They were sitting on the floor of the balcony with the white linen cloth laid between them, covered in the debris of a sumptuous and welcome repast.

'I guess that when midnight chimes, my fairy vision of loveliness disappears never to be seen again.'

She took one of the last strawberries and offered it to him. 'So you want that to happen?'

'Do you want me to be totally honest?' She nodded and he stood, took his COMDEX catalogue and handed it to her. 'Look in there and you'll find a postcard.'

She found the card with its hackneyed view of Vegas by night and she read what he had written, but had not posted. 'So you haven't seen her since Catherine died?' He nodded. She continued to read all of his closely-packed scrawl. 'Do you mean what you say? I have to ask, but do you really love her? With all that to the end of the earth stuff!'

'You have been totally honest about your views and feelings.' He motioned her to sit at the head of the bed with him. 'I must be the same!'

'Would you like me to open another bottle?' He affirmed and skilfully she unwrapped the cork and its retaining wire, before popping it gently and refilling both their glasses. She gave him his glass, before arranging the pillows, so she could lounge comfortably beside him. 'I'm ready now, tell me about your mysterious lover!'

***

He told Lucinda how he had met his mistress and how he must have known her for fourteen or perhaps even sixteen years. He told of her understanding first husband, the unreliable second, who had interrupted their affair, her now-teenage children and how the two of them would write long letters and phone often and at other times, how they would almost ignore each other for years. He described their occasional and intermittent, but sometimes frightening and explosive sex in detail, adding their joint fears, pleasures and fetishes.

'That's almost sad and tragic.' She kissed him gently as he finished. 'But you love her, don't you?'

'Yes! Well I think so.' He thought for a few moments. 'And I think and hope, she loves me!' She thought she saw the glimmer of a tear in his eye. 'But to neither of us is it an exclusive love. I thought I loved Catherine, despite her faults, her drunkenness, her suicidal behaviour and everything else. She loves her children. She even must have loved that dreadful husband. You love Cassie. You loved your violent husband. People are like that!' He paused and started to cry. 'And I love the son, I haven't seen since he was just eight weeks old! Life and love is very hurtful to us all.'

'Don't I just know it!' She moved up close and leant over to comfort him.

'I'm sorry!' She wiped his tears away with a tissue. 'You perhaps ought to go!'

She ignored his statement. 'Tell me about your son?'

He started to tell of that first ill-fated relationship. 'I'd met his mother at University and we'd lived together in London for about two years. I think you must be the only person in the last twenty or so years, I've ever told about little Paul.' He smiled weakly at her, as she looked up at him from where she had laid her head on his chest. 'Even Catherine or my mistress never knew! But I remember the day he was born as if it was yesterday. You would have loved the drama and the theatre of it all, as his birth was within minutes of them leaving on Apollo 11 for the moon.'

'So you didn't call him, Apollo or Neil, then?'

He smiled. 'Then one day, I'd been working in Newcastle for a week and when I got back, she'd gone, taking her clothes, my memories and Paul with her.' He paused and stroked her hair as if looking for comfort. 'They just vanished. I've searched for them many times since, but all I was able to find out is that she met an unknown American and possibly came over here. There's no trace of her marrying anybody and nobody's ever got a clue as to where they went or where any of them are now!'

***

She had laid still for perhaps ten minutes or so, listening to his breathing and his heart and waiting for him to be calmed and settled, before she spoke. 'I'm not going, you know!'

'But, after all I've said. It really wasn't how, I should have rewarded you for all the fun and pleasure, you have given me.' He hugged her into his body. 'I really have enjoyed everything and I'll remember you for ever, till the end of the earth!'

'Don't be silly! I've told you many things about the company, Russ and my life, that no-one else would ever hear. Except perhaps Cassie! So we're quits and even, aren't we?' She sat up facing him and kissed him deeply. 'There, are we friends now for ever? Till pigs fly!'

He laughed at the silly joke. 'Yes!' He kissed her tenderly this time. 'Thank you, you've been better for me than any expensive psychiatrist! And you're a lot more beautiful!'

'Thank you! It's lucky I'm English, as a lot of American women would think you sexist.' She smiled. 'I just think you're a little bit old-fashioned and perhaps, half a gentleman.'

'Only half?'

'Well, then as you're almost a full gentleman, can I ask you a very serious question?' She paused as if she really didn't want to continue. 'Have you ever raped anybody?'

The question startled and shocked him, coming as it did from nowhere. 'No! I've tried to be honest all day and I'm not changing. Thankfully, no! You don't count the mutual rape, that myself and a certain lady have practised?' She shook her head. 'In fact, I don't think I could make love to anybody without co-operation and consent. I have so much guilt about sex, sometimes I even find it difficult to do anything at all.' He laughed at himself, then continued slowly and seriously. 'Why did you ask the question?'

'I've never told anybody before, but as you have been so open about your life with me...' She paused. 'And as we seem to have so much death and hurt in common...' She paused again for several seconds. 'This is difficult for me, but I feel that I perhaps can almost cleanse myself and rid myself of the memory of a terrible ordeal.' She had now resumed her position on his chest. 'It completes what we started in the shower. A symbolic washing away of all of the guilt, pain and suffering of the past.' He could feel her gently sobbing. 'I told you that John was violent, didn't I?'

'Yes, you did. So I suppose one night he went a lot further, beat you senseless and raped you!'

'No! It was much worse than that!' She had now curled right up, almost as if she needed to be in a foetal position to expel the fearful tale. 'It was a Saturday afternoon, Cassie was asleep in her cot, I was reading some novel by Joanna Trollope, and John and a four of his moronic friends were watching the football on television and drinking too much.'

'The alcohol is irrelevant. It's no excuse for anything.'

She continued, the strain showing in her voice and on her face. 'I may have made some silly comment, about why all those overweight wimps needed all that padding, whereas real men played games like rugby au naturel. But they got rather annoyed with me and felt I needed shutting up and teaching a lesson.' She paused and put her hand inside his shirt for reassurance. 'I suppose it might have even started playfully as they held me down and asked me to keep quiet. I think at one point someone even said please!'

'But then it got ugly!'

'Yes, in a word! Before I knew it, my jeans had been removed and they had stuffed my knickers into my mouth as a gag, tying them in with tape. I couldn't shout and could only breath spasmodically through my nose. One of them held it closed to control me and stop my kicking and struggling. When they taped a cushion cover over my head, I was so frightened, I thought I was going to suffocate.' She started to cry. 'I didn't half fucking fight though!' There was more than a tiny suspicion of pride in her voice.

He comforted her silently for perhaps a minute, before she continued the tale.

'I lost count of the times I was violated and forcibly penetrated for an hour or it may have been even two. No man could ever imagine how appalling it is for any woman to have two unwelcome animals in her body at the same time. Eventually, I think I must have passed out and when I came round, the football had finished and some inane game show was blaring away. Cassie thankfully hadn't seen anything, but was crying in the bedroom and I was alone with John.'

Still he could say nothing of value, so he just held her until the tears had subsided.

'I guessed then that John realised he had gone too far. He was crying as he released me and distraughtly shouting words and phrases such as Sorry, Shouldn't Have, Fucking Bastard and No! No! No! in a stream of incoherent babble and obscene abuse. Perhaps, two minutes later, as I sat there sobbing with Cassie in my arms, trying to make some sense of it, he stormed out of the house and drove off in his Corvette!'

'Did you phone the Police?'

'No!' The tears had now begun again and this time it was a long time before she regained the thread. 'They came about an hour later to tell me that he'd driven into a bridge on the freeway at over a hundred. His death and his ultimate release had been instantaneous!' She paused and hugged him tight, before continuing much quieter than before. 'But not mine!'

'Here, let's clean you up a bit. You're rather a mess.' He took a tissue and wetting it with his saliva he started to remove the streaks of mascara and eye liner that had run down both cheeks. Then, he peeled, cleaned, stroked and combed strands of red hair that had matted and stuck to her forehead. Gradually, under his care she regained her colour and composure. 'There's still more isn't there, before you end your sentence!' He knew there was. 'Who were the other men?'

'Three of them were irrelevant jerks, who I've never seen since and never want to see ever again. As far as I know, they left Vegas in rather a hurry!' He could feel her breathing heavily, as she summoned up all her will, to break the chains that bound her to those terrifying events. 'The fourth man was Russ. That slimy, smelly bastard Russ Gilbert!'

***

She lay quietly in his arms for what seemed ages to him, but was probably no more than a few minutes. 'I take it you're staying, tonight!' It was partly a question and partly a statement of protection, as he did not feel at the present time and in her mental state, a drive home through the night would be the best course of action.

'Of course, I'm staying!' Lucinda's answer was definite and backed with a smile and a kiss. 'I feel safe with you. And I trust you. Even in the shower, you took no advantage. How many men would do that? You washed and cleansed the most intimate parts of my body, just as I would my daughter. It was almost asexual, when probably in truth it was a massive turn on in both our minds.' She smiled at her innermost thoughts.

'I was only following your lead.' He tried to remember exactly what she had said. 'Didn't you say something about not doing anything my mother wouldn't have done!'

'I did!' She laughed and kissed him again. 'But then it's a line I used to use a lot in the past. I'm afraid a group of men destroyed my faith in it.'

'Lucinda, don't judge all men by Russ and your husband. What they did to you was unforgivable and it draws an unbreakable line under my views about Russ.' He put his hand under her chin and lifted her face towards him, almost as if he was looking for maximum attention. 'Just remember two things. All relationships must be mutually equal. And that in the end, sex must always be the gift of a woman.'

Copyright 1999 by Ewart Higgins