Ghosts in the Morning - By Will Thurmann Page 0,23

any more.

A firm hand grabbed my shoulder and pulled me back. ‘Now, now, skinny Andrea, where are you off to? I mean, we’ve had a little drink together, I think it’s time that we got a little better acquainted,’ Darren said. His hand remained on my shoulder but now his other hand snaked across my body and grabbed hold of my breast.

I was properly scared now. ‘Don’t,’ I said, as firmly as I could, but my voice felt thick, the vodka had thickened my tongue. ‘Don’t. I have to go!’ I pushed his hands away roughly, catching him by surprise, and jumped to my feet.

A blur, like lightning in my periphery, and Darren’s arm had shot out and clutched my wrist. I could see his biceps tensed and swollen, I could feel his wiry strength. ‘Now, now, skinny Andrea, not so fast. I mean, you can’t invite us in for a drink, and then just leave. I mean, that’s not very nice, not very friendly is it? I mean, especially not when we’re just getting romantic.’

I tugged against his arm, but he was too strong. Tears sprung to my eyes, and the world around me began to blur and spin.

I felt my legs pulled away from me, felt my head bang on the floor of the shed. I breathed the musty smell of wood, could taste old varnish, acrid, sour. My wrists were gripped tight and held above my head and there was an arm across my neck. Words drifted to my ears – ‘give us a hand here, Kevin, hold her arms there’ - then a rag, dirty, oily, greasy, was thrust into my mouth. There was a rough tug at my jeans, denim scraped my thighs, then a tearing sound as my panties were pulled down violently. Through the haze, I had tried to wrestle my arms but they were trapped hard, I had fought to kick my legs, but the weight upon them was too much, the feeling of paralysis. Then the blur of time slowed, and everything began to freeze. I closed my eyes, I didn’t want to see anymore, but I couldn’t shut out the slow-motion pictures. Through my closed eyelids I could see Darren’s leering face with its jutted cheekbones and then I felt a sharp stabbing pain on my leg, then I heard Darren say ‘shit, the bitch’s hole ain’t easy to find’, and then an excruciating pain of friction, like a burning inside me, and the friction began to scrape, slow at first, then faster, searing into me, and soon after I felt a hot wetness on my thigh. The grip on my wrists relaxed briefly, then a shuffling noise, and now it was Kevin’s turn, but I was numb and this time the stabbing was brief, this time the hot wetness was let go inside of me. ‘Hey, Jonnie, your turn,’, and then ‘Jonnie, you really are a wuss, either that or you’re gay,’ then my arms were finally let go, and the rag was pulled from my mouth.

I didn’t open my eyes as the voice bit into me. ‘Now, the way I see it, skinny Andrea, is that you were up for it. I mean, sharing vodka like that, giving us the come-on, what do you expect? You wanted it, yeah? Listen, you tell anyone, well – it’s your word against the three of us. I don’t reckon old Phillips will believe anything you say.’

Mr. Phillips was the new head of the care home. Retired from the army, he had little time for the girls, saw them as a nuisance.

‘Come on boys, I fancy a game of pool,’ Darren said. Matter-of-fact, like nothing had happened.

I pulled my jeans up. Once again I could hear the rustle of the breeze on the leaves as I sobbed silently.

***

‘Yeah, I can get it done for you today if you like. Cost a few quid, mind, I’d have to put two of the boys on it. And you’ll pay cash, yeah?’

‘Yes, cash. I told you that already.’

‘Alright, missus, keep your hair on, just checking. You don’t need a loan car, do you? Well, I hope you don’t, anyway, ‘cos we ain’t got one.’ The mechanic laughed to himself, then jabbed a thumb towards a younger guy. ‘Get on this one, Shane, will ya. Get Mark to give you a hand, if you need it.’

I didn’t need a loan car, and it had looked like the kind of garage that didn’t provide that level of