by Oliver EADE
“He still stabbed her. Comes to the same thing. I don’t trust him an inch. Or you… or God for that matter!”
The door opened. Beetie stood staring at Gary, her face wet with tears. She wiped the back of her hand a few times across both cheeks to dry them, as if those tears were unspoken words to be kept hidden from him. Redfor got up, evidently feeling he would be in the way. Held by the girl’s gaze, Gary had no idea what to say or do. He suddenly felt hollow and worthless confronted by such beauty.
“I’ll leave you two,” said Redfor, “but Gary, if you won’t believe me I beg you to believe Beetie.”
He brushed past Beetie and disappeared into the living room without another word.
“Beetie?”
The girl turned briefly to check the door was closed.
“Gary, can we go somewhere more private?”
“Upstairs?”
He led her up to the bedrooms in silence, terrified of saying the wrong thing and widening the rift. He spied his parents’ things on the bed of one of the rooms and went in. Beetie followed.
“You can shut the door,” Gary said, softly. “It’s okay. Redfor told me stuff though I’m not sure what he says is true. Oh Beetie, I’m so sorry for the way I behaved in the taxi. I was only trying…”
She held a finger to her lips to shush him, calmly closing the door.
“Gary?”
“Am I forgiven? Here, let’s sit on the bed! Please!” Gary now thought carefully about every word he uttered. “I won’t bite! Tell me what the old bloke... erm... I mean what... um... what God said to you.”
Beetie sat on the bed, her hip touching his.
“Gary, I love you. I didn’t understand the things happening inside me. They frightened me, but that’s all it was. I love you. God explained everything. It’s just like those beautiful poems the Chairman used to recite to me in the Hatcheries, only with you it’s true.”
Speechless, Gary wasn’t prepared for this. Of course he, too, was crazy about the girl. Flustered, he made a brave attempt to reciprocate:
“I know… I mean, well… how you feel. Like… well… sort of…”
Do shut up, you stupid prat! his mind begged. This is why you’re here, why you went back for her twice, why you bloody risked your life for the girl and why poor old Mike is stuck somewhere in the future. Mike wouldn’t faff about like you, you idiot!
“Look, Beetie, I… well… I…”
Beetie turned and threw her arms around him and kissed his face, his forehead, his cheeks… and finally his lips. He drew her down across the bed and held her close as her soft, searching mouth pressed against his, and he felt his whole body respond to her warmth and her caresses whilst his frantic hands traced and fondled the contours of her magnificent body. After a brief eternity of bliss, they pulled apart. Gary held her head gently between both hands. He wished he might fall into those amazing blue eyes and vanish forever.
“So do I,” he said, awkwardly. “I mean I love you, too. Yeah! I’m sure! I love you! I love you, I love you, I love you!” Beetie laughed and kissed him again. “So… what now? Keep you out of harm’s way, I guess. Look... this God guy... what did you make of him? Is he to be trusted? His side-kick, Redfor, seems as shifty as hell.”
For a moment Beetie appeared troubled. Those eyes were trying to hide something from him.
“What is it?” he asked.
“He… he’s all right. I remembered more and more of the old days in the Hatcheries as God spoke to me. I had a mother, you know.”
“Yeah! I heard. God’s wife… which makes you his step-daughter.”
Beetie grinned.
“Say that again!” she begged.
“Step-daughter. Why?”
“It… um… sort of makes me feel like a real person. Not like one of those doll girls the Chairman was turning me into.”
“Oh, you’re real all right, Beetie. And…”
“What?”
“Dunno the right word. Mike’s the words guy. ‘Strong’... I suppose.”
“Strong? Like Arthry, you mean?”
Gary laughed.
“Not the right word! No, strong inside. Complete, maybe?” They both laughed. “Beetie, Arthry’s not what he seems.”
“What do you mean?”
She frowned.
Oh, dear, thought Gary, gone and said the wrong bloody thing!
“A traitor.”
“Traitor? What’s that?”
“He’s been with The Agenda all along. He tried to…”
Beetie turned her face away.
“No, Gary. You’re wrong. You’ve got it all wrong.”
“All?”
Beetie beamed reassurance, taking his hands in hers, kissing first one then the other.
“Well... not all. But Arthry? No way! He’s been a father to me. God told me.”
Gary couldn’t help thinking these people had no concept of mother or father. He had a lot to teach her.
“Gary?”
“Uhuh!”
“Gary… tonight… you won’t hurt me when we’re together… as God said we must be… will you? God insists we share a bed. Like all night long. That you’d hold me... and... well, do what I yearned for you to do in the Retreat?”
Gary’s mind raced ahead with carnal thoughts, his mind’s eye defining the curves of that beautiful body under the girl’s clothes as his hands had moments earlier, and he hated himself for thinking these things.
Closeness is what she meant, not sex, and you’d better respect that, Gary O’Driscoll!
But his body wouldn’t allow him to erase the sex.
“No,” he said, lightly stroking the soft, smooth skin of her cheeks with the back of his hand before running his fingers through her long, blond hair. “I could never hurt you! All night long, he said? Just hold you?”
He wondered where he’d find the strength to honour such respect. How could he lie with a girl like Beetie and not give in to the inner lust screaming to be let out? Or did God also have the unthinkable in mind when he’d spoken with Beetie? If so, why?
God and Redfor had left when they went downstairs. Mr and Mrs O’Driscoll sat by themselves in the living room.
“Such a lovely old man,” said Mrs O’Driscoll, her face also wet with tears.
“He’s Beetie’s step-dad,” replied Gary. “She only found out today.”
He turned to Beetie, again unsure whether he’d said the right thing, but the girl appeared to have other thoughts on her mind.
“I’m sorry you lost your daughter,” she said at last before sitting on the sofa. “Must be the worst thing in the world to lose someone you love.” She flashed a glance at Gary.
“A hurt you can never get rid of, my dear,” agreed Gary’s mum. “Never!”
“What was she like, your sister?” Beetie asked Gary.
Gary sat beside her, looked at his parents and chuckled.
“A monkey, right? A loveable monkey!”
They, too, laughed.
“Full of life’ is a better description,” corrected Gary’s dad. “Had us in fits most of the time. Remember when she told a bald man on the train he should put seeds on his head… and he replied he’d not want to go to work with green hair? Oh, how she giggled!”
“Must be the most wonderful thing to have a child, but…” Beetie paused. A dark shadow dulled her pretty face for a second. She flicked a glance at Gary. “But only with the one you love, I think.”
Gary blushed.
“You must both be hungry!” Mrs O’Driscoll announced. “We’ll get a bite to eat along Golders Green Road. Chinese?”
“Chinese?” Beetie queried.
Gary couldn’t recall having seen any Chinese people in the London of the future.
“You’ll like Chinese food,” he assured her. “Even better than pizza. Only you’ll need a couple of sticks to eat with!” The girl’s enthusiasm showed in her grin.
“I’ve booked another room, so you and Dad can share tonight
, Gary,” his mum said.
Gary eyes travelled from his mum to his dad and to Beetie. He didn’t know how to put into words what the girl had said earlier, and again wished Mike was there to help him out. Of course he’d respect the girl, but he’d understand if they found this hard to believe. After all, spending a night – another night – with a girl with Beetie’s looks... how on earth could he explain?
“I… well… you and Dad won’t want to be separated, will you, Mum? Not a good idea. Not tonight.”
“Gary… what... what are you…?”
Mrs O’Driscoll stared aghast at her son. The thing he implied was unthinkable.
“Gary’s right,” Beetie interrupted quietly. “Before you joined us, God said Gary mustn’t let me out of his sight tonight. So terribly important… tonight… and us being alone together.” The girl was looking down at the floor. “He promised me that Gary would… would be gentle. Take care of me. He said…” She looked up. Gary’s own eyes moistened when he saw the tears at the corners of her eyes. “He said we must come together.”
“But…” began Mrs O’Driscoll, looking sideways at Mr O’Driscoll, “but Gary’s only…”
“She’s right,” intervened Gary’s dad. “Like she says, it was all decided before you came in to join us, dearest. Things are happening way beyond our comprehension and these two young people need time and space together. Tonight, as Beetie said, is the night.”
Tonight’s the night? Time and space? Well put, Dad! Not even Mike could’ve done better. All about time and space. Or no space at all between Beetie and me... tonight.
Gary sat down and firmly crossed his legs.
Later, after the boy had changed out of the smelly tramp clothes and showered, everyone went for a Chinese buffet along the Golders Green Road, Beetie amusing them all with her valiant attempts to use chopsticks. They returned to the B & B and watched a third-rate movie on telly, although Gary merely stared at moving figures on the screen, heard without listening strings of words that registered nothing in his head as he thought of the night ahead.
‘It has to be,’ she said. What has to be? Is it what I think… or what I want to think?
His whole body seemed on fire set alight by the girl sitting beside him.
“Should turn in now,” said Mr O’Driscoll when the movie was finished. He stretched and yawned with exaggerated theatricality. “Good night, you two young things!”
He winked at Gary and for the first time Gary realised his dad understood him better than he understood himself. He felt a surge of fondness for the man and barely managed to suppress the urge to jump up and hug him. He regretted not having talked more to his dad about his thoughts, his feelings… about girls… about sex. His mum said nothing. Tight-lipped, she followed her husband out of the room, leaving Beetie and Gary alone.
Gary turned off the telly. Beetie sat with her eyes fixed on the floor but looking at nothing in particular. She glanced nervously up at the boy.
“Will it hurt?” she asked again.
Hurt? How would I know? Hurt Beetie? No, no, I can’t do it. Can’t go through with this. Mike, oh Mike, what should I do? Oh Beetie, for Christ’s sake please don’t cry.
Tears streamed down the girl’s pale cheeks. Gary took her in his arms and kissed those tears, tasting their salt, tasting the girl, and flames inside him leapt like fire doused in petrol. He had the key to their room in his pocket, their room for the night and the key to his future, Beetie’s future, the key to a destiny he could no longer deny. He took her by the hand and led her up the stairs, opened the door, and they entered, hand-in-hand. He closed the door and shut out the world, leaving the key in the lock. He and Beetie were at last totally alone together. The flames roared, burning away the uncertainty, the guilt.
Guilt? His religion, pre-marital sex, the whole conundrum about contraception, confession… these things hovered like wisps of mist at dawn, but soon vanished, leaving only a hurricane of passion as he enveloped Beetie in his arms and kissed her with a frenzy that frightened even himself.
“Will it?” Beetie asked again when, arms still linked, their bodies finally separated. “Hurt? The preparatory lesson the Chairman forced me to watch was so horrible. I swore I’d never…”
The sick bastard, thought Gary, his anger fanning the flames of passion. He had no idea why pain should be involved, but his knowledge of sex was limited to biological details plus the intensity of unfulfilled desire for girls. Now it involved Beetie, himself and an unquenchable fire in a strange bedroom. Did the girl also have a fire inside her, he wondered?
“I could never hurt you, Beetie. Please, please don’t cry.”
Beetie gesticulated at the en-suite bathroom.
“First I must… um… take a shower. God said.”
Gary grinned.
“Yeah! Cool, Beetie. A shower!”
“How, Gary? I’ve never used one before. They only have shared bath-tubs in the Hatcheries.”
“Oh! Sure! Erm… I’ll show you.”
She followed him into the bathroom where he spent ages fiddling with the shower controls, anxiously adjusting the temperature to perfection.
“Mustn’t burn your…”
He turned. His mouth remained open as the next word bounced around in his mind. Beetie stood before him with nothing on at all… so shy... so unbelievably gorgeous.
“...your… erm… skin,” he added in a whisper.
He’d seen photographs of naked women, but in no way had they prepared him for the beauty of the girl; they’d given him no answers as to how he should respond to the turmoil this caused in his own body.
“Tell me if… um... if the water’s too… er… h-h-hot,” he stuttered, his eyes trying not to blink for fear of missing one split second of the heavenly vision.
Beetie smiled.
“I’m sure it’ll be fine if you’ve checked the temperature yourself,” she said stepping into the shower.
Okay, Mike. I know what to do! Don’t think I don’t. Just because you only thought about Emma Pearson’s tits and I... er... tits? Oh boy! Oh wow! Beetie’s tits!
He hurriedly undressed, sat on the bed, once again trapping his swelling desire between crossed legs, embarrassed by the effects unfettered thoughts had on that vital appendage. Did he really know what to do? He heard the shower go off. Beetie appeared in the doorway, dripping wet and giggling, water glistening her divine body.
“What do I do now?” she asked.
Mike! God! Someone help me!
Gary jumped up. Passing with his back to her for fear she’d object to his erection, he went into the bathroom. No towel!
“Damn!” he muttered as Beetie, right behind him, started to shiver through her giggles. He searched the cupboards and finally found a large fluffy pink towel. He held this out for Beetie to run into, and began to rub her dry; rubbed her all over whilst she giggled and giggled. She allowed his hand to touch her smooth, warm skin and, when dry, she stopped giggling and looked up at him in silent, loving anticipation. He let the towel fall as rub became embrace, aware of his hands exploring those contours of bliss as if they were now disconnected from him but still sending messages to his brain more wonderful than anything he’d ever dreamt possible.
He should never have worried, he told himself afterwards. So easy, so natural… so unbelievably beautiful! When he asked, she assured him he hadn’t her hurt at all.
“Not one little bit. You were so gentle,” she replied as they continued to fondle and caress each other, both exhausted after such unbridled passion. Finally Gary fell asleep, Beetie’s arm about his waist, her face, her eyes, her incredible eyes, still there in his mind, her soft breathing like music to his ears.
He’d hoped for pleasant dreams… at least that night. Not to be! His mind danced from one nightmare to another, each worse than the last. Being eaten alive by gee-rats was one of the better ones, but none were as bad as the reality of waking up in bed alone, Beetie gone.
He sprang from the
bed and rushed to the bathroom. Empty! He hopped about as he struggled into his jeans, only to discover the time-specs were missing from his pocket.
“Jesus Christ, Beetie,” he swore, “what’ve you gone and done?”
On the way to the door he checked the bags of clothes and the rucksack, for the girl’s top and jeans lay strewn on the floor of the bathroom where she’d left them the night before. The yellow and blue dress and the blue hair-band she’d been wearing when he rescued her from the Hatcheries were missing, together with the pair of high-heeled shoes he’d bought for her the previous day.
He ran down the stairs, two at a time, and burst into the dining room. The B&B proprietress hovered behind his mum and dad, about to serve their breakfast.
“BEETIE! SHE’S GONE FROM OUR BED! WHERE THE HELL IS SHE? HAVE YOU SEEN HER?” he yelled.
His mum turned scarlet. She grinned sheepishly at the proprietress whose expression spelt danger.
“What the…?” the woman began.
“Same bed? Oh, he gets these funny dreams. The girl’s probably gone for a walk,” suggested Mrs O’Driscoll. She scowled and nudged Gary’s dad. “Have a word with Gary, for God’s sake!” she whispered.
The man let out a sigh and pushed his chair away from the table. Taking Gary by the arm he ushered him from the dining room into the hallway.
“Not very clever, Gary! The woman’ll go bananas if she thinks we let you and the girl spend the night together. You’re supposed to be brother and sister! Remember?”
“Dad, she’s bloody gone! Taken the time-specs. Gone back to them. Don’t you understand what this means? Don’t you care?”
“Gary! Get a grip! Look… we’d better go upstairs! Out of earshot.”
“No! Outside! I’m gonna look for her… gotta find her.”
Gary’s dad followed him out of the front door, along the path to the pavement. The boy scanned the street in both directions. Not a soul! A typical quiet Sunday morning!
“BEETIE! BEETIE!” he shouted... over and over and over again.
She was gone. He checked his pockets, in case he’d been wrong about the specs, in case he’d missed them with his first frenzied fumbling. No specs, but his fingers touched a crumpled piece of paper. He never put bits of paper in his pocket. He opened it out and stared at the girlish writing: