Keppelberg (10 page)

Chapter Eight

Life with Bridget got better and better. There was no interference from Robert who spent most of his time in his bedroom leaving us in peace. I wasn't sure whether it was all the kissing and touching between myself and his mother that sickened him but he stayed away. After all, most young people cringe at the sight of their parents making loving gestures with each other.

One evening I put down my book to enter into a discussion with the love of my life. She looked up at me with her large doleful eyes, her eyelashes flickering as a brief smile touched her lips.

‘What's wrong?' She asked pleasantly.

‘I'm thinking about your parents,' I ventured thoughtfully. ‘What happened to them?'

‘My parents,' she repeated lamely with a slight frown on her face.

‘Where are they? Do they live in the village? I'd like to meet them.'

She shook her head sadly before replying. ‘You won't' she answered tersely. ‘It all happened some years ago. A stranger came to the village... a man who was clearly of some account. He was extremely eloquent. He asked Mr. Townsend to call a meeting of everyone at the village hall because he said he had something very important to tell them. On the appointed evening, he spouted about the fantastic life that existed beyond the village where people had televisions, computers, holidays abroad, films and cinemas, and many other things including the opportunity to drink and live a life of luxury. He appealed to the villager's greed outlining how they could gamble at will, win fortunes on a lottery, and so on and so forth. He appealed to them about freedom, a new way of life, including free healthcare. My parents were influenced by the man whose main aim was to find tenants for the houses he owned and to fill his pockets with the rent. They left here for a new way of life and I haven't heard from them since.

‘They were allowed to go?'

‘Anyone could leave the village then if they wanted to.'

‘How long ago was it when your parents left? I might be able to find them for you.'

‘It's no use,' she told me sombrely. ‘They're long dead. I know they are.'

‘How can you be so certain?' I asked. I had an uncanny feeling that she was correct in her assumption and that she also knew the reason.

‘There's not to reason why, there's but to do and die!' She quoted using the words of Alfred Tennyson in his ‘Charge of the Light Brigade'.

‘I think you owe me a better answer than that,' I persisted believing that she was telling me a tall story. Why should her parents leave the village to start a new life elsewhere which they knew nothing about?

‘It was quite a long time ago and my parents were fairly old,' she went on. ‘I'm sure they wouldn't have survived in the hostile world outside the village. ‘They'd live here all their lives.'

‘Is that the honest truth,' I demanded, perhaps a little too strongly.

‘Why would I lie to you,' she returned quickly. ‘I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.'

‘Even though I'm a stranger,' I riposted, wondering what her reaction would be.

‘Especially as you're a stranger,' she retorted changing the subject. ‘You're so different to anyone else here. That's why I fell in love with you.' I stared at her beautiful face and it seemed that she was telling me the truth. How could I feel anger towards her when told me something like that. ‘I know that you were in the army in Persia,' she continued.

‘It's Iraq now,' I corrected.

‘I've never been overseas. What's it like in other countries?'

I paused for a moment to reflect. She was bringing the past back to me rapidly and it was my turn to explain. ‘I can only tell you about Iraq. It's another world out there,' I informed her, eager to express my views and enjoy a moment of nostalgia. ‘The temperature's very hot except for certain times in the winter. There's sand everywhere and occasionally sandstorms which causes day to turn into night. At all other times the sun beats down mercilessly. It gets tremendously hot. Many houses have been demolished in the fighting and the people are split into two factions... the Sunnis and the Shi'ites who tend not to like each other. There are also different tribes which hate each other intensely although there's no real reason. From one town to another, roads have been built, but they are heavily mined in places making it dangerous to walk. They're put there by people who hate the British invading their country and they want us to leave. There was a joke on a television programme where the interviewer asked: ‘Why is it that five years ago men always walked ten yards ahead of women. Now it's the other way around.' The person being interviewed said: ‘Mines!' I waited for a smile to come from Bridget's face but she stared at me blankly. I could easily see her difficulty in imagining the place I had just outlined to her.

‘I don't understand,' she responded with a puzzled expression on her face. ‘What are mines?'

I waited for a while before continuing. ‘Okay, ‘ I went on, trying to keep my voice on an even level. ‘I had to make sure that peace remained stable in and around the city of Basra. It's an important town in Iraq. Some Arabs were good and behaved themselves, others were bad and fired guns at us trying to kill us. Occasionally, a mine... a bomb placed in the ground... exploded, killing or wounding soldiers or civilians.' I decided not to boast about the medal awarded to me and it was just as well because she held up her hands to stop me from going on.

‘I don't really want to hear any more,' she argued. ‘It sounds very terrible and I would not wish to go to places like that. We have such peace in the village. Why should I go elsewhere? It sounds terrible!'

‘Well there are countries where there is no war and everything is pleasant. There are many places tourists go to.'

‘What are tourists?' she asked becoming further confused.

I could see that I was out of my depth. Modern terminology and situations were completely lost here. ‘Well all I can say is that I served in the British army and enjoyed the camaraderie of comrades who served with me. We'll never be able to establish democracy there despite what the politicians want to believe...'

‘Democracy?' She questioned almost at the end of her tether. She regretted having started the conversation because it was so outrageous in her peaceful mind.

‘It's a political term. Nothing for you to worry about.'

‘You clearly feel very strongly about it.'

‘So would you if your friends and colleagues were injured or killed in the gunfire,' I snorted changing the subject as her expression indicated her displeasure. ‘So you won't be travelling abroad to another country.'

‘Firstly, I understand it would need money to do so. I haven't any. Secondly it's against the policy of the village to allow any of us to leave for any reason whatsoever especially as...' She tailed off in mid-flow preventing me from learning the secret the villagers kept to themselves.

‘Especially what?' I enquired as calmly as I could.

‘It's nothing,' she replied as though I was about to wrest the secret away from her.

‘So there's a constitution which you all follow,' I went on intending to press her more firmly.

‘You'll have to ask Mr. Townsend about it,' she told me adamantly. ‘I'm sure he'll answer that question for you.'

I was beginning to hate the sound of the Chairman's name. ‘Is it available in the library?'

‘Don't ask me!' She retorted almost buckling under the pressure. ‘I don't know. I've never seen it. You must realise that I was brought up in the village. The only things I know were passed down to me by my parents, friends and the committee.'

I relented somewhat, softening my approach. ‘You have to realise, darling, I'm a newcomer feeling my way into your society. That's the reason why I ask so many questions. I want to learn more so that I can integrate into your society much better. I love you and want to live here with you but everyone refuses to answer the questions I ask. They hold back on me which is very frustrating.'

She moved towards me and put her arms around my shoulders. ‘I'm sorry, darling,' she cooed. ‘I understand how difficult it is for you. But, as I told you before, you have to be patient. You'll know everything about the village and the people here in time. You will... I promise you.'

I huffed and puffed for a few moments before kissing her gently on the lips. ‘Let's go to bed,' I suggested knowing her reply in advance and she jumped at the idea, her eyes lighting up at the pleasure anticipated.

We went upstairs to the bedroom and undressed until we were standing facing each other in the nude. I pushed her gently on to the bed and started to kiss her cheeks and her neck. I began to feel her wilt as I ran my hands all over her body. My fingers trickled over her nipples and I began to smother her all over with a plethora of kisses before moving my hand between her legs. This was the moment when her ecstasy began and I moved my finger gently and very rapidly at the mouth of her vagina. In the past, our love-making was romantic and sensuous where we were both aroused and our emotions were heightened by the ultimate sexual act with a great deal of lust coupled with tenderness. On this occasion, angry with the frustration at being denied the information I wanted to know, I allowed my feelings to overcome me and I became rough with the woman. After ten minutes of foreplay, where she became fully aroused and extremely moist, I pressed myself inside her forcibly and repeatedly, causing her elements of pain. However, despite the roughness employed by me in the intimate sexual act, it seemed to excite her even more and she did not appear to mind. As we merged together, moving up and down in harmony, my mind drifted to the questions that remained unanswered rather than to the love and tenderness I needed to offer to the woman. My hands ran over her breasts until the nipples became sore and I believed that I had injured her slightly between the legs by the force exerted. Eventually, when we were both satisfied, I noticed the pain she was suffering as she went from the bed to the bathroom. When she returned, she looked at me thoughtfully.

‘It was different this time,' she said, although her tone was such that it was not a reproach. ‘You were a little rough.'

I hung my head with shame. ‘I'm sorry, I let my feelings get the better of me.'

‘Don't apologise,' she returned smiling. ‘I liked it. It was really good!'

She sat on the bed gingerly, wincing at the soreness between her legs, and I put my arms around her, touching her breasts lightly, noticing that she winced again at the soreness of her nipples. Yet she claimed that she had enjoyed it so there was no reason for me to feel guilty. However, I blamed myself for having lost something in the experience and I made myself a promise not to be so rough with her again. I loved this woman... the last thing I wanted to do was to hurt her.

* * *

Bridget, Robert and myself were having breakfast the following morning when Robert pushed his bowl of cereal aside and looked directly at me which he did not do normally.

‘I think you'd better come to the school today,' he rendered before turning away again.

‘Why should I do that?' I enquired puzzled. He had never wanted me to go anywhere near to the school before.

‘There may be trouble,' he went on, ‘and as you're the security officer for the village you ought to be there.'

‘What sort of trouble?' asked Bridget, with a frown appeared on her face. The classes had always been peaceful with the children extremely attentive.

‘It's not for me to say but someone ought to be there,' the boy continued seriously.

‘Is someone bullying you? Has anyone threatened you?' Bridget was quite concerned.

‘It's nothing like that,' stated the lad, standing up to collect his satchel. ‘I consider it to be far worse.'

‘You'll have to be more specific, Robert,' I told him. ‘What are you trying to tell me?'

He failed to answer, walking towards the door and looking back at me with an element of audacity in his eyes before leaving. I looked at Bridget who simply shrugged her shoulders aimlessly and shook her head, helpless to clarify the situation.

‘You know what boys are like,' she uttered slowly. ‘They make up all kinds of stories.'

‘I don't know,' I countered thoughtfully. ‘He's never said anything like this before. Why today? Why the school? Do you think I should go there to check it out?'

‘I wouldn't bother,' she said flatly. ‘He's just making it up to get our attention.'

I took her at her word for it and went to the entrance of the village once more to undertake the security role handed out to me. The morning passed by without incident. I sat on the stub of a tree waiting for strangers to try to get into the village but nobody came. It was at lunchtime when I went to the cafeteria only to meet the Secretary again. She was truly a beautiful woman but she didn't like me and she released all her inhibitions upon me the moment she came near.

‘You're the security guard supposed to be guarding the village!' She accused unreasonably. ‘Why aren't you at the school today?'

‘What's going on there?' I asked with concern that something might have happened to Robert. The boy had warned me of trouble but Bridget had discounted the idea as a tale.

‘A riot's going on,' stated the woman bluntly. ‘All the children in every class have started to riot.'

‘All the children,' I thought vaguely. What the hell was going on?

‘No one knows why they're doing it but the Headmaster's at his wits end. They smashed up the chairs and the desks... vandals every single one of them!'

‘Really,' I managed to say. ‘All the chairs and the desks!'

‘And where were you?' She snarled angrily. ‘Sitting on your backside at the entrance to the village where nothing was happening... wasting your time!'