Chapter 1.
All winter long, events had conspired against Beverley until she broke. The adult toy company she worked for in packaging, reincorporated to avoid paying tax and was withholding her salary and a promised bonus.
Her car had failed its MOT on a serious emissions problem related to the DPI filter, whatever that is. But it was unaffordable to repair, so her career prospects were limited to bus routes.
But the worst thing that had shattered Beverley's mediocre life was finding out that her significant other, Anthony was a two timing, lying scheming bastard and had been, since everyone had told her so, when they first went out.
People don't change, past behaviour, predicts future behaviour. We're Pavlov's dogs with big IQ's. Wankers carry on being wankers and suckers carry on sucking.
Beverly had driven out to the Severn Bridge in her car without it's MOT, stopped in the nearside lane and climbed the barrier. The wind blasted through her nylon blouse and caused her slacks to flap. The cold was biting, so she didn't linger, she leaned forward and allowed her hand to slowly release its grip on the vertical member. Her fingertips lingered on the cold steel as her weight shifted forward until she could not feel the bridge any more and she was falling..
An odd disconnection happened whilst she fell, she was aware of the rushing wind and the tumbling lights from the bridge for what seemed like minutes, until suddenly blackness. No one reported seeing her "jump".
Beverley awoke and felt warm and secure, but her left hand side ached with the dull throb of old bruising. She was in a cream cabin that was obviously on a boat, the round portholes and gentle swaying betrayed that much. She had neither the will nor the energy to rise from her bed, but assessed her current location.
Richard Dawkins had long ago assured her that, given the circumstances of her memories, she was still alive. She felt secure and noticed that someone had been caring for her for some time, the bed pan, the ointments and spare bedding were indicators to this end.
Looking out of the port hole nearest the bed, it was also apparent that she was no longer in UK waters, by more than one climate zone. The sun was dazzling, reflections lit the ceiling of the cabin. This was not Northern Europe in the winter.
Beverley's eyes spun back to the door as foot steps approached. The door swung open as if it were a public toilet and in walked a slender woman with the most beautiful dark olive skin imaginable. It covered her entire being, and was by far the her noticeable feature. The two strangers stared at each other, as though this woman had not expected to find Beverley in the cabin.
"Sid" the strange woman called back through the door, "Sid, she's awake."
Beverley took more of this wondrous woman in. She was wearing a fluorescent green bikini and deck shoes, her legs were well toned, slender and elegant, her stomach flat, breasts well proportioned and arms slightly heavier than you would expect. The bulge in the crouch of her bikini bottoms was more pronounced than most women, but there was no camel toe. The strangers face and neck were well proportioned, high cheek bones and a slim face, her neck not model thin, but still slender.
This was the shape of her but still the overriding quality that caught and maintained your gaze was the sheer beauty of this girls skin.
Sid appeared in the door way, unshaven, tall, handsome and smiling.
"You're awake Beverley!" he said.
Beverley looked around the cabin, trying to think of a response to this truism.
"I hope I'm awake, because the alternative doesn't seem so appealing anymore" croaked Beverley.
The strange girl, stepped closer to the bed, and said "I'm Deborah, how are you feeling?"
Beverley reviewed her earlier inventory and confessed " hungry, and thirsty, but more than that bewildered, why aren't I dead?"
"Well" Sid said "we saw you tumbling from the Severn Bridge as we were on our way out to sea, and rescued you, but once Debs and me had undressed you, and got you settled, we kind of decided to keep you."
"Decided to keep me?" Beverley echoed in a whisper.
"Let me explain" interrupted Debs "we reasoned that you might not want to live, but we kind of liked the look of you naked, and thought that we could have some use for you" she trailed off.
"Liked the look of me naked", "Have some use for me?" Beverley quoted back to Debs, slightly louder.
"What Debs is trying to explain" broke in Sid "Is we wanted to keep you alive as our special friend."
"Special friend?" Beverley implored, catching on to the direction of this discussion.
"Oh fuck it Sid" said Debs "lets just tell her, she's our fucking sex toy."
Silence ensued, the kind of silence that is generated by social blunders in England that result in someone having to jump off the Severn Bridge.
Beverley's head dropped, could the world be any crueler? "I used to work, packaging shitty sex toys, and now I am oonnee," her voice trailed off into sobbing.
Sid perked up "well at least you're alive!, come outside and see if you can spot any differences."
He approached the bed and offered Beverley a hand to get up. Miserably Beverley looked up into Sid's handsome, smiling face.
"Where are we anyway? How long have I been gone?" She inquired, allowing Sid to gently help her out of the bunk. Her left leg and arm had evidence of fading bruising, she guessed her whole left side was bruised under her stripy pink pyjama set.
"We're in the Caribbean, It took 5 days to get here, and we arrived last night. You must be hungry" said Sid.
"I've been unconscious for nearly a week and you never thought to call a doctor" Beverly was aghast.
"We face booked a doctor the day after you fell" protested Debs, "anyway why do you care, thought you wouldn't be bothered either way."
Beverley was about to argue, but found the reasoning difficult to challenge and closed her mouth with a snap. "OK, lets see where we are" she said instead, feeling dejected.
