, pulling away.
Gemma opened her eyes, she looked hurt by the rejection.
‘Sorry, hon, I just don’t think you’re in the right place. Emotionally, I mean. After all you’ve been through lately. I don’t think we should do anything we might regret in the morning.’
‘You don’t want me, do you?’
‘I didn’t say that, Gemma. You know what I mean.’
‘So, you do want me?’
‘It’s not about what I want. More about what you need, and I think you need some time and space before getting involved intimately with anyone, let alone with me.’
‘I need you.’ Gemma reached around Amber under the covers, placing her hand on Amber’s back to draw her closer.
‘You have me, Gemma. I’m not going anywhere. We don’t need to rush into anything.’
‘Okay, so we should just go to sleep now?’
‘I suppose, yes.’
‘I have a problem with that, Amber.’
‘What, aren’t you feeling tired?’
‘A bit, I suppose. But my big problem is I’m also feeling incredibly horny.’
‘In that case, Gemma, I think we’re both going to have trouble getting to sleep.’
Both women lapsed into silence, gazing into each other’s eyes in the soft half light in the room. In the intensity of the moment the sound of wind and rain battering the house seemed to fade away as though the distant background noise was inconsequential, like a television or radio having been left on.
Amber leaned in, her lips brushing lightly against Gemma’s, a ghost of a kiss. ‘You sure?’
‘Very,’ Gemma breathed.
This kiss was fuller, both women’s desires brimming over. Amber opening her mouth to allow Gemma’s tongue to mesh with her own, her hands moving over Gemma’s back pulling her closer, feeling her warmth through the thin material of their nighties, the soft press of Gemma’s ample breasts against her own chest.
Gemma’s cupped Amber’s face in her hands. Small sounds of pleasure came from both women’s throats as they reveled in each other’s touch, taste and desire.
Amber’s hand slid from Gemma’s back and moved to her breast, kneading it gently before finding the top button on Gemma’s nightie and unfastening it. Her fingers worked quickly as they moved down undoing each small button with haste, until the last one was freed, and Amber could push aside the material to completely expose Gemma’s breasts and stomach to her touch and view. She slid her hand over Gemma’s large breasts feeling the hardened buds of Gemma’s nipples against the palm of her hand. As they kissed, Amber shifted her position, so she was on top of Gemma.
Gemma whimpered at the sensation of Amber’s hand on her breasts, placing her own hand over Amber’s to encourage her to squeeze and knead her breast harder.
Amber broke the kiss and both women gazed hungrily at each other, their breaths short and rapid. Amber moved in and Gemma opened her mouth in anticipation, but Amber instead kissed her on the cheek then moved down to the nape of her neck. There were four dark blemishes there, bruise marks, and Amber kissed each one as though willing them to disappear. She moved down kissing Gemma’s shoulders then down to her chest. There were more bruise marks there dotted around, some older and more faded than others but each one testament to the rough and cruel treatment Gemma had suffered from her ex, each mark a signature of hurt and hate. The shock of seeing them almost stopped Amber cold.
She felt Gemma’s hand on the back of her head encouraging more attention and Amber stooped her head, planting light kisses on each dark mark blemishing Gemma’s beautiful body, as a mother might kiss the spots where her child had been stung with nettles.
Gemma’s impatient hands guided Amber to her nipples and Amber obligingly paid them the desired attention. She used her tongue to make warm wet circles over the areola before planting teasing wet kisses on the nipple, finally taking the hardened pink bud into her mouth and sucking hard.
Gemma inhaled sharply at the intense pleasure Amber was inflicting on her. Amber took her time using both hands to knead and stoking her lover’s breasts as she worked her mouth first on one nipple then the other.
‘Amber, take off your nightie, I want to feel you,’ Gemma said, her voice thick with arousal. Amber moved her legs either side of Gemma, so she straddled her, and sitting up pulled the silk garment up over her head in one smooth motion and tossed it carelessly to the floor.
Gemma’s hands glided over Amber’s torso, starting at her hips and waist, then sliding up over her soft firm mounds of her breasts. Gemma sat up a little, enough to pull her arms free of her own nightie so both women were now naked apart from their panties.
Gemma’s reached for Amber to pull her down so she could feel her skin against her own. Amber moved from side to side, so her breasts rubbed over Gemma’s.
They kissed again as they relished the feel of each other’s bodies. Amber, being on top, took control and was soon moving down Gemma’s body, her tongue leaving a cool wet trail over Gemma’s skin as she descended, moving down over her stomach and navel. Gemma’s breathing deepened in anticipation as Amber reached her pantie line.
Amber planted gentle kisses over Gemma’s pubic mound then moved down to kiss the plump folds of her pussy that dampened the thin silk material of her panties. Amber hooked her thumbs either side of the panties and pulled down the skimpy underwear. Gemma lifted her bottom to facilitate the garment’s removal and brought her knees up to make it easy for Amber to remove them completely.
Gemma opened her thighs wide to expose her aching pussy to Amber’s touch.
Amber drinking in the heady scent of her lover’s arousal, began by working her tongue around the sensitive folds of labial skin before pressing her mouth firmly against Gemma’s sex, her tongue darting in and out of the soft wet entrance causing Gemma to cry out from sheer ecstasy.
Gemma placed her hands on the back of Amber’s head, and folded her legs over Amber’s back locking her in position.
Amber moved her mouth in small circles over Gemma’s pussy, her tongue swirling and probing, taking care to avoid stimulating Gemma’s clitoris too soon, for she wanted to drive Amber into a delirium of pleasure before giving her the intense climax she hungered for. Amber reached up and found Gemma’s soft big breasts, kneading and pressing them, her fingers finding the hardened nipples and crushing them, eliciting moans, curses and cries from Gemma. The music of lovemaking.
Gemma’s need was urgent now and she lifted her hips to meet the darting thrusts of Amber’s tongue, pressing her pussy hard into her lover’s face. Amber moved her hands down to grip Gemma’s hips to control her thrusts as she pressed her tongue against Gemma’s clitoral bud.
‘Oh, God, oh Christ!’ Gemma cried out, as an electric current of ecstasy coursed through her. Her orgasm was coming, an unstoppable wave building swiftly to a crescendo. Amber used the tip of her tongue to press and push against the orgasm button.
Gemma’s body tensed and her back arched as her orgasm pulsed through her. Seconds stretched into eternity. Amber pushed her tongue deep inside to taste the tangy nectar gushing from Gemma’s pussy.
Gemma’s body finally relaxed as the powerful orgasm subsided. A sheen of sweat covered her body and her breathing began to return gradually to normal.
Amber planted an affection kiss on Gemma’s abused wet pussy before slithering up to lie beside Gemma.
‘Thank you,’ Gemma said, her breathing restored enough to talk.
‘My pleasure,’ Amber said, plucking a stray lock of hair stuck to Gemma’s damp forehead and planting a soft kiss there.
Gemma turned on her side to see Amber more easily. ‘I forgot how good you are with your tongue.’
‘Glad to see I haven’t lost my touch,’ Amber grinned, delighted at the compliment.
‘I’m glad to have found your touch, again,’ Gemma said, kissing Amber lightly on the lips and snuggling closer. There was warmth Gemma felt inside her that she had not felt in a long time. The orgasm on top of tiredness was lulling her to sleep. She did not want to drift off, she wanted to reciprocate the pleasure Amber had given to her, wanted to hear Amber call her name, make her swear and sweat and come, to redden her cheeks with the afterglow of orgasm.
Gemma was just trying to fight off the pull of sleep to find the energy to start another round lovemaking when she felt Amber suddenly tense.
‘Amber?’
‘Saw something, a light reflected in the window.’
‘A light?’
‘It looked like a car’s headlight. Just for a moment.’
Gemma was immediately awake and alert.
‘There,’ Amber said.
Gemma turned and saw a glare of light that could only be from a car’s headlights sweep momentarily into the room through the rain battered window.
‘Oh, my god,’ she breathed.
‘Now, don’t panic. Could it be your parents?’
‘At this time of night? No.’ She was sitting up now, all vestiges of weariness gone by the implicit threat that had sliced into the night.
Amber was up and out of her bed and pulling on her dressing gown in urgent haste. As she tied the belt around her waist, she scooped up Gemma’s dressing gown, and tossed it onto the bed where Gemma, sitting up, had pulled the duvet protectively around her.
Amber saw the fear in Gemma’s eyes and taut expression which fed her own growing fear. There was something else she felt, a feeling that had momentarily surfaced as she was exploring Gemma’s body and saw the marks of bruises on Gemma’s skin — a seething anger for the person who had hurt and abused Gemma.
Both women shared an alarmed glance as the sound of car wheels on the gravel path leading to the cottage could be heard through a lull in driving wind and rain.
‘Quick, put that on,’ Amber said, breaking Gemma’s panic-stricken reverie. Gemma began to pull on her dressing gown as outside they heard a car brake suddenly, the gravel in the driveway crunching loudly beneath the wheels.
‘Your phone,’ Amber said.
‘It’s dead,’ Gemma wailed, remembering she forgot to put it on a charger when they had arrived. She had been too preoccupied with little Stevie.
‘Mine’s in the living room, in my bag,’ Amber said, pulling open the bedroom door.
From outside they heard the slam of a car door. Feet on the gravel path.
Benji was up and off the sofa and into the hallway barking excitedly at the front door.
‘If it’s him, there’s not much time,’ Amber said urgently. ‘Listen, I’m going out to speak to him. You stay in here, lock the door.’
‘It doesn’t have a lock.’
‘Shit. Okay, do you know how to barricade a door?’
Gemma stared helplessly at her then screamed as there was loud thump on the front door. Benji’s barking became more frantic.
Amber ignored the sounds. Instead, she grabbed a chair that was in the corner of the room and hauled it over to the bedroom door.
There came a steady pounding on the front door, an angry, threating sound that turned Gemma’s blood to ice. She gazed fearfully at the adjoining bedroom where Stevie was asleep in bed.
‘You close the door tight,’ Amber said. ‘Gemma! Look at me!’
Gemma forced herself to look at Amber, trying to push down the rising tide of fear and panic, to hear Amber’s words.
‘You close the door tight, then angle the chair like this,’ she tipped the chair at a 45 degree angle. ‘Then wedge the chair’s back under the door handle like this,’ she demonstrated how to place the chair, then pulled it away and opened the door.
‘Amber! Don’t go out there, please! You don’t know what he’s like — if he’s been drinking . . .’
‘You stay in here and don’t come out, okay. You don’t come out until I say you can,’ Amber instructed firmly.
The pounding was now a loud frantic tattoo on the door accompanied by the dog’s near hysterical barking. ‘Let me in you bitch! I know you’re fucking in there! Gemma, open this fucking door, now!’
There came a massive blow on the door, and it shuddered in its frame, its chain lock rattling.
Amber went through the living room stopping only to grab her phone from her bag before going into the hallway in time to see the door shudder from another loud blow. The front door was reasonably strong and might just hold, but Amber knew once he went to the back of the cottage, he could get in, for the back door of the cottage was not sturdy and had a large glass panel.
‘Craig?’ Amber shouted through the closed door.
The pounding stopped.
Benji’s barking continued unabated, and Amber tried to calm the dog down grabbing its collar and hushing it.
‘Who the fuck’s that?’ Craig bellowed.
‘Gemma doesn’t want to see you, Craig. She’s nothing to say to you.’
‘Who is this?’ he yelled back.
‘The police are on their way here. If I were you, I’d leave,’ Amber answered.
There was a moment’s silence, and the sound of wind and rain filled the vacuum.
‘You’re that fucking dyke bitch that’s been hanging around her,’ he shouted.
Another angry blow fell on the door provoking more barking from the dog.
‘Gemma! Gemma, let me in. I just want to talk.’
‘The police are on their way, Craig.’
‘Gemma, let me the fuck in, or I’ll kick this door down!’ There came another fierce blow and Amber thought the lock might splinter from such a violent impact.
‘Craig. Listen. I’ll let you in. but you have to promise me to calm the fuck down first, okay?’
There came a silence from beyond the door. It lasted so long that Amber wondered if he hadn’t left. Then it occurred he might have gone around the back where the flimsy back door was. Amber was just about to check, when his voice sounded through the door. ‘I’m calm now. You can open the door,’ he said. His voice was raised but only enough to be heard through the wind and slanting rain.
‘You can come in, but you can only talk to her from the living room. She’s locked in the bedroom and you’re not going in there, understood?’
There was another contemplative silence. ‘Okay, whatever you say.’ The words sounded reluctant and forced.
Amber unfastened the chain lock and taking a breath turned the Yale lock mechanism so the door could be opened.
The next instant, Amber was knocked back as the door exploded inwards and Craig forced his way inside.
He was a big, burly man, his wet lank hair matted and plastered to his forehead, his jacket soaked and coming off him was the strong smell of alcohol.
Amber pushed herself off the wall that she’d fallen against. She tried to bar his path in the hallway with her body, but he thrust her aside with astonishing ease, and strode into the living room, paying scant attention to the yapping terrier at his ankles.
‘Craig!’ Amber yelled, hurrying after him. She had to stop him from getting to Gemma and Stevie, at all costs.
He stood in the center of the room, his bulky form filling the space with menace.
He slowly swiveled his head and glared at Amber with malevolent, bloodshot eyes. ‘Where is she?’
In the bedroom, Gemma, her ear pressed to the door, listened intently trying to make sense of the sounds beyond. She had jammed the chair under the door handle as directed and hoped the door would hold if assaulted. She glanced back into the adjoining bedroom where she could see Stevie thankfully still asleep in bed. From behind the door the sounds had been alarming. She’d heard the pounding on the front door and the dog barking and Amber’s voice as she yelled through the door at Craig, for it could be no one else.
The barrier of the door combined with the sound of the lashing wind and rain made it impossible to make out the words but after a while she heard a loud bang, then voices coming from much nearer. He was in the living room. She could make out Amber’s voice too as she responded to the aggressive sounding utterances of her ex. She heard Craig call her name then Amber was saying something, her words rushed, and her voice raised.
Gemma jumped as there was a sudden crashing sound of something being thrown against a wall, then a shout by Amber, mingled with a frantic barking that ended abruptly in a high-pitched canine yelp.
The dog whimpered loudly, and Gemma heard Amber say something in an angry tone followed by cursing from Craig, then there was another crash and this time a cry — but a male cry – Craig’s. It rose into a prolonged high-pitched scream then cut suddenly to an ominous silence.
Gemma scarcely dared breath. The silence, if anything, was worse than the shouts and sounds of violence. Even Benji’s whimpering had ceased. There was only the sound of the wind and rain. It was as though Gemma was suddenly alone in the cottage. Her mouth felt bone dry.
‘Amber?’ she called, her words hoarse with fear. She cleared her throat and raised her voice. ‘Amber?’
There was only silence, then from just the other side of the door, as though the speaker was right up against it on the other side. ‘Gemma?’
It was Amber.
Gemma almost wept with relief.
‘Stay there, hon.’
‘What’s happened? Amber, tell me.’
‘Just stay there,’ Gemma said again, this time her words more distant as though she’d moved away from the door. Her voice was raised too as though she was out in the hallway.
‘Is Craig still here? Has he gone? Are you okay?’
‘I’m fine. Just stay there, Gemma.’
Gemma thought she could detect a hint of impatience in Amber’s tone.
‘If he’s gone, I’m coming out,’ she yelled, so she could be sure Amber could hear her from wherever she was in the cottage.
‘Not yet!’ Amber said, her voice urgent.
Gemma could stand the suspense no longer and pulled the chair away from the door. She licked her lips nervously suddenly afraid of what sight might greet her on the other side of the door.
She pulled it open.
The living room was in disarray, a chair was over on its side, a wooden coffee table lay against one wall, its contents, some plates and mugs were strewn on the carpet.
Amber was over in the opposite corner of the room, squatting down, feeding something to Benji, who took whatever it was into its mouth and chewed with some difficulty. Amber turned and Gemma caught in her eyes what might have been a guilty expression, and for a moment Gemma had the bizarre impression that she had caught her friend doing something she would disapprove of, then Amber’s expression abruptly changed as she smiled with reassurance at Gemma.
Amber’s hair was a wild tangle and her dressing gown off one shoulder as though someone had tried to pull it off. Other than that, to Gemma’s relief there was no sign of injury. There was something else though, a faint unpleasant smell in the room that was familiar but odd which Gemma could not place. The odor was but out of place — an outdoor smell. Then it struck her, it was the smell she’d picked up at firework displays- hydrogen sulphide.
‘Is he still here?’ Gemma asked, putting thoughts of the odd smell to one side.
‘No, he’s gone,’ Amber said. There was a strange finality to her words.
‘You mean left. He’s left?’
‘Yes.’
‘I didn’t hear his car leave.’
‘No, I expect you wouldn’t what with the wind and rain.’
‘How? I mean, what happened? What did you say to him?’ Gemma asked, going through the living room and into the hallway. The front door was wide open, gusts of cold air rushing in.
‘I told him the police were on their way, I guess that did the trick. Mind you, he wasn’t too happy about it.’
‘I heard screams.’
‘Things got a little physical,’ Amber admitted as she fixed her dressing gown. ‘Sometimes it takes more than words.’
Gemma stood in the doorway squinting against the rain that lashed her face and dampened her dressing gown. There was only her car in the driveway. Craig’s car was not there but she could see the skid marks in the drive where he had parked it.
Amber came out in the hallway. She placed a hand on Gemma’s shoulder. ‘Close the door, hon. You’ll catch your death.’
Amber stared out into the dark rain lashed night for a few more moments before closing the door. She turned to Amber and embraced her tightly. ‘He didn’t hurt you, did he?’
‘No, not a scratch.’ Amber took her hand. ‘Let’s go back to bed.’
‘Wait, I haven’t latched the door chain.’
‘There’s no need. He won’t be back.’
Again, there was that finality to her words that was somehow unsettling. Gemma brushed the concern from her thoughts and told herself to be grateful things had turned out alright. Craig had left and if he thought the police were on their way he wouldn’t risk returning.
‘Did you call the police?’ she asked Amber as she was led through the living room.
‘No.’
‘No? Why the hell not?”
‘There was no time. Anyway, they wouldn’t have got here for ages, what use would they be then?’
‘But if . . .’
‘Everything’s okay, hon. He’s gone.’
Gemma pulled loose from Amber’s hold. ‘You say that like he’s . . .’
‘Like what?’
‘I don’t know. What is that smell?’
‘Smell?’ Amber sniffed the air as though she couldn’t detect the pungent smell in the living room.
‘Can’t you smell it? Like fireworks.’
‘Craig was smoking when he came in,’ Amber said by way of explanation.
‘He vapes.’
‘We can open the windows in the morning after it stops raining. C’mon. it’s been a hell of a night. Let’s get back to bed.’
Gemma could not help think that Amber was diverting her from a train of thought. She felt something brush against her feet and looked down. ‘Hello, boy,’ she said to Benji who was wagging his tail. She bent to stoke him. ‘You okay, boy? Who was a brave doggy? Was he hurt? — I heard him yelping.’ this to Amber.
‘Craig kicked him, but I checked him out. I’m pretty sure he’s okay, no bones damaged.’
They went back into the bedroom and as they reached the foot of the bed, Gemma turned to Amber and kissed her on the lips. ‘You were pretty brave too.’
‘I would have never let him hurt you or Stevie.’
‘My knight in shining armour.’
‘I don’t know about that,’ Amber said modestly.
Gemma pulled Amber’s dressing gown belt loose letting the garment fall open. She slipped her hands inside feeling Amber’s warm skin against her cool hands.
She slid her hands over Amber’s waist, moving them up to cup her breasts. ‘And what does the maiden do to the knight after she’s been rescued?’ She kissed Amber again.
‘I don’t know. What does the maiden do?’ Amber said softly.
‘She does whatever she likes to show her gratitude,’ Gemma said, as she slid a hand down, reaching for Amber’s crotch. She pressed her index finger against the thin silk material of Amber’s panties.
‘Still wearing armour. That won’t do,’ Gemma said, dropping to her knees, so Amber’s crotch was facing her. She planted a kiss there, as her hands caressed Amber’s curvaceous rump. Then in one quick motion she hooked her fingers under the pantie’s waist band and pulled them down.
As the flimsy garment fell around her ankles, Amber lifted her feet and kicked it away. Gemma undid her own belt and shrugged her dressing gown off as she drank in the sight.
Amber was clean shaven and where her pubic hair should have been there was a tattoo; a pentagram in a circle and on either side a crescent moon. Gemma kissed it. ‘Your tattoo. What is it?’
‘It is the triple goddess sign,’ Amber said, then gasped, for Gemma’s mouth had moved lower.
‘Triple Goddess?’ Gemma asked, as she used one hand to direct Amber to lift her leg and place one foot on the bed to allow Gemma better access beneath.
‘Yes, they represent the moon cycle . . .’ Amber let out a cry as Gemma, her head tilted back her mouth planted over Amber’s sex, used her tongue to part Amber’s soft sensitive labial lips.
‘Tell me more,’ Gemma said, returning to pleasure Amber.
‘They are the maiden, the mother and the . . . uh, crone. One rules the heavens, one the earth, and one the underworld. Oh God.’
Gemma had one hand under Amber’s rump for better control, the other was free and she now inserted two fingers deep into Amber’s pussy, as her tongue ran up and down the wet grooves of delicate flesh.
Amber placed a hand on top of Gemma’s head for balance for the pleasure was making it difficult to maintain her standing position. She looked down though the valley of her breasts to see Gemma’s eyes on hers. The visual contact was deeply intense and erotic and Amber could feel her orgasm begin to build as Gemma fingered and licked her with carnal urgency.
‘Gemma, I got to warn you, I . . . I squirt, uh . . .sometimes.’
Gemma paused her work to say only one word: ‘Good.’
Amber’s eyes flared wide as Gemma’s tongue worked her clit mercilessly, her fingers moving rapidly in out, each time thrusting deep inside and curling to find Amber’s g-spot.
Amber suddenly cried out as her orgasm came like a dam bursting. Gemma withdrew her fingers as Amber’s ejaculate gushed into her mouth and soaked her face her in warm wetness, flowing down to run in rivulets between her breasts.
Amber, her legs too weak to stand, sat down heavily on the bed then fell back, drained.
Gemma rose from her knees and joined Amber on the bed.
‘Sorry,’ Amber said. ‘I gushed over your face.’
‘I loved it,’ Gemma said, smiling.
‘Let’s get into bed.’
Under the duvet once more the two women curled up in each other’s arms. They nuzzled and kissed each other but both were too exhausted for any further lovemaking. Gemma for the first time in longer than she could recall felt safe and she wondered why, for although Craig had gone tonight, he was still out there somewhere, still free to hunt her, to terrorise and abuse her. She should feel afraid at this realisation, but oddly, the fear was simply not there.
There was something else bothering her, though she could not place what it might be, but it nagged at her, nonetheless. Then she worried no more about it for sleep took her in its velvet embrace and carried her through the rest of the rain-driven night.
* * *
Gemma woke to the smell of cooking. Sunlight streamed through the window. She could hear a blackbird singing from nearby. It was as if last night’s storm had just been a bad dream. She opened her eyes and suddenly recalled what it was that had so bothered her as she was drifting to sleep.
She found her dressing gown and went into the living room which was now tidy and restored to order. Stevie was up and sitting on the floor in his pyjamas, busy playing with his toy cars. Amber was in the kitchen cooking a breakfast that smelt delicious. She beamed a smile at Gemma as she added some ingredients into a steaming saucepan. ‘Morning,’ Amber said breezily. She was dressed in tight jeans and a loose fitting t-shirt her hair immaculately brushed.
‘You let me sleep in,’ Gemma said, sauntering over to her.
‘Yup, figured you could do with some extra kip after the drama last night. Omelette well be ready in five.’
‘I’m just going to shower and dress,’ Gemma said, planting a light kiss on Amber’s cheek.
‘Okay,’ Amber replied. ‘Don’t be long.’
‘Morning sweetie,’ Gemma said to her son. Stevie looked up and smiled. ‘Morning mummy,’ he said before returning his attention to his game.
While she showered Gemma turned over the events that had occurred last night. The lovemaking was amazing, but it was the sequence of events from when Craig arrived that was troubling her. There was something not right and frustratingly she could not pinpoint it. It was like looking a jigsaw with a piece missing. She dried herself and dressed quickly.
Amber had set the small table in the living room and was serving the omelette. Stevie was sitting at the coffee table eating cornflakes with the dog lying nearby keeping a watchful eye for any errant cornflakes that might fall on the floor.
As she sat at the table, Gemma’s foot brushed something metallic. She stooped and picked up the offending item, a small toy car. She turned it over in her fingers absent-mindedly as Amber placed her plate in front of her. ‘Last night, Amber,’ she began.
Amber’s eyes flitted to Stevie as if to say Gemma should be careful of the topic with Stevie there although the four year seemed completely absorbed by his toy cars that he pushed around beside his cereal bowl.
‘Yes?’ Amber said, pouring two cups of coffee from the percolator.
‘When I came out of the bedroom, I saw you feeding Benji something.’
‘Oh yeah,’ Amber said indifferently.
‘Well, what did you give him?’ Gemma took tried a forkful of omelette. It was delicious.
Amber didn’t reply for a moment seemingly preoccupied with stirring her coffee. ‘Oh, it was a piece of beef jerky.’
‘Beef jerky? Where did you get that from?’
‘Oh, I had a bit in my handbag. Benji was pretty shook up, so I gave him treat to calm him down, you know?’
‘But, you’re a vegetarian.’
Amber looked up from her coffee smiling ‘Not a very good one, I do lapse sometimes. Why do you ask?’ her eyes flitted to the toy car in Gemma’s hand then she looked over at Stevie. ‘Have you finished your cornflakes, Stevie? Do you want any more?’
‘No thank you, Amber,’ Stevie replied without looking up.
She looked at Gemma, ‘How’s the omelette, hon?’
‘Oh, it’s lovely,’ she enthused, then caught Amber looking again at the toy car in her hand.
She looked down at it herself, did a double take, and frowned. ‘This toy car. I don’t remember seeing it before.’
‘Stevie’s got lots of them, are you sure?’ Amber said lightly.
The car was familiar but not as a toy. ‘This is a Honda Civic.’
‘You know your cars,’ Amber said.
‘No, you don’t understand – it’s a blue Honda Civic — that’s the same car Craig drives — the same colour too,’ she held it up to look at it more closely. ‘That’s funny.’
‘What?’
‘This toy car has a license plate. They don’t put license plates on toy cars, do they?’
‘I don’t know,’ Amber said. ‘It’s not Craig’s license plate, is it?’ she gave a nervous laugh.
‘I don’t know his license plate number. He only got the Honda a couple of months ago.’
Stevie, hearing the talk of toy cars came over to the table and Gemma handed the small blue car to him.
Amber leaned forward. ‘Do you know what I think, hon?’
‘What?’ Gemma asked, sipping her coffee, still perplexed at the strange discovery.
‘I think the less you think about that . . . him, the better.’
Gemma shook her head, and grinned. ‘You’re absolutely right. I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me this morning.’
‘There’s nothing wrong with you,’ Amber quipped. ‘You’re perfect.’ She gave a Gemma a wink. ‘C’mon, let’s finish up breakfast and go for a walk. It’s gorgeous out. A beautiful new day for a beautiful new start.’
‘Yes,’ Gemma agreed discarding her troubled concerns, for it was a beautiful new day and it did feel like a new start in her life had begun.
Stevie, on the floor, played with his toy cars while his mummy and her new friend were in the kitchen clearing up the dishes. He especially liked the small blue car his mummy had handed him at the table. It was his newest toy car. Amber had given it to him this morning while his mummy was still sleeping. He held it in one hand while in his other, was his favourite car, which was red.
The best car game he liked to play was crashing them, and he now placed both cars on the floor and hurled them together to create a violent head on collision.
Stevie gave a small whoop of joy as he saw his favourite, the red one, had come off the winner for it still stood on four wheels. The blue car was over on its side. As he picked it up, he noticed something odd about it and looked closer. Two tiny white bags like small balloons had appeared inside the toy car on the front seats. That was strange. None of his other toy cars had done that when he crashed them. He was about to show it to his mummy when Amber called him over to get dressed to go out for a walk.
Benji was running about excited at prospect of going out and Stevie noticed as she was getting ready his mummy was singing a song. It was a long time since he remembered his mummy singing and looking so happy and Stevie wondered why. Perhaps it was something to do with her new friend. Stevie liked Amber. She was nice to him. When he’d woken up he’d asked her if they were going to go out trick or treating, and Amber had explained that Halloween was over now but next year he would definitely go trick and treating. Stevie told her he knew what he was going to dress up as – a monster – and mummy would dress up as a witch. Amber said that would be scary to see. Not that scary, Stevie had told her -it was only make pretend, because there was no such thing in real life as monsters and witches was there? Mummy had told him that. Amber had just smiled.