When I awoke the next morning, I couldn't understand the feeling of wellbeing that filled my whole body. And for just those few fleeting moments, I felt like the world was such a wonderful place.
But as my brain clicked into gear, it all came flooding back. The reality of the night before and the horror of what I'd been lured into. And in the awakening, my initial response was one of overriding guilt. Maybe I wasn't the guilty party as far as instigating what had taken place, but I knew I bore the burden of guilt for the ease at which I'd capitulated and then cooperated.
But then as I reviewed the various aspects of the events that had led up to my night of sexual depravity, I began to search for excuses for that capitulation. One thing that I clung onto was that crude saying Trevor had come up with yesterday. If you want to keep a wife at home, keep her well fucked and poorly shod.
Now I'm not saying my shoes are anything special, in fact, due to our finances, I'd say they could probably do with replacing. So that part of the saying hardly applies.
But on the other score, Trevor had no idea just how perceptive his comments were.
And in truth, it wasn't really the fault of my husband. The problem stemmed from me losing my job, and my extremely regular periods. And as fate would have it, right from the very first time he started this working away from home; my period was coming to an end that very weekend. So the week previous to that had been one without sex. Then for the next three weeks, he was away, coming home on the Wednesday, two days into my next period. And so for three months, every time he's been at home, sex has been off the agenda due to my natural cycle.
Now I know it's a very slim excuse to make, but going without for three months (well counting the week before and these two weeks since he went away, nearly four months), it's a long time, and I'm blaming that, for how easily they got me aroused.
Well back to the present, it's Saturday morning, and I'd arranged to go to the farm about mid-day to pick-up the kids. So at around twelve, I set-off. And again, like yesterday, the instant I turned the key in the ignition, the engine burst into life, and it ran like a new one, all the way to the farm.
And just this simple thing, made me wonder if maybe I wasn't putting too much angst into what took place yesterday. After all, I wasn't hurt. Neither were my family. And if anything, we'd all got something out of the deal.
The kids had new friends, with a fun environment to go play, and they'd not have to start using their bikes to go to school. That had to be good with winter coming on.
As far as my husband goes; he hadn't got the stress or worry about the kids cycling to school, and the pressure to buy us a new car.
And me, well all the things that made their life better, obviously made me happy. And, of course, there was this feeling. It's hard to put into words. I guess I'd not realised I was getting frustrated by the lack of sex. But the serene feeling that kept engulfing me since last night, told me something must have been amiss before.
Not that I'm saying I'd been able to forget the seedier side of what had taken place yesterday, but I had attempted to put it all behind me, and try to think positive thoughts. I'd obviously decided that never again would I set foot in their house. But now, knowing the farm I was driving towards, was owned, and run by relatives of Trevor and Bill, I began to wonder if maybe I'd be in danger there. But surely that was stupid. I mean, the relatives of a convicted murderer don't go around murdering people.
Anyway, I had to go to the farm, my two children were there.
So I pulled into the car parking area in front of the farm shop, and not knowing if it was safe to just open the big gates to the farmyard, and then walk in, I opted for asking inside the farm shop. The woman serving soon had a phone in her hand, and within a couple of minutes Mary had arrived with both mine, and her own kids in tow. So with four excited kids jostling around us, I got the guided tour of the farm buildings; or at least all the ones containing animals.
Some thirty or so minutes later I'm on my way home with the kids in the car, and as you might imagine, they were full of it, it was farm this and farm that. And even on the Monday morning at the school gates, as we met up with Mary and her kids, they were all planning another sleep over.
So we move on, it's Tuesday, and I'm expecting James home in two days time. Oh, and yes, my period has started, so once again, sex won't be on offer for him.
I was out in the front garden weeding the boarders, when I saw Trevor's Land Rover pull into their drive. I knew they'd seen me, but I didn't want to get into a conversation with them. So I got to my feet and started to gather all my tools together. But before I got chance to complete my gathering, Trevor's voice boomed across the road, “Alright Shirley luv. How's the car running?”
Now as much as I didn't want a conversation. I was even more worried about any conversing at this distance. It's a quiet village, and neighbours for several houses in either direction would be sure to hear every word at this volume.
So instead of retreating to the house, I quickly strode across to where Trevor stood at his front gate, “Please keep your voice down. I told you before; I don't want my husband to know you've repaired the car. It was supposed to be a secret.”
“Sorry lass, I forgot. But now you're here, how is it running?"
In an irritated tone, I said, “It fine. But I've told you, I don't want to be seen talking with you.”
“Well your gratitude was short lived. That car was more than just fine last week. And you were bubbling over with appreciation. And now you'll not even give us the time of day.”
“Well what d'you expect after the things you did to me last Friday night?”
“I'd assumed you'd have reasoned that through by now, and realised you're still up on the deal. I mean Bill was hoping you'd pay us another visit one night this week; y'know, before your husband arrives home.”
“You've got a bloody nerve. You're lucky I haven't reported you pair to the police.”
“That would have been a silly thing to do, especially as we've got a computer with a thousand or more pictures and half a dozen videos. And in almost every one, you're either smiling or at least showing an expression of delight.”
“I thought you deleted those?”
“We did, out of that folder; but the originals were still on the memory cards in the cameras. Bill has now trawled through every thing we took, and any pictures showing you being held, or videos where you're protesting, has all been cut away and deleted. So if anyone were to come and look at our computer, they'd only find evidence of a willing and happy lass enjoying a good fucking.”
“You bastards. I trusted you.”
“So what about Bill, can I tell him we'll be seeing you again one night this week?”
“No you can't. You can tell him to go fuck himself.”
“Oh don't worry, he does that regular. Well me'be not fuck, but wank; that's the next best thing.”
“Don't be so crude.”
“And you should stop being so prudish. You know we're owed another night. Fairs, fair.”
I turned and as I began to walk away, I said, “I'm not listening to any more. And from now on, I'll thank you to keep your nose out of my business. I never want to hear your voice or see you again.”
His reply started at normal volume, but as I walked and the distance between us grew, so did his volume, until he was all but shouting. “Well in that case, you'd better close your eyes and cover your ears, cos Bill and I were living in this village before you came, and we'll likely be here when you leave. But you think on what I've said, one more night and we'll be even. YOU WOULDN'T WANT ANY OF THOSE PICTURES TO ACCIDENTALLY LEAK FROM OUR COMPUTER.”
Over the next two days, I did think about the threats involved with those photos and videos. But with my period upon me, even if I'd been of a mind to capitulate, it would have been a non starter. But I wasn't in that frame of mind; even with their loaded arsenal of incriminating pictures, I was still determined I'd not go back to them.
So sleepless nights followed, and now it's Thursday afternoon and my James has just driven onto our drive in his works van. Before I can even open the front door, the children are racing across the garden to meet him. By the time I join them, they're making their way to the door and the kids a talking none stop. And you can guess what about; farms and sleep over's.
As we came together, we kissed and said our usual things. You know, the, I've missed you, and it's so good to hold you again, etc. And then as we walked into the house with the kids dogging our heals, I asked, “Of course they can what?”
“Sam's farm. They've been telling me all about their sleep over last weekend. I assume you're ok with them doing it again this Friday. They said Sam's wife threw out the invite.”
“She did. But I thought, being as you see so little of them these days, I didn't say yes right off. But if you're ok with it, I’ll tell her at the school gates in the morning.”
“Yes, let them enjoy themselves. So how have you managed? Any problems?”
“No. It's been pretty routine.”
Then Jason piped-up, “Mummy, tell him about the car.” That was all I needed, now I'd have to lie my way out.
James asked, “The car? What about the car?”
Jason was bubbling with excitement, as he'd now got his dad's full attention. And although James had asked me the question, before I could think what to say, and had started to reply, Jason burst out with, “It broke down, and we had to walk home. And then…”
“Ok, ok. I was asking mummy. Now you pair run and play for five minutes while we talk.”
So looking a little crestfallen, he followed his sister out into the garden. Then James looked my way, “Go on then, how much?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing? So how did you manage that?”
I explained everything, pretty much as it really happened, thinking Jason was likely to fill in with his own version at the first opportunity. But as Jason knew nothing about the seriousness of the cause of the breakdown, nor the accompanying cost; when I came to the part about what the two kind gentlemen had found wrong, I then lied. “We were lucky. It was something and nothing. Apparently a wire or connection of some sort just came loose. And they wouldn't hear of taking any payment for towing the car home. So I baked them a blackberry and apple pie. And even the ingredients for that were free, apples off our tree, and blackberries from the bush down the back lane.”
He kissed me, and said, “Who's a clever little girl then. I'd never have had the cheek to have asked them for help. We hardly know them.”
“Well, I wouldn't under normal circumstances. But with you being away, I just put on my little girl lost look, and hoped they'd take pity on me.”
“Well ten out of ten for quick thinking. But I guess I ought to go over there and thank them.”
“I don't really think that's necessary. I mean they said it was nothing. Five minutes work at most.”
“But you said they towed your car home. If you'd called a garage in, that would have been fifty quid at least.”
“Still, it was last week. And they seemed more than happy with my pie. Maybe if you happen to see them about on the weekend, you could say thank you then.”
So thankfully, the subject was dropped, and nothing of any consequence came up for the rest of the evening.
