Chapter 2: Wednesday 6th May.
This was the night before Debbie’s banking exam and she was, as usual, seated at the table surrounded by her books and notepads.
Lynda had gone to bed earlier, as she was feeling unwell.
Marcie had gone out to work.
Aleesha and Rachel were out with friends leaving me alone with Debbie in the living room.
I was trying to concentrate on the television, but the thumping from Debbie’s calculator grew louder and louder distracting me until she suddenly threw it violently towards the kitchen door and cried, “Shit, I can’t do this!”
I sprang to my feet and rushed to hug Debbie as she covered her head with her hands. “I can’t do this anymore.”
She sobbed quietly as I cradled her head on my shoulder stroking her hair to comfort her whispering. “Of course you can.”
“You’re just tired and trying to cram too much in at the last minute making yourself confused, so, get off to bed, switch your mind off and in the morning you’ll wake refreshed and with a clear head you’ll sail through this exam.
If anybody can do it - you can.” I assured her.
She stared deep into my eyes for reassurance then kissing me lightly on the lips she sighed, “I suppose you’re right.”
Slipping from my embrace she then left the room.
Resuming my place on the sofa I realised I had a deep affection for Debbie as I thought about her warm kiss for a few minutes until the door clicked open and she slowly re-entered.
Debbie crossed to the kitchen door where I noticed she had removed the clasps that held her blonde hair in place and as she stooped to pick up her discarded calculator, she sighed.
“I’m really sorry about that.” She checked there was no damage before placing it onto the table beside her textbooks.
Leaning onto the back of the sofa, making her chest stand out, she gazed down at me. “I really appreciate the help you’ve given these past weeks,” she whispered as she crossed to stand by my side,
“I really, really appreciate it.”
“You’re very welcome,” I mumbled as she leaned forward to cover my mouth with hers kissing me passionately.
She placed her right hand, to steady herself, onto my left shoulder as I massaged her neck with my right hand and, while we kissed, Debbie moved slowly around the front of the sofa gently coming to sit in my lap.
We kissed passionately for a few minutes until I, reluctantly, removed my lips from hers whispering, “We shouldn’t be doing this.”
“You’re right,” she whispered breathlessly, “indeed, we should not.”
A few minutes of kissing later, I came up again for air.
“I mean,” I tried more forcefully, “We really mustn’t.”
“You’re so right,” she agreed, “we really mustn’t.”
I was so enchanted by her I held her very tightly and just could not let her go.
“We have to stop now,” I breathlessly protested, “Stop it now!”
“Why?” she asked.
There were more than a million reasons why we should not be kissing, but I really could not think of one valid reason why not at that precise moment.
“We can’t do this here.” I pleaded.
“You’re so right,” she giggled, “Let’s go to your room.”
A few moments later we made our way, hand in hand, towards my room trying not to make a sound should someone overhear.
Once inside my quarters Debbie became possessed with a wild frenzy and, seemingly, in one movement she quickly discarded her blouse and skirt.
I fumbled with a button or two of my shirt, but my hands trembled so much I couldn’t get any purchase on any of my buttons as Debbie’s soft lips, again, met mine.
I was breathless, as she stood naked before me kissing me while helping to loosen my shirt buttons.
Within a few moments my shirt joined her blouse on the floor and Debbie hastened to undo my belt to remove the remainder of my clothing.
When my trousers were loose Debbie stepped backwards to rest upon the bed. I found I couldn’t move as my ankles were bound together and I clumsily tried to force my socks and shoes off while attempting to appear suave and seductive.
Debbie smiled as she watched me struggle.
Within a few minutes we were making love and I realised I was deeply in love with her and within a further few minutes she started to scream.
I put my hand over her mouth to stifle the noise and then grabbing the pillow forced it over her face to smother the sound should someone overhear.
Then the weirdest thing happened!
The screaming abruptly ceased.
Her legs loosened their grip on me and fell heavily onto the bed with a thud.
Her hands fell limply onto her chest as HER BREATHING STOPPED!
“My God, I’ve killed her,” I whispered as I removed the pillow from her face and began to panic easing myself from her wondering what to do next.
“She can’t be,” I sobbed in disbelief feeling her neck trying to locate her jugular vein, but my fingers trembled so much I couldn’t feel anything, so I grabbed her left wrist, to check if she had any pulse, but, I abandoned that idea for the same reason.
I lifted my face to hers to see if I could feel any breath, but as I was breathing heavily this proved to be another pointless exercise so I placed my hand between her breasts hoping to find her heart.
I had no difficulty in locating my own heart, as it pounded loudly, but I could neither feel any beat, nor any pulse by placing my palm under her left breast.
I was convinced that she was dead until I altered my position to listen between her breasts when she gasped and I could feel them gently rise and fall as she breathed very peacefully.
I let out a long sigh of relief as I rolled from her thanking God that she was still with us and the panic began to subside.
I believed she had just passed out and was now in a deep, peaceful sleep as I lay on my side looking at her chest gently rise and fall for a few minutes speculating Debbie’s breasts were quite a few pounds heavier than, my lover, Tracey’s.
I gently adjusted her small silver crucifix onto her chest and as I did so I noticed her whole facial expression change back to the Debbie I knew and loved. I realised, with horror, that the girl sleeping soundly beside me was not the person with whom I had made love.
A great feeling of remorse came upon me as I figured that she must have some kind of split personality and this was the only possible explanation for our encounter.
The insane panic I felt earlier grabbed hold of me again.
‘If she wakes up tomorrow in my bed and doesn’t remember a thing about this, I’m dead’.
“Oh my God,” I mumbled as I examined the possibilities.
I will be done for rape - Tracey, my girlfriend, would kill me - Rachel would knock me senseless and then sue me - Marcie would throw me out into the street.
I stared in disbelief at the girl beside me who was very still and peaceful except for the rhythmic rise and fall of her breasts, and an insane resolve possessed me.
“If I carry her to her own bed I might just be able to deny it all happened.”
In the absence of any other suggestions this plan sounded plausible. I quickly donned the dressing gown Tracey had given me and gathering Debbie’s skirt and blouse I gingerly crept along the hallway to her room quietly opening her door.
As I switched on the light by the door, the sight greeting me left me horrified.
The entire room was a mass of furry animals of all shapes, colours and sizes – Teddies, Koalas, Frogs, Pandas and an assortment of stuffed dolls and toys.
This entire room was a shrine to Debbie’s childhood and I felt an uncontrollable feeling of guilt at making love with this 22 year-old girl who I now regarded as no more than a child.
Behind the door I found her bed, which was littered with more dolls and teddies, which tumbled to the floor as I turned down her quilt
, before returning to my own room to retrieve her body, which still slept soundly.
Debbie was as light as a feather when I scooped her up into my arms and cradled her while I crept silently to deposit her in her own bed. After tucking her in I kissed her forehead lightly and then crept back to my own room to spend a very uncomfortable night.
Thursday 7th May.
The following morning I had convinced myself that it was all a nightmare and almost believed I had dreamt the whole thing by the time I joined Marcie, Rachel and Lynda at the living room table as they crunched on their Cornflakes.
I fetched a bowl and poured my breakfast into it ignoring them.
All was quiet, except for the radio reminding us of the time and the occasional spoon on china, when the door suddenly burst open and Debbie quickly entered calling. “Has anybody seen my shoes?”
I almost choked on my cereal as I wondered if she had them on when she entered my room last night?
“Ah – there they are,” Debbie sighed as she spied them beneath her chair and hurriedly put them on.
Marcie was the first to speak, “Today’s the big day then?”
“I’m afraid so.” Came Debbie’s reply as she poured her breakfast into a bowl.
“I hope you do well.” Marcie continued, patting her arm.
Rachel looked up from a magazine and smiled. “All you need is confidence in your own ability - you know you can do it.”
“Course you can,” Lynda agreed, “best of luck kid.”
I mumbled my best wishes as she thanked us all saying.
“I can only do my best.”
Driving to work that Thursday morning I revelled in the presumption that I had gotten away with my ‘crime’ undetected, but no sooner had I reached my office desk than the telephone rang.
“Meet Me.” the mysterious female ordered.
“Where?”
“Under the clock in the Waverley Centre at Noon.” Came the reply.
I asked who she was, but she was gone and this phantom caller preyed on my mind all morning.
The voice sounded familiar, but was distorted beyond my recognition and I could hear very loud machinery in the background confusing me.
At noon, as instructed, I arrived at the Waverley Centre as the striking of the clock rang down my fate like a toll bell. I looked around for the face behind the voice and lit a cigarette to calm my nerves.
After a few minutes I finished my cigarette and turned around to read the festival billboards when there was a tap on my shoulder and I turned to find myself looking into the pair of green eyes I feared.
Lynda stepped back from me and landed a punch on my left cheek with such force that she almost broke my nose and glasses.
As I regained myself, holding my cheek, I innocently asked,
“What the hell was that for?”
“How could you?” She snorted, “how, the hell, could you?”
I felt the same remorse I had the previous evening return as she glared down at me and I frantically sought some explanations for my actions – but none came. All I could say was “I’m sorry.”
Lynda turned – she walked away a few paces - then turned back. “Sorry?” she shouted, “I’m not the one you should be sorry to.
The kid you want to feel sorry for doesn’t know a thing about what you did to her last night, you bastard.”
She turned her back to me covered her eyes and wept uncontrollably.
Every eye in the busy shopping mall was on me, as I stood dumbstruck until a police officer appeared at my side.
“Is there a problem here sir?”
I felt a tear roll from my eye as I whispered to him. “You’d better ask the lady.” expecting Lynda to lodge a complaint against me,
“Is there a problem here, miss?” He enquired.
She raised her head, took a deep breath and sighed,
“You wouldn’t understand - Nobody would.”
“Well,” continued the officer, “would you mind confining your arguments to the comfort of your own home?”
Lynda let out a loud “Huh!” while walking quickly towards the exit.
“Your wife, sir?” I shook my head. “Girlfriend? Sister? Lover?”
“Like the lady said, officer,” I sympathetically sighed as I ran after her,
“You wouldn’t understand and nobody would.”
I found Lynda seated on a bench in Princes Street weeping into a handkerchief beside two elderly vagrants.
I slowly walked up to her not knowing what to say to remedy the situation as one drunk was asking her if she was alright and showed his concern by offering her his bottle concealed in a brown paper bag.
To my amusement she accepted the bottle taking a mouthful of whatever and handed it back to him saying. “Thanks.”
The drunk sympathetically asked Lynda if she felt better as she raised her head from her handkerchief, took a deep breath, opened her glazed green eyes and noticed me standing before her.
She sobbed, “How could you?”
“Is that the bastard?” he asked concerned, “Don’t you worry hen, I’ll get him for you.”
He staggered to his feet for a fight, but Lynda grabbed him by an unsteady arm and held him back saying. “Don’t bother yourself, he’s not worth it.”
The drunk sat back down, as he had great difficulty remaining upright anyway, as Lynda sniffed wiping her nose repeating.
“How could you?” She blew her nose into the handkerchief.
“Rachel told you the day you moved in that we all have our weaknesses and problems, - Well, now you know Debbie’s problem.”
“I have no idea what you mean.” I pleaded as I tried to comfort her, keeping one eye on the drunk who was still willing to ‘have a go’ at me.
“Debbie,” she cried, “is the sweetest, kindest, most considerate kid that God ever made.
By day it would be very difficult to find a more adorable honest, or loveable angel, but sometimes, at night, she becomes possessed by a devil controlled by a lust that can only be satisfied by a sexual climax.”
The drunk listened intently - he could not believe what he was hearing, as I sat down on the other side of Lynda holding her hand, while she continued to explain.
“Debbie’s mother died the day she was born, and her father always blamed her for his loss, so, ever since she was a little girl he continuously raped her.” She sniffed continuously.
“The only way she could come to terms with the sexual abuse was to switch her mind off during the act, so much so that now she can’t control it.
If she feels frightened in any way her devil takes over until she climaxes - and then leaves her not knowing anything about it.”
Tears began flowing down Lynda’s cheeks as she spoke so I squeezed her hand to comfort her.
“Up ‘till now,” she continued, “I’ve managed to contain her devil and I have managed to protect her from doing something that could land her in a serious heap of trouble.
Last night when I heard her screaming I knew I was too late to help her and I lay there in tears while I heard you putting her to her bed.”
My heart bled for the poor kid, she must have gone through hell at the mercy of her father since the day she was born and I could feel tears of sympathy trickle down my cheeks as I stared into Lynda’s emerald green eyes.
“Debbie’s a really good kid,” she continued, “and I know you wouldn’t harm her, but, if her devil appears again will you remember that it’s not Debbie, and send her to me, please.”
I pulled Lynda towards me, hugged her tightly and promised I would not harm Debbie, but a thought had occurred to me,
“Tell me,” I asked quietly, “what about the times when you’re out or when you’re ‘entertaining’.”
Lynda taking a deep breath, forcing her from my embrace, leaned backwards to take another mouthful from the bottle.
“My God” she cried, tasting the contents for the first time, “what, in the name of God, is that?�
�� She peered into the bag to read the label. “Christ almighty!” she exclaimed, as she handed it back to the drunk who mumbled his gratitude as she turned towards me again.
“I don’t know if I should tell you this - but, that’s how we got into this mess in the first place - by nobody telling you.”
She paused to lick her lips, sniff and shudder as she tasted a droplet from the bottle, then she gazed deeply into my eyes and whispered quietly. “Rachel.”
“Rachel?” Now I was beginning to get confused as the drunk leaned over asking, “Who?”
Lynda ignored him as she continued.
“Whenever I am out of the house we have to make sure Rachel is there for Debbie, but she also has a secret. She is a…lesbian.”
I was speechless as we stared deep into each other’s eyes for a few seconds, until the silence was shattered by a loud ‘BANG’, as the one o’clock gun rang out from Edinburgh Castle. Causing us to jump back into reality and causing the drunk to drop his bottle, which smashed as it made contact with the concrete paving.
“Shit,” Lynda shouted as she ran off, “Must get back to work, I’ll see you later.” We watched her until she disappeared amongst the shoppers of ‘the royal mile’.
I took off my glasses, wiped my face with my palms and put them on again to look at the very confused drunk who stared forlornly at his shattered lunch before he sighed to his sleepy friend “and THEY think WE’VE got problems, Charlie.”
Charlie, woken with a start at the sound of the cannon, had missed the entire conversation. He had no idea to what his friend was referring as I took a ten-pound note out of my pocket and handed it to him saying, “This was for my lunch, you might as well have it.
Get yourself and Charlie something to eat.”
As I walked away they shouted their gratitude with “Thanks big man” – “you’re a real gentleman” – “I’ll say a prayer for you and your young lady tonight, son” – “I’ll light a candle for you on Sunday, Chief.”
All afternoon as I sat at my desk my mind reviewing what Lynda had revealed as feelings of sympathy for Debbie, admiration for Lynda and shock at Rachel clouded my thoughts.
“I knew from the start, Emily, that I would experience life in the ‘real’ world when I moved into this flat. I had no idea my eyes would be opened to the problems others have in this world.”
“This was the start of ME living in the ‘real’ world, Emily and it frightened me, Emily, it really frightened me.”
“I realise the names of these people don’t mean anything to you yet,” I apologised to Emily, “so I’ll fill you in on what has happened up until this point and at the end of each chapter will attempt to justify my actions.”
Diamonds by Brian Ritchie Page 4