Salt

by David Chambers

‘Nah. I might as well stick with you. They’re probably shit in bed anyway.’ Emma said.

  ‘Well at least I’m good for something then. Speaking of bikinis, why aren’t you in yours? There’s only so much time a man can spend at sea before he starts finding dolphins attractive.’

  ‘It’s in my bag. I’ll get it in a minute, I don’t want you turning to dolphins now do I?’ Emma said.

  ‘It’s always a hazard.’ Dan said slipping off his polo shirt.

  ‘Right I better put it on then if you’re stripping off. You better not be smuggling budgies under those shorts, otherwise I’ll be looking for a dolphin of my own.’

  ‘No budgies here today, just shorts. Now get that bikini on sexy.’ Dan said.

  Emma smiled as she turned and walked down the steps of the boat. She checked behind her and gave her bum a wiggle when she saw Dan was watching. ‘Eyes on the water you.’ She said disappearing from view.

  Dan looked back across the water and smiled to himself. He had seen her completely naked more times than he could count but the thought of her in a bikini still excited him. He knew she would look amazing and he knew that he would be too distracted to catch fish. He thought to himself that buying salmon and pork in Marks and Spencer had been a great idea because right now fishing was the last thing on his mind.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  He lay naked on the bed, a sheen of sweat glistened on his body, the quilt a scrunched-up pile on the floor. Dan usually got straight in the shower after sex but this time he had been a gentleman and let her go first. He could hear her singing above the noise of the running water. She sounded content and happy, just how he liked her. A feeling of ease came across him whenever she was relaxed and comfortable, it made him feel good to make her feel good. It wasn’t the first time he had felt this but it was the strongest. It made him feel more masculine when she could be herself, like he was providing a place for her to be her. It was the emotional equivalent of her being the little spoon when she wriggled back into him and held his arms tight around her. He loved to see her happy but sometimes when she seemed happy he looked into her eyes and saw a glimpse of darkness. It was like a candle in a dry forest, small and usually harmless but ready to engulf with a change of wind or careless hands. The smallest lock opened the cell where the darkness lay hidden.

  Dan didn’t need to look closely into her eyes to know what caused the darkness, he didn’t want to see but he couldn’t help it. He was there, always there. The man with no face who hurt her years ago. He had no face while having all faces. Not knowing what someone you hated looked like made him look like everyone you hated. It made him the stranger in the street, the guy you pass on the way to work. He could be anyone and part of Dan needed to see him just to give him a face while part of Dan needed to see him to make him pay for what he had done.

  Dan’s day dream stopped when Emma walked into the cabin, she was naked apart from a towel. He would be happy to see her wearing anything or even better, nothing. His shower could wait.

  ‘I know what you’re thinking and no. Shower first stinky.’ Emma said turning her back on him in mock shock.

  ‘Well that view won’t make me want you any less.’ Dan said.

  ‘Nope. Shower first and make sure it’s cold.’

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  Her eyes were wide, bulging in their sockets doing their best to escape her face. A face now purple with pain. The flesh of her neck was white where the brown fingers sunk into her throat. The hand pinned her to the bed, her hands clawing at the grip powerless to loosen his fingers. Her brain throbbed inside her skull, each heartbeat delivering a thud of pain as her body screamed out for air. Her entire being so focused on her need for oxygen that she didn’t notice the burning pain as he entered her. She would notice later and for days afterwards but right now she felt nothing more than a sharp sting. Her synapses fired repeatedly with only one message. ‘Get air. Get air. Get air.’ Over and over inside her mind.

  Finally, his grip relaxed and she sucked in a lung full of oxygen. Air that stunk of him. It tasted of his filth but was still the best air she had ever breathed. When you need air even the dirtiest, smelliest air will feel like an Alpine lake on a crisp day.

  His hand stayed on her throat, holding her down but letting her breathe. He hadn’t said anything but the message was clear, fight and don’t breathe or stay still and have air. She stayed still. He didn’t. His hips moved up and down on her, they weren’t the movements a lover makes. He moved like he had something on him he hated and needed to shake off. He had no face, no features just his gritted teeth standing out like an evil Cheshire Cat. He grunted and spat as he raped her. She lay beneath him, still and silent except for a whimper with each thrust. There were no tears, no cries from her as she lay there accepting her fate. Her fight had gone. Squashed out of her by his weight and strength, he was stronger than anyone she had met and she had no strength left.

  With one final thrust and grunt he finished. His angry grin turned into a look of disgust as climbed off her as if she was nothing. Just a distasteful task that needed to be completed like picking up dog shit. She lay still, unable to move. Her body and mind disconnected, the pain a distant ache drawing closer.

  The man turned to Dan and smiled. His face was someone and no one at the same time.

  Dan woke. His eyes took a moment to recognise he was in his bedroom. The bed sheets stuck to him as he pushed them off. He barely noticed the coldness of the teak flooring as he walked to the bathroom. He switched on the light and looked at himself in the mirror. He rubbed his bloodshot eyes to relieve the itching. He turned on the tap and bent over the basin, splashing cold water over his face. He towelled his face dry but couldn’t wash away the grinning man.

  He’d raped her and he’d hurt her but worst of all he had left her with the feeling that she had done something wrong. Whether it was the humiliation of what happened or something else that caused it but all these years she felt worse about herself because of him.

  Dan walked naked to his wardrobe, he took out his grey Nike shorts and a black Under Armour t shirt then socks and his Nike running shoes. He liked Nike but he always wore another item of clothing otherwise he felt like he looked sponsored. Last was his iPhone and headphones, they were black Beats which blocked out the world and were perfect for what he needed now.

  It was still dark outside, the sun a faint orange glow on the horizon. He walked along the pontoon, his phone illuminating his face like a child telling a ghost story. The cold air bit at his lungs, a pain he liked because it made him conscious of his lungs. He could feel each breath entering his body, he could feel the corners of his lungs filling and emptying and eventually the pain would fade as his body warmed. As he reached the solid ground of the harbour he clicked his headphones and iTunes came to life, it picked up where he left off with something from an Ibiza Annual. Dan began by walking, taking a few steps before moving to a slow jog. He increased his speed in the darkness between pools of streetlight, he didn’t feel like a warm up this morning and he certainly didn’t have the patience for stretches. He would ache later but the four on the floor beat urged him onwards. He soon found his rhythm and his feet propelled him forward. His breathing fell into time with his feet as it became automatic. One foot after the other, moving forwards. Shorter breaths than usual, in, in, in with each heel strike followed by out, out, out. It wasn’t how a professional would run but the rhythm had stuck with him since his cold school boy cross country classes. One foot after the next, keeping him running forward, breathe, breathe, breathe keeping him alive. Each stride moving him further away from his stress, each breath purging the negative thoughts from his body.

  His mind began to clear, this year’s Ibiza trend seemed to be saxophones and they blasted into his ears. A tune that would ordinarily be annoying came into its own when fuelled by ecstasy or endorphins. He jogged onwards, joining the main roads. They were quiet but not deserted. There were no pedestrians just occasional delivery va
ns, their lights illuminated him from behind, casting his shadow long across the pavement. His mind now cleared. He thought of nothing but each step, his brain was in that beautiful place where it’s active with nothing but primal tasks. He thought of nothing but staying upright and keeping going, the simple act of moving and breathing rhythmically wiped away the filthy residue left by his nightmare.

  Running always opened up his brain like this, he felt linked to a primal instinct. Running had been with us forever, it was how we caught food and how we avoided becoming food. Our bodies needed to run.

  Without warning, the grinning man was back. He swirled through Dan’s head like a shitty mist before his face swarmed into clarity. His grinning face as he defiled Emma and his look of complete disgust at her as she lay there unable even to cry. He had used her and left her with a scar that would never heal. Dan ran on, increasing his speed, trying to leave behind the look of indifferent contempt on the bastards face as he ruined her life.

  Dan pushed on, running harder determined to leave the face behind. His cadence increased until he was sprinting but still the face stayed. He felt like a fox being chased by hounds. Out running one then sensing a fresh dog’s snarl behind him. Chasing him until he collapsed from exhaustion to be ripped apart by hundreds of teeth.

  Dan stopped. His lungs burning, he closed his eyes and put his hands behind his head. Sucking in the air he needed. It was still fresh and cold but it now reminded him of how she must have felt with those fingers around her throat. The grin was back. He rested his forearms on the wall in front of him, his head dropping down. His lungs had stopped burning. he knew now that he couldn’t out run the grin. The face of the faceless man would be there whenever it wanted to be. We can’t control our thoughts and we can’t stop a thought from appearing. Dan understood this just as he understood that Emma’s thoughts would be much worse. For her the man had a face and for her he had done much more than be a bad dream.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  Dan lay on his back, the sheets to his naval. Emma lay on her side, her head resting on his arm, tucked under his armpit. It was how they lay when they weren’t spooning, it was easier to talk and felt just as intimate.

  ‘Can I ask you something?’ Dan said.

  ‘Anything you like.’ Emma said into his chest.

  ‘It’s about what happened.’

  ‘Ok.’ She dragged the second syllable. ‘What’s wrong?’ Emma asked.

  ‘Nothing’s wrong, I was just wondering about something.’

  ‘Well what were you wondering?’

  ‘Did you ever see him again?’ Dan asked.

  ‘Who?’

  ‘The guy. Whatever his name was. Jaz or whatever.’ Dan said.

  ‘Oh right. No. He vanished afterwards, didn’t even reply to emails.’ Emma said.

  ‘You emailed him?’ Dan asked.

  ‘Yeah. A couple of times. To tell him what I thought and stuff. I just wanted him to say sorry or something.’

  ‘Did you go to the police?’ Dan asked.

  ‘No.’

  ‘Why not?’ Dan asked.

  ‘Because I didn’t want to.’ Emma said. She always expected this question. Everyone would ask, it seemed so obvious unless it happened to you.

  ‘Yeah but you could have got him arrested.’

  ‘It wouldn’t have happened though.’

  ‘Why not?’ Dan asked unable to understand why anyone would avoid reporting a rape.

  ‘It just doesn’t happen like that.’ Emma said knowing Dan wouldn’t stop asking until she had to try to explain something that had taken years for her to understand.

  ‘Of course it does, men go to jail for rape.’

  Emma sat up on the bed beside him, her breasts naked as she spoke. ‘I’ve looked into it, I didn’t at the time but I have now and it’s something like five percent of rape cases end up with a guy in prison and most victims know their attacker so it’s not like the police have to do much detective work.’

  ‘That can’t be right, it’s got to be more than that.’ Dan said.

  ‘It is. That’s what happens and a lot of cases, like mine don’t go reported so it’s really way less than five percent.’

  ‘Ok. I’m sorry but even if it’s that small you could have tried though.’ Dan said.

  ‘I could have but I’d have lost out.’

  ‘How would you have lost out?’ Dan sat up and shuffled backwards leaning against the headboard. ‘I don’t want to sound like I’m blaming you or something but I hate him getting away with hurting you. You know?’

  ‘I do know and it’s cute but it’s over and done with. I’d have lost out because I was a fourteen-year-old girl who met some random guy from the internet. I got all dressed up and even got nice new knickers for the evening. Plenty of people think a woman flirting justifies her getting raped so what would they have thought about me? I’d have had to tell my parents and then get examined and then stand up in court and have everyone hear what I did and think I deserved it. He’d say he thought I was older, that I said I was older and then I’d just end up looking like a slut and everyone would hear about it. I just dealt with it myself and moved on.’ Emma said.

  ‘I’m sorry, I’d not thought about it before. You’d have to go through it all again, in public.’ Dan reached out and took her hand.

  ‘Exactly and it would stick with me. Kids would laugh at me and adults would pity me. I just didn’t want that, I just wanted to pretend it didn’t happen. My parents would have blamed me for going to meet him and at the time I didn’t really know that wasn’t what sex was like. I didn’t have anything to base it against.’ Emma said.

  ‘I’m sorry babe.’ He said squeezing her hand.

  ‘It’s ok, you weren’t to blame and it’s over now.’ Emma said squeezing back.

  ‘I guess even if he had gone down, he’d have got what, a couple of years?’

  ‘Something like that probably.’

  ‘That’s shit.’ Dan said.

  ‘Pretty much.’

  ‘And you don’t know where he is now?’ Dan asked.

  ‘Nope, I’ve got no idea.’

  ‘I wish you did.’ Dan said, his confusion turning into frustration.

  ‘Well I don’t.’ Emma said.

  ‘Probably for the best.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ She asked her head lifting again to make eye contact.

  ‘It doesn’t matter.’ Dan said. ‘Get back down here and cuddle me.’

  ‘Good idea.’ She said snuggling into her previous position.

  Dan pulled her close, craning his neck to kiss her forehead. She nuzzled into him and rested her head on his chest.

  ‘Dan?’ Emma said.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘I can hear your heartbeat. It’s really fast.’

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  The noise. That’s the first thing that gets to you and the first thing you learn to block out. Nearly three hundred little shits screaming, shouting and finding new ways to block up the toilets. Shits. That’s the next thing you have to learn to block out. For some reason kids are constantly in need of the toilet and constantly smell like they forgot to wipe. Jaz found it hard to remain the nice Mr Pickervant they all expected when they all wanted to touch him with their filthy hands and snotty faces. It was a miracle he didn’t drown every winter with the amount of snot these little shits produced.

  Hopefully it wouldn’t be long before he could leave the job, it was a stop gap really, suggested by a friend. The pay was ok and the hours weren’t too bad but it had taken some time to get used to the kids and the girls were growing up a lot faster than he remembered. They stopped being kids just before leaving his Primary now and he could already see the girls who would be sexy. The lads were still lads were still covered in Lynx and hair gel. All the girls had crushes on Justin Bieber while the boys stuck to football and Fortnite.

  The prettiest girl at his school, Holly, was in her last year now and was a little small for his liking
but she was the prettiest girl he’d ever seen. She was so pretty that when one of the teachers had caught him staring at her she’d just confirmed how pretty she was and went back to her work. Within a few years she would be able to pass for eighteen and would find some older boyfriend from another school. The kind she’d talk about to her friends boasting about losing her virginity in his shitty little car.

  At the moment her breasts were just bumps, budding was the term people used but to Jaz they just looked like little tits in pretend bras. By the time she was thirteen she would be ready but he already knew she wouldn’t be on his radar. Being so pretty made her full of herself and stuck up, the whole ‘you don’t know you’re beautiful’ line was fine for a song but girls know. By puberty pretty much everyone knows where they are in the ranking and then barring a rich family or amazing sporting prowess the lads would remain there until there were older. The girls always had the option of becoming a slut and there were always a lot of older boys or men ready to make her feel popular. The road was harder for people like Jaz, they either had to become funny, rich or find a way to get the women. Alcohol helped and pretty much most of the students at university went there just to try to get laid.

  Holly was going to be one of the girls who not only dated older but also dated the cool guy. She was going to remain pretty and wouldn’t be one of those girls who starts off pretty then gets weird looking. No, she was on the road to some cool tosspot who tinkered with cars and got her pregnant at nineteen. She’d have four kids and be the fit council house mum in a pink velour tracksuit who wears too much make up to try to block out the effects of sleepless nights and roll ups. Or maybe she’d get to university and meet some rich guy and end up a trophy. Jaz wasn’t sure and it didn’t really matter but he did know he’d make sure he kept an eye on her for the next few years. Maybe she’d be one of the stupid drunk bitches who thought that just because he was brown he had to be a taxi driver. The first time had been an accident but the second and third had taken him driving around for a few nights, stereo on looking for a slag staggering in heels. Often, they wouldn’t have enough money or they would get scared at the thought of being dropped off out of town. Either way they played ball. He smiled to himself. Either way they played with his balls.