The Beach House Ch. 02

And afterwards they lay beside one another, each of them consumed by their thoughts. She contemplated the life growing within her and what Lucy could do to destroy her fragile happiness, he tried in vain to imagine how they could survive outside of the sanctuary of the Beach House.

The silence between them stretched out like a black curtain until he felt compelled to speak.

'Are you all right, Sis?' he asked at length.

'What will happen to us?' she whispered, and there was a tremor in her voice. 'How can we ever have a life together?'

And he could not answer, for he did not know.

**

Lucy Bayliss-Carter sat in the little café in Torbess, waiting for the girl.

The clock behind the counter told her there were still a few minutes before Sarah arrived but she liked being early, for it put her at an advantage. She had chosen a table to one side but the restaurant was busy and other people were seated nearby - a mother and daughter laughing; a young man with earphones, listening to music; and a family eating fish and chips. Each of them busy with their lives and thoughts.

She reached into her purse and extracted the weekly report from Emily, and her eyes scanned over the words that interested her.

I have still been unable to find out who the baby's father is as Sarah has made no effort to see anyone. I must say this is unusual as most girls in her situation try to make contact with the father, unless it was a one-night stand or they simply don't know who he is. These events would be out of character for her, though, which suggests she does know but can't or won't see him.

During the week Sarah attended a pre-natal clinic on Wednesday and embarked in a small boat on the Thursday morning with Michael Ryan, her brother. The boat is rented from a local Ships' Chandler as their own vessel was lost in a storm some weeks ago.

I assume they were visiting their cottage on Brinsley's Head as the boat was loaded with furniture and provisions. The local fishermen told me that Sarah and her brother go out to the cottage at least once a week, although it has only ever been for a day. On this occasion they remained overnight, returning on Friday evening just before darkness. I observed Michael help his sister from the boat and the manner in which he did so suggests he might be aware of her condition.

There was a single photograph pinned to the report and Lucy studied it: an image of Sarah and her brother on the quayside beside their boat. Michael was facing the camera and Lucy could see he was taller than his sister and his colouring darker. Sarah was looking downwards into the boat, a smart little vessel painted white with red trim She was dressed in jeans and a padded jacket that hid any hint of pregnancy, and her face looked pinched and cold.

Lucy set the photo down, her eyes distant as she thought about what she had learned. Every single report mentioned Michael Ryan, so it was clear that he and Sarah were very close - but the question was, how close? Did he really know of her pregnancy, or was Emily just being fanciful? If he did know, did he also know about her, and was he a threat? And what were they doing spending nights together, alone in the little cottage sheltered from prying eyes? Lucy remembered the quiet solitude of the place and what she and the girl had done there, and for a fleeting moment she wondered if he could be the father of her child, but dismissed it as unlikely.

The memory of the Beach House triggered a picture of Sarah's slim white body kneeling between her thighs and the feeling of her little wriggling tongue, and the bright eyes watching, watching, judging the moment. Watching as the spiral of Lucy's climax rose like a phoenix to engulf her in a torrent of unbearable pleasure; and then, as she tripped over the edge, lapping at her fluttering labia to scoop up the thick cream, and laughing as cunt juice coated her lips and cheeks and chin.

And then with a jolt of dismay, Lucy remembered the girl had left her, and the image of was suddenly replaced by another: of that slender white body crouching over a shadowed figure, gasping as she lowered herself on his rampant cock. In horrifying detail she saw how the tight wet lips were levered apart by the gleaming shaft, and in her mind she heard the rasping of the girl's breath as she struggled to take him into her body.

And in her mind she saw the man's cream spurting from the great purple knob, racing to impregnate her; and she imagined how that slim, beautiful body would change - the belly thickening, swelling, bulging outwards to distort the perfect figure; the hair growing lank and greasy and the slender limbs thickening with fat and cellulite. She saw her on the delivery table, her once trim thighs set apart and her vulva bursting as she struggled to rid herself of the child - and for what? A few moments of pleasure? A life in shambles as she struggled to raise a bastard brat?

The thought of the girl's infidelity filled Lucy with a familiar surge of anger. We were happy and she left me. I gave her everything and she betrayed me. She is nothing but a whore.

The chime of the village clock broke into her thoughts and with a conscious effort Lucy crushed her resentment, forced her racing heart to slow. Today she needed to be calm, to decide whether to let the girl back into her life. Lucy considered the notion for a few moments: perhaps she could forgive her, but there would be a price for her deceit - a debt to pay. She smiled at the thought of the nights of pain and pleasure she would extract from that slim and beautiful body to make her truly repent, for wasn't suffering the only true way to cleanse the soul? And what about the child? Was their room in her life for the brat, too? Perhaps, if was a girl, she might keep her, to groom her for another time; but if it was a boy she would have to let him go.

She glanced at her watch, seeing the hands together at the top of the dial, and she saw Sarah walking towards her. She was dressed in jeans and a halter top and her body was slim and lithe as she moved between the tables with the grace of a panther. Her hair was longer than Lucy remembered, bleached to the colour of soft ash by the summer sun, and it was tied back with a scrap of ribbon to reveal the slim neck and shoulders, and she was beautiful.

The girl stopped beside the table and stared at her without speaking.

'Hello Sarah.'

'What do you want, Lucy?'

'I'd like to talk to you.'

'I don't think we have anything to say to each other.'

Lucy gave a hard smile that didn't touch her eyes. 'We have plenty to talk about Sarah, and it would be best if you heard it, if you know what's good for you.' Her eyes flicked to the table. 'Leave your things here - we'll walk a little.'

Sarah shook her head. 'Somebody will take them. Let's talk here.'

Lucy waved her hand towards the young man sitting nearby. 'Then leave them with Michael. I'm sure he won't mind waiting, and there's really nothing I want him to hear.' She saw the colour rising in the girl's cheeks and laughed. 'You really didn't think I was that stupid, did you?'

'I thought you might become angry and violent. He is here to protect me, that's all.'

'No he isn't. You wanted him to listen to me, to be a witness - and we can't have that. Now, are you coming, or not?' She saw the girl hesitate. 'I'll be calm, I promise.'

'Very well.' Sarah turned to follow her.

'Leave your phone with him as well,' Lucy demanded. 'We don't want any little surprises later with photographs or recordings, do we?'

They walked across the road in silence and Lucy turned into the little bridle path that followed the river. She could feel the girl's anger and resentment at being caught out, but she didn't care.

'I hear you're knocked up,' Lucy said at length.

'People hear a lot of things around here. That doesn't mean they are true.'

'When I hear it, it's true.' She glanced at the girl walking beside her. 'So you left me to get yourself a belly full of arms and legs.'

'I left you because you committed an act of gross indecency on me, and because I saw you for what you are.'

Lucy laughed. 'In some circles just about everything we did would be considered indecent, Sarah, or have you forgotten all of that?'

'That was consenting. What you did to me was not.'

The woman shrugged. 'You look well enough. Are you damaged? I don't think so.' She stopped suddenly and turned toward the girl, her eyes hard. 'Listen carefully. So I hurt your feelings - well, shit happens, Sarah, and we live and learn, but you're making a big mistake that will fuck up the rest of your life. You can do better than that. Come back to me and I'll forget this little transgression. We can be together, you and me and your little bra- um, your baby.'

'I don't think so.'

'You've made one mistake already,' the woman sneered, 'don't make another.'

Sarah studied her for a moment. 'You really don't get it, do you? We're done, Lucy. It was good for a little while but it's finished, and I've moved on and you should too. And guess what - it's no big deal - people break up all the time.'

'Not with me, they don't.'

'Really? Well that's pretty sad, because I'm sure you've got some other delicious little thing to share your bed with, haven't you.' She examined Lucy's expression, seeing that it was true. 'So have your fun with her, Luce, and leave me alone.'

'This is your last chance, Sarah.' Lucy's voice was savage. 'Come back to me or -'

Sarah laughed dismissively. 'Or what, Lucy? What will you do that will have me trembling in my boots?'

Lucy heard the tinkling notes of the girl's laughter and her resentment flared into a surge incandescent rage. She seized Sarah's arm and thrust her face closer, and her voice was filled with hatred. 'I'll make your life fucking miserable, that's what I'll do, you little slut! I'll fuck up you and your family and everyone you ever loved, and when I'm done you'll wish you'd never been born.'

For a moment Sarah stared at the woman and wondered how she had ever been attracted to her. Lucy's face was twisted like a rubber mask, the lips bared and little white teeth thrust forward like a bulldog's, and she could see specks of spittle on the woman's chin from the violence of her outburst. Her eyes were bulging too, almost as if they would burst from their sockets, and for a moment the girl thought she was having a fit.

'Have you finished?' she asked mildly.

'No I'm fucking not!' Lucy hissed. 'Not by a long chalk, you little slag! You owe me, and I'm not going to stand back and let you get away...not in a lifetime.' She gripped the girl's arm harder, her nails pressing into the smooth golden flesh. 'So make your tiny little mind up now - or my next visit will be to your mother to tell her all about her dirty little slut-fuck daughter.'

Sarah reached down with her right hand and prised Lucy's fingers off her arm, and she took a step back and regarded the older woman. 'I've already told her,' she lied, 'about you and what we did, and about the baby too - and do you know what, Lucy? She's OK with it. She forgives me, and nothing you can say or do will change that - so go right ahead and do your worst because -'

'Have you told her who the father is?' Lucy's voice was suddenly sly.

Sarah shook her head. 'Nobody knows. Not even me.'

'Really? Are you sure your brother doesn't? You spend a lot of time together. Perhaps -' Her words dried up suddenly as she saw how the blood had drained from the girl's face. In a sudden moment of delicious insight she realised her guess had been correct. 'It's him, isn't it?' she said. 'Michael is the father!'

'No he's not!'

Lucy giggled. 'Well, well!' she cooed. 'Who would have thought! You and your brother in that little love nest on the island. Was he good, Sarah? Did he give you as much pleasure as me?' She smiled into the girl's face. 'You know, I bet he did...I can see the two of you, writhing naked on the floor, just like you and I did.' Her eyes glittered with malice and she giggled again. 'I bet he just loved playing hide the sausage his little sister - hidden away where nobody could see him, safe from prying eyes -'

'You've got a filthy mind Lucy.'

'Not as filthy as yours. Perhaps your Mummy needs to know what you and little Mikey have been up to.' She laughed again. 'And I won't forget to use the right word, too - incest. She'll just love hearing that her kids have been fornicating together -'

Sarah thrust her face towards the older woman. 'Don't you dare threaten me, you bitch, or my very next phone call will be to the police! I'm sure they will be very interested to hear how you sit in cafes to solicit young girls, and what you do to them afterwards. How many have you got now? Two...three? Five?' she laughed softly. 'And you like them young, don't you, Lucy! How many of them are under age?'

The woman shrugged. 'You don't have a shred of proof.'

'But shit sticks, Lucy, if you get enough thrown at you. Do you really want the cops poking into your life, checking out your past and speaking to all the girls you've had? Every single one of them would tell the same story - about a debauched, bitter woman who has lied and cheated her way though life and gets her rocks off by hurting people.'

Lucy stared at the angry face before her. The slut was right - she didn't want the cops anywhere near her. It wouldn't take long for them to figure out her past - the drugs and the soliciting, the theft and the fraud - and then her life would unravel like a ball of string, hastened by the testimony of the girls she had hurt. That little tart Adele, for example, with her shrewd piggy eyes and smart mouth. She'd spout anything to pay her back. And what about that other one - what was her name? Mary? Miriam? Lucy had paid her a handsome sum to keep her little mouth shut, not to mention the shonky doctor who had fixed her up - but she knew they would come out of the woodwork as soon as they could.

'- so maybe you'd better back off,' Sarah continued. 'Let it go, Lucy, go back to your life and leave me alone.'

A red mist descended over Lucy's vision, but she managed to control it. 'Well don't say I didn't warn you,' she said savagely, and she turned on her heel and stormed away.

Sarah stood and watched her until she disappeared around a bend in the road. Her heart was pounding, but it gradually slowed and she took a deep breath. It was over, and she could move on. The horizon that had been in Lucy's shadow suddenly seemed brighter, more hopeful. Sure there were problems to overcome, but they were easier now, and she smiled as she walked back to the café.

But she was wrong, for her problems were just about to get a whole lot worse.

**

Lucille Carter-Bayliss had been born mean: or at least, that's what her mother said. She'd started life as a petulant baby and progressed to a bad-tempered child who seemed to delight in making the lives of those around her difficult. But the real meanness arrived with puberty when the plain little girl suddenly bloomed into stunning womanhood and discovered she could use her body as a weapon.

Her first time she'd done it was, paradoxically, with a man. She'd gone to a local bar with a friend called Cassie who she thought was inclined to girls, but soon found her mistake when two guys came over to chat them up.

'Tell them to get lost, Cass,' Lucy whispered. 'We don't need them.'

Cassie laughed. 'Jeez, Luce, why would we do that?' She regarded the approaching men with bold eyes. 'They're exactly what we've been waiting for.'

'But I don't -' Lucy started, but it was too late. They were there, and Cassie was welcoming them with beaming smile that promised everything they wanted. She put her arm around the younger one and smiled into his face.

'So let me guess, sweetie - um, a birthday party, right? Come to find a couple of girls to play with? Well - you've found them...haven't they Luce?'

Lucy said nothing. She had imagined spending an hour or two with Cassie in the bar to get her in the right frame of mind and the rest of the night in her bed, and she was annoyed that her instincts had been wrong. She felt a wave of hatred for the men well up in her soul like the bitter taste of vomit.

She turned to the nearer of the two. 'So what's your name?' His eyes were bright with alcohol.

'P-peter.' He stumbled on the word and Lucy could see he was nervous.

'And him?' she flicked her eyes in the direction of his companion.

'Richard.'

Lucy laughed. 'Well - Dick and Peter...how appropriate.' She examined his face for a moment, deciding how best to deal with him. 'Does Dick think he'll get to fuck her?' she asked at length.

'I - uh - I don't know...I guess he's hoping.'

'And what about you? Would you like to fuck me?'

'S-sure.'

Lucy rested her forearms on his shoulders and gazed into his eyes. She pressed her hips forward, feeling the heat of his body against hers. 'Well, that depends,' she said. 'Are you sure you're up for it? You look like a two minute wonder to me.'

'Other girls think I do OK.'

'Oh, so you've had other girls, have you? How many?'

'A few.'

'So tell me what you like doing best, lover boy.'

'I uh -'

'Do you like kissing them? Licking their tits? Having them suck your cock?'

Peter tried to pull away but Lucy had her arms around him. 'You're kidding me, right?' he said.

'Not at all. I'm interested what you like, Peter, so we can do it too.'

She felt him relax. 'Well - I like, well, you know - doing it with them' he said.

Lucy laughed, a low throaty chuckle. 'Doing it? You mean fucking, Peter. Say it...you like fucking them.' She ground her hips into his, finding the hardness of his cock pressing against her. 'Say it, Peter.'

'I, uh, like fucking girls.'

'And how do you fuck them?'

'What?'

'Tell me how you like to fuck girls. In the pussy? In the arse?'

'I've only ever had pussy.'

'Really?' Lucy thrust her hand between them and grasped his rigid length through his pants. 'Well, I don't fuck with my pussy, Peter. I'm not on the pill and I don't want to get up the duff. So do you think you could do me in the bum?'

'Uh, sure, if you want.'

'And I like a little role playing. Can you do that?'

'Like, what sort of role?' He clearly wasn't the brightest spark.

'Shit, I don't know...a teacher and girlie pupil, perhaps. Yeah...let's pretend you're my school teacher and you've just caught me drinking illegally so you grab my arm and march me out of the bar.'

She could see the interest in his eyes. 'That sounds great,' he said, 'and what happens next?'

'Have you got a car outside?'

'Yeah. It's a van.'

Lucy laughed. Men were so predictable - he probably had a mattress in the back as well. 'Well, you drag me outside and throw me in the back of your van,' she explained. 'I beg you not to tell my parents, and you relent but tell me you'll give me the strap, just to teach me a lesson.'

'I don't hit girls.'

Lucy rolled her eyes. 'You don't actually hit me, Pete. It's just part of the game, right?'

'Uh, well, sure.'

'OK. So you'll tell me to bare my arse for a leathering, but when you see it you'll decide to use it for something else. Do you understand?'

'Yeah.'

'Right then. Are you ready to start?'

Peter looked across at Cassie and his friend. 'What about them?'

'I'll tell her to wait half an hour before she can have the van. After that we might even make a foursome, if you like. Can you do that?'

Peter smiled. 'Let's find out, shall we? What's your name?'

'Candy. What shall I call you?'

'Pete.'

She shook her head. 'No, I mean what's your teacher name?'

'Ah, right. Um - say - Mr. Hardwick?'