Chapter 4
There was only a few weeks' break before college started again. This was our final year of 'A' levels, and we would be making a short list of universities to apply to. My previous top choice was Bristol, followed by Edinburgh and then Manchester, but following the events in Bristol earlier that summer, I had second thoughts about Bristol. I didn't think it would be something I would want to be reminded of. I took my parent's advice and started to talk to a councillor about the attack, and I also discussed it with my parents. They were all very supportive, and after a few weeks, I felt no more need for the talks. If things changed in the future, I could easily start them again.
In October, I received a phone call from the Bristol CID unit wanting to come and see me to discuss a few points and to give me an update on the case. I arranged to meet them that weekend at my house so my parents would both be there to offer support and I wouldn't have to repeat everything to them.
The same two inspectors arrived, clarified a few minor points, and then explained that DNA taken of the four men had led to them being charged with the rape and murder of three women across the Southwest of England and Wales earlier that year. The three women, aged from eighteen to twenty four had been abducted in different towns, gang raped over a week each and then their mutilated bodies dumped in a remote spot-on Exmoor in Devon. Naomi was doing well in counselling, but it would be a while before she got over it; her mother and family were all supporting her.
The evidence against them was solid, and the court case would likely be in the New Year. Due to the strong case, they would likely plead guilty to try to get reduced sentences. After they left, I talked to my parents more about it. After the description of what those men had done to the other women, any misplaced guilt I had over the injuries I'd given them disappeared out the window. I was just glad I hadn't known beforehand, or I might have been charged with murder myself.
Over the Autumn term, my parents and I visited various universities, trying to narrow them down to the three I would apply to. I settled on Bristol (still), Edinburgh and Manchester. I also went to Agadir in Morocco in October for the World Junior Judo Championships. As reigning Youth Olympic Champion, I was the pre-tournament favourite and came home with another gold. Christmas was again spent in Sweden. I took my medals to show off to my cousins, uncles, aunts and grandparents, plus anyone else I could find an excuse to show them to. There's no point working so hard if you're not going to bask in the glory, I thought.
I spent New Year's Eve at Dafydd's house; Isolde, Lisa, Claire and Lucy also attended. Isolde and Lisa both had boyfriends now, and they were also there. Dafydd was making moves on Claire, and they were getting very friendly by the time the New Year was rung in. I was still single but wasn't too concerned; my life was so busy anyway I wasn't yet worried about it.
College started again, and we had some test exams which I did well in. I started reducing the time on training slightly to ensure I got the grades I needed for university but kept it ticking over. I jogged most mornings to clear my head as I found the exercise therapeutic. The court case was in early February, and they all pleaded guilty as the police inspectors had predicted. I only had to attend for a few days to give evidence and caught a brief glimpse of Naomi; she looked much thinner and withdrawn. As I returned from the toilet one occasion, a woman introduced herself as Naomi's mother, Diane. She hugged me fiercely and thanked me for saving her daughter's life. We talked for about ten minutes, and I asked how Naomi was. She replied she was slowly getting over it, but it had given her a fear of men. The only man she would be alone in the same room with was her dad. Diane and Naomi's dad divorced five years ago, and he now had to see Naomi at Diane's house as Naomi wouldn't stay elsewhere. I asked her to pass on my best wishes and hoped Naomi would put it behind her and live a happier life in the future. We hugged again and then parted.
Easter was in early April, and as a family, we visited my aunt and uncle on the Isle of Mull for a week. We did a lot of walking, and one day; I went up to the quarry to reminisce about the events 18 months previously. It was too early for the falcons to nest, but I saw one catch a pigeon on the wing, which was incredible. The four men were sentenced that month; they each got 40 years of jail time with a minimum of 30 years before probation. The gang leader was recommended not ever to be allowed probation. Reading the headlines in the Sunday paper brought it back to me and made me think of Naomi again. No one deserved to go through what that poor young woman had. But I also realised she had been lucky in surviving, unlike the other three women. As I read it, I traced the scar on my arm where the knife had cut me. My mum, always perceptive, noticed my pensive mood that afternoon and gave me a much-needed hug.
May came around, and at the start of the exams, Dafydd, the girls, their respective partners and I often met up after each day at the coffee shop. Overall, we were pleased with how the exams were going and quietly confident. Around that time, I was accepted to all three universities, subject to getting my expected grades. Ultimately, I accepted the Manchester offer because I might get to go to Anfield to watch Liverpool play occasionally.
Craig came down to stay at our house for a week in early July, and I showed him around the New Forest. This National Park is just outside Totton and consists of a mix of forest and heathland. It had semi-wild native ponies roaming freely and was founded by William the Conqueror in 1079, so not exactly 'New'. We also caught the train down to Portsmouth. We went to see HMS Victory - Admiral Nelson's famous flagship at Trafalgar, The Mary Rose - King Henry VIII's flagship that had sunk in the Solent on its maiden voyage and HMS Warrier, the first iron-hulled warship. We spent the afternoon on the beach eating ice creams and watching the boats on the Solent as we looked across to the Isle of Wight. Craig and Dafydd were both accepted at Manchester, so we decided to try to get accommodation together if possible. Next year was going to be a good year, and we intended to have a great time together.
Late July was pretty crap where the weather was concerned, and August wasn't forecast to be much better. I turned 18 in June, so I asked my parents if they would agree to me camping in France. We'd been camping as a family many times, and they had no concerns. I decided to head for somewhere in the south, as it was more likely to be hot, and found flights from Southampton to Bordeaux in the Southwest. From there, I could get a train to the village of Ychoux and then a bus to Mimizan Plage on the Atlantic coast. I found several campsites nearby and packed a small tent and stove. I would need to buy gas canisters once I got there, but it would be easy enough.
Southampton only has a small airport, so the aeroplane was a twin-engine propeller type (or rubber band powered, as my dad thought). The flight was noisy and bumpy, but it was much more convenient than travelling to London to catch something. I arrived, set up my tent, and ate a simple meal. France had licensing laws similar to those in England, so I bought some lager from the onsite camp shop when I bought my food. There appeared to be mainly Dutch, German, and British families at the site, but not many my age. I chatted with the families around me, who were all very friendly. In the evening, I played badminton with a German family with two young teenage children. We conversed in French, the only common language, and managed quite well. After their kids had gone to bed, I shared some beers with them and played cards under the stars.
The next day, I put my Kindle, towel, sunscreen, bottled water, a baguette and some cheese into a small rucksack and headed for the beach. The beach closest to the campsite was bustling, and I wanted somewhere quieter, so I walked a mile or so further south until it was deserted. After deciding on a spot, I took off all my clothes, ran down, and dived into the sea. The whole section of the beach for mile after mile is clothing optional. We'd been here as a family before, and swimming and walking around naked wasn't new to me; it was liberating and felt good for the soul. I spent most of the day there, occasionally running along the beach for about a mile before turning around and jogging back. I passed a few people: young couples, old couples, some nude, some topless and some with regular bathing costumes on. No one batted an eye at me, jogging past, although some women looked like they were watching me through their sunglasses.
Over the next few days, I followed the same basic pattern; I tended to head to the same area of the beach and then spend the day there, swimming, reading, sunbathing, and occasionally going for a jog when I got too restless or even going through some taekwondo forms. In the evenings, I often played badminton with the children of the German couple nearby before playing cards and drinking with the parents.
The day before I was heading home, I started in the same manner. Just before lunch, I was getting restless again, so I decided to go and have another jog before eating, heading in the opposite direction to what I had done in the morning. I set off, close to the sea where the sand was wet and harder and saw a group of four young, topless women. They looked Thai or Southeast Asian, but I couldn't see clearly. They watched as I ran past, and I could hear them giggling. I had a good-sized penis, being nearly nine inches erect but only about five in its current sleeping state, and as I ran, it swung about, so they got a good, free show. I must admit I probably exaggerated my running to ensure my cock swung about more than usual, but the girls did look cute, so you can't blame me.
Further up the beach was a middle-aged couple who looked to be hugging and kissing; she saw me, and I heard her groan as she stared at my cock. I smiled, thinking the chap would probably get lucky and carried on. I ran further than usual, then turned and returned towards my spot. As I had predicted, when I got close to the couple, he was kneeling behind her, pumping enthusiastically into her. Her large breasts were swinging under her as she supported her weight on her hands. She saw me, licked her lips, and flicked her head, trying to get me to come over and join them.
I slowed down almost to a walk, watching them. It was a very erotic sight, and although older, she was still a good-looking woman. Joining them didn't appeal to me, so I watched them as I passed. What did happen, though, was to start pumping blood into my dick until it was fully erect. The woman seemed to enjoy that sight even more and started to moan loudly before she came hard. The guy then grabbed her hips as he came inside of her. She knelt up, and he cupped her breasts and then kissed her. It was a strangely romantic sight.
