"I didn't have long to think. The house was only five minutes away and the boathouse was actually on their land. When we arrived I was shocked to find his friends were already watching our performance on video from a camera set up in the old boathouse. When the gate at the top of the lane was left open, the area around the boathouse was a very popular place for courting couples who, unknowingly, became video stars.
I was introduced to Mr. Belston and Flo, his girlfriend. He was quite old, about forty, sitting in his cashmere dressing gown and Flo in her mid twenties, in a white dress not dissimilar to the one I had just been wearing. She was a lovely looking girl, the white of her dress contrasting beautifully with her dark ebony skin. There was something familiar about Mr. Belston but I was unable to fathom it out until much later. Anyway I was able to use their telephone to call home and say I had gone to a friends to revise for my exams.
As I said Flo was lovely and so friendly too and she made us something to eat. Later as Flo and I washed the dishes she told me to do anything Mr. Belston asked me to do and to make sure I never ever got him angry. I was puzzled by this advice but she refused to elaborate and I was left to puzzle it out, rather unsuccessfully, at the time I may add.
Afterwards we all had something to drink, a vodka which I found quite strong but I did manage another as we all sat around the television."
"Emma, we're planning a big party and an orgy to celebrate your 18th birthday next week," Mr. Belston announced quite casually and went on. "Lots of food and drink and boys and girls too, but you will be our guest of honour, our sexy school girl in her real school uniform."
"I looked at him, remembering also the advice from Flo, and asked how he knew I was about to be eighteen. He laughed and told me he knew lots about me."
"Do you remember being in a fight with a girl at school a couple of years ago?"
"I hadn't forgotten about it although it was not prominent in my mind. It had all been about my friend being hit with a hockey stick by a girl two grades higher then us. I hesitated when I remembered the girls name, Sarah Belston-Lee."
"Yes, my daughter," said Mr. Belston, standing up from his chair and walking around the room like a school teacher. "You smacked her in the eye and you never ever apologised."