She looked incredibly striking in a short floral dress with buttons up the front which made the most of her long, shapely legs. A straw trilby hat was perched on the back of her head which gave her outfit a cute but quirky edge. She was also wearing Ray-Bans, although hers were white, to match her simple leather sandals. A floppy overnight bag was hooked over one shoulder.
Claudette held onto the trilby as she ran to meet him, a broad, white grin on her delighted face.
As she reached out to him, he swept her up in his arms and span her round, their lips pressed together.
Christ it was good to see her. Had it only been a week?
“Did you miss me?” She asked giggling happily as he finally set her down and embraced her properly.
“Like one of my limbs was missing,” he replied. “It was terrible.”
“Good, pleased to hear it,” she laughed, her rich accent distinctly African with a subtle French undertone.
“How did it go with your father?” He asked.
Claudette’s smile slipped only briefly as she replied. “About as well as I expected but at least he knows now and by the time I see him again he will have accepted it. With him, it’s all a matter of time, but it will be fine I’m certain of it.”
“I hope so. I wish I could have met him.”
“You will. Just let him digest things a bit first - in his eyes I’m still his little girl and it’ll take him a while to adjust. But don’t worry - he’ll come to love you, just like I do.”
“Not exactly like you do I hope,” Sam joked, “cos that might get a bit, you know, awkward.”
Claudette punched him playfully. “Yes, it certainly would,” she said.
The pair of them laughed as Sam took the overnight bag from her and slung it over his own shoulder.
“It’s a beautiful day,” he said, “so I thought rather than go back to the flat straight away we could perhaps do something instead - what do you say?”
“Sure,” Claudette replied, noticing for the first time the wicker hand basket at his feet. “What you got in mind?”
“Well, I know it’s kinda cheesy and a bit touristy - but how ‘bout we go for a punt on the river. It’ll be great out there today and later we could maybe moor up and have a picnic or something, how’s that sound?”
“Sounds great. Romantic. I love it,” Claudette replied, squeezing his hand affectionately.
“Good,” he said, a wry smile on his face as he nodded to the basket, “Cos Miriam packed us up a picnic just in case.”
Claudette looked at him with surprise. “Oh, got it all planned have you?”
“Sure have,” he said cryptically. “Just follow me ma’am.”
She giggled again, her interest piqued. “Very well, my good man,” she said in a plummy English voice, “then by all means, lead the way.”
As they headed off, neither noticed the man with the bleach blonde hair who had been on the same train as Claudette. He had been kneeling close by, listening to their conversation whilst pretending to tie his shoelaces and as soon as they had passed, he got up to follow.
***
Claudette looked as pretty as a picture lounging luxuriously on the low seat of the flat-bottomed boat. She had one hand dangling casually in the water as Sam stood at the rear and guided the punt down the River Cam using the long wooden pole that had been supplied with it.
At first, theirs had been one amongst many other such craft on the river, what with it being Cambridge and punting being one of the most popular tourist activities. Soon, though, Sam guided their boat further down river and before long they found themselves alone.
After a delightful hour or so, they began to search for a suitable spot to moor up and soon found the ideal place.
At a bend in the river, there was a hidden inlet, concealed from the casual observer by a large weeping willow tree that bent low into the water.
Just beyond lay a small patch of soft green grass that was bathed in sunlight and surrounded on the three remaining sides by trees and foliage to make it the perfect location for a very private, extremely romantic picnic.
Sam steered the punt over, ducking under the low hanging branches of the weeping willow before jumping ashore and tying off the boat using the long length of rope coiled at the bow.
Once it was secured, Sam helped Claudette hop ashore.
As she landed softly beside him, he happened to glance back up river to see another punt some distance away. It looked to be carrying maybe five or six men. Yet it was certainly not an uncommon sight on The Cam so he thought no more of it.
Besides, their little spot was secluded enough so it was doubtful they would be troubled by anyone.
With the other punt quickly forgotten, he took Claudette’s hand and led her through to the glade. As they walked, Sam thought how utterly idyllic it was. The perfect setting.
A bee was buzzing somewhere nearby as it went about its work, a butterfly fluttered past and the occasional chatter of summer bird song accompanied them as they stepped out into the small, sunlit patch of green.
The natural beauty of their surroundings made the perfect backdrop for what Sam had in mind. In fact, it could hardly have been bettered, as if something out of a fairy tale.
The faint scent of jasmine and honeysuckle, carried on the gentle breeze, drifted through the air as the two of them set about laying their blanket on the ground in the centre of the tranquil space.
As well as the blanket, Miriam had also packed a large tin foil parcel of sandwiches for them, together with a bottle of champagne and two glass flutes.
Upon seeing the champagne, Claudette’s curiosity was aroused and she felt a tingle of excitement in anticipation of what she hoped Sam might be intending.
“Champagne?” She queried. “Are we celebrating?”
Sam was caught slightly off guard by the question but rallied quickly. “I hope so, yes.”
“You know I’m pregnant, right?” His girlfriend smiled. “Which means no alcohol unfortunately.”
“It’s okay, I checked it with Miriam and she said one or two small glasses should be fine. But no more.”
“Oh, she did, did she?” Replied Claudette raising an eyebrow.
“Uh-huh,” Sam grinned. “And she should know cos she’s a student of medicine and top of her class.”
“She is at that.” Claudette agreed. “So, come on then - what is it we’re celebrating?”
“What, the baby’s not enough of a reason?” He replied, still smirking.
“Sure it is. But I think we celebrated that pretty good a week or so ago if I remember rightly - and I seem to recall you telling me that you and Vas went at it pretty hard last night too - something about you becoming a dad, wasn’t it?” She was laughing now, knowing that she had rumbled his plans.
“Okay, okay!” Sam said in defeat. “You got me. I give up.”
“So?” Claudette pressed, unable to prevent the delighted grin from spreading across her face. “Why the champagne?”
Sam was suddenly serious as he took Claudette by the hands and softly cleared his throat. “I’ll tell you why,” he said, looking deeply into her huge, dark eyes. “Because I was hoping that you, Claudette Sekibo, beautiful African goddess, would do me the great honour of becoming my wife.”
Claudette blinked with surprise, even though she had known - or hoped she knew - what he was intending. But actually hearing him say the words shocked her. Indeed, she found his proposal extremely moving and for a second was speechless.
“So, what I’m saying,” Sam continued, having received no immediate answer, “is will you marry me?”
Claudette blinked again and a solitary tear trickled down her cheek. Her exquisitely sculptured face seemingly carved from polished obsidian. “Yes,” she said huskily. “Of course I’ll marry you - yes, yes, yes!” Then she threw hers
elf into his arms and kissed him passionately.
A minute later they were both lying on the blanket in a loving embrace, Claudette enjoying the tender touch of Sam’s lips upon her long neck.
As she gazed up into the clear blue sky, she could not help but be amazed by the splendour of British Summertime in all its abundant glory; the warm sun shining down upon them, the birds singing brightly and the sweet smell of the lush green grass spread out like a carpet beneath them.
In that moment, she had never been happier in her whole life. Being there with the man she loved in their own small patch of heaven - it was as if she was in a wonderful dream the likes of which she could never have previously imagined.
When Sam had finished with her neck, he lifted his head and found her mouth once more. Claudette, already aroused, eagerly greeted his tongue with her own and the passion instantly ignited between them.
Then there, in the glade on that glorious afternoon, without a care in the world, they stripped off their clothes and made love.
Afterwards, they lay happily entwined, breathing heavily and recovering from their exertions, her bare legs still wrapped around his naked buttocks, both lost in a blissful, post coital glow.
Indeed, they were so caught up in the simple joy of being with each other that neither were aware of the six men watching them from the edge of the glade.
Chapter Two
Locke’s team picked him up outside the station. Two he had worked with before and knew them to be reliable. They, in turn, had recruited the other three who had been specifically chosen because of their taste for the work involved.
All of them were vicious, sadistic brutes but that is what the contract required, although Locke was the only one who knew the full details of it. The others had simply been hired to do a job and it was work they were sure to enjoy.
The men had followed at a discreet distance.
A few minutes after the young couple, Locke and the two men he knew also rented a punt. They picked up the other three men a little way down river so as not to attract any unwanted attention.
But all the time Locke had kept his sights on the other boat, never letting it get too far away whilst maintaining a suitable space apart.
Indeed, he deliberately hung back for a while to allow the couple to settle ashore, suspecting the lovers had found a secluded spot to be alone. He knew from eavesdropping on their conversation at the station that they were intending to have a picnic.
By the time Locke directed the punt towards the water’s edge, all the men were pumped up and thirsting for action; the sight of the beautiful young black woman feeding their appetites for what was yet to come.
As Locke eased the boat under the hanging bows of the weeping willow, they all bent low so as not to disturb the branches any more than absolutely necessary, using stealth to optimum advantage.
One by one they quietly jumped ashore. The last man cut free the other punt and cast it adrift. He watched it float away with the current as he gathered up the freshly cut rope, which he then took with him as he went to join the others.
Then together they made their way silently towards the little glade. As they approached, the men could hear the sound of the couple making love; her groans of pleasure giving them cause to smile at each other.
Soon they, too, would give her reason to groan.
Before stepping out into the open space beyond the trees, Locke paused briefly to pick up a fallen branch. It was of a good weight, maybe four feet long and as thick as his forearm.
It would do nicely.
Then the six of them moved soundlessly into the glade and spread out in a line; Locke holding the branch and the last man still in possession of the rope from the cast off punt.
The others were all armed too.
One had a length of chain, another had a bat. The third pushed a set of polished knuckle dusters over his gnarled fingers whilst the fourth clicked open the blade of his flick-knife.
But the sound was not enough to disturb the naked young couple who were noisily reaching the climax of their love-making just a few feet away from where the men stood watching.
When, at last, the couple finished, they lay breathlessly together, his pale skin pressed against the dark ebony of hers, both with their eyes closed and oblivious to their gathered audience.
Locke then nodded his head and the men moved forward as one.
Claudette heard them first.
The slightest of sounds caused her to open her eyes with alarm, her body stiffening as she saw the group of men standing over them.
Sam could see that Claudette was suddenly scared, her eyes flying wide with terror. He turned, but was too late to react as Locke swiped down with the hefty tree branch.
It hit Sam hard on the side of the head, the terrific force of the blow sweeping him clean off Claudette and knocking him onto the ground beside her.
He was dazed, the world suddenly swimming as strange men swarmed around them. Claudette was screaming, the man with the branch beating her repeatedly with it.
Sam reached out to her in a desperate attempt to help, yet as he stretched out his hand, the heel of a heavy boot stamped down on it and crushed it into the ground.
He wailed in agony as Claudette continued to scream.
But then Sam was hit again and everything went black.
***
Sam awoke to the pain of being viciously kicked and punched in the midst of a furious, frenzied attack; terrible agony shooting through his naked body as fists and boots slammed into him.
He screwed himself up into a ball in an effort to escape the bombardment but the brutal assault continued unabated with hard, devastating blows repeatedly striking his back, legs, ribs and face.
Eventually a gruff voice shouted, “Hold him!” And suddenly his limbs were being dragged forcefully apart. He tried to fight but he was dazed and badly hurt, his struggles ineffectual as several men held him down with his arms and legs splayed.
Through blurred vision, he saw a blonde-haired man standing over him, semi-silhouetted against the bright blue sky. He was holding a long-bladed knife with a brass knuckle guard attached to the hilt, its keenly polished steel gleaming in the sunlight.
“Keep him still!” The man barked and Sam felt his arms and legs being gripped more firmly in response to the command.
Then, the man struck down with lightning fast speed, attacking like a cobra as the blade of the knife stabbed into Sam’s extended right forearm, slicing through to the soft green grass below.
Sam wailed with excruciating agony as the world around him started to whirl and close in.
The pain was unbearable as the man pulled the bloody steel free.
Sam was still screaming wildly, yet he could not help but watch, transfixed with terror as his assailant lifted the knife high once more; the blood lust in his eyes clear to see as he paused for a second, before plunging the blade deeply into Sam’s left forearm with the same savage force.
The terrible injury left Sam reeling, the tears streaming down his cheeks as his screams gurgled in his throat.
He was only barely conscious when the blonde-haired man stabbed him through the left thigh; the pain of it made less severe as oblivion washed over him.
By the time the knife punctured Sam’s right thigh, the pain had gone completely and the darkness had claimed him once more.
***
When Sam roused again he was sitting on the grass, slumped against the trunk of a fallen tree, his head pounding and his body wracked with terrible pain.
One eye was swollen shut whilst the other, although badly bruised, opened just enough to allow him to see.
He was naked and covered in blood. His right hand and at least three of his fingers broken.
The pain from the slit-like stab wounds in his forearms and thighs was almost unbearable; blood pumpin
g steadily from the ghastly injuries and his limbs heavy and useless.
He was dazed and confused, but then suddenly, in a flash of dreadful realisation, he remembered Claudette.
Fighting to stay conscious, Sam used every ounce of strength he could muster to lift his throbbing head, before eventually seeing his fiancé in the centre of the glade several yards away.
She was naked and on all fours; her tear-stained face badly bruised, her nose and lips bloody as six men in various states of undress held her down.
Sam was horrified yet powerless to do anything but watch as they looped a chain around her throat and pulled it tight like a dog leash to keep her from struggling.
Then, as he looked helplessly on, they raped her, taking turns, sometimes two and three at a time; their evil features burning into Sam’s brain as they all brutally violated the woman he loved.
Two of the men were skinheads. The first had a harelip and the second a bulldog tattoo on his bicep.
The third was swarthy with a gold tooth and a scar shaped like a crescent moon on his cheek, whilst the fourth was older with white hair and pale skin which gave him an albino-like appearance.
In stark comparison, the fifth was wiry with long red hair and a ginger moustache.
The last, however, was the man who had stabbed Sam in the arms and legs. He was tall and imposing with bleached blonde hair and a supremely impressive physique. He also appeared to be the leader of the bunch.
As Sam looked on, unable to move, his limbs totally useless, the red haired man eventually climbed to his feet and pulled up his trousers.
Tucking his shirt back into them, he then wandered curiously over to where Sam was slumped.
“Oi, Finchy!” The skinhead with the harelip called. “Where you going?”
“Hey, no names!” Barked the blonde leader.
“Give him a break, Locke,” replied Finchy, “This one’s almost dead anyway so what’s it matter?”
“That’s not the point,” Locke snapped, “Do as I say - or you’ll be joining him, understand?”
Perfect Day Page 2