school photos 39

Somehow, in a short time, we’d grown used to each other, or at least I was used to him sitting there listening to me. Telling him the next part was easier. ‘I was chitterin’ with the cold and it had begun to rain. But even though there was only the stars and clouds for company I’d my hands down protecting my shrivelled little cock and balls. To begin with I kept to the long grass, but it was too jaggy and sore on my bare feet. I hopped, skipped and jumped onto the soft grass of the fairways. Something or someone was watching me.  Rustling and the sound of something in the bushes made me run. A crow lifted its black cloak of feathers off  the branch of a rowan tree and cawed, once, twice, three times, as if signalling, and circled overhead and flew higher and higher. In the murky light, I was shiteing myself. I hunted the verges for a big stick, or even a small crooked stick, but I ran into one on the green, taking the metal pin and flag for a par four out of the hole and waving it about. I wasn’t sure if that would be enough. Below it a ragged line of wolves padded to the edge of the thicket, or at least I think they were wolves. All I could see was the low orbs of their yellowish eyes, lit up, like slow blinking Very lights. Even though it was no good and I couldn’t escape, I sprinted away from them. But I could hear them gaining on me. Even as I felt the thump on my back,  knocking me down and into the mud, my mind was trying to work out whether you played dead for bears or wolves, or was it just bears?’

            Mr Williams was leaning forward, kneading his hands, waiting for me to say something more, but I couldn’t remember any more. ‘What made you think they were wolves?’ he asked.

            I shrugged. ‘Dunno. I usually just wake up at that point.’

            ‘Interesting,’ he said. ‘Freud, of course, wrote about his treatment of a wolf man.’ His pink lips grimaced through his facial hair and he sank backwards into his chair. ‘You do know who Freud is, don’t you?’

            ‘Course I do. Fat guy. Liberal MP. Good for nothing.’  

            ‘Har, har,’ he said in his plummy accent.

            I chuckled at having caught him out and we were silent for a few seconds. He shifted in his chair and I got the feeling that was us done for the day. He looked round at the phone on his desk then back at me, as if he was waiting for me to ask him a question.

            ‘One more thing,’ he said, ‘it would be remiss of me not to ask, you do have sisters Ally and Jo?’

            ‘Yeh,’ I replied.

            He nodded as if he already knew that and his phone began to ring. ‘You don’t mind if I get that do you?’

            I was already up and out of my chair before he picked up the receiver. He pulled his short legs and chair in tight to his desk to let me past him, and hung onto the phone, facing the frayed Post-it notes he’d tacked up on the office wall.  I clicked the door shut behind me.

            Outside in the corridor the ward looked the same, but I felt different, drained, as if I’d taken some marathon oral examination in a subject I didn’t know, in a language I didn’t speak. It was still early, but I needed to go and lie down on my bed. I must have given off a sickly smell or aura because nobody in the hallway even looked at me or tried to tap me for a fag. It felt like being a ghost in one of my dreams again. I went to go into my room, but   buggered it up and went into the wrong one. The curtains were closed over, but there was enough light from outside to show the woman who’d been given my room must have been sleeping. When I crashed into the room she sat up and started screaming and shrieking. I pulled the door open, looked down the corridor, and dashed outside. Janine was standing at her door smoking an Embassy King Size with an amused look on her face. Her elbow nudged the door to her room open and she gave a throaty laugh and with a nod of her head invited me inside.

            Janine closed the door behind her. I paced at the foot of her bed and I turned to her.

            ‘I didn’t do nothing,’ my voice was beseeching her to believe me.  

            ‘Don’t worry,’ she said. ‘That woman’s fuckin’ crazy.’

She squeezed past me patting my bum, her long hair flicking and falling over her shoulders, as she tipped her head to the one side and sat on the edge of the bed, glancing up at me, her blue eyes glistening. She arched her neck back so that my eyes fell on to her throat and drifted down to the mounds of the top of her tits, pinched together in a red bra and barely covered over by the top two shank-holed buttons of fawn cheesecloth, darker skin showing against virgin white. Her shoes were eased off with a slapping sound and she stabbed her fag out in an ashtray beneath the bed. Ashtrays dotted the room, on the window, on the cabinet beside her bed and under, her bed. It wouldn’t have surprised me if she’d one in the bed with her.

Her mouth broke into a grin, showing a red lipstick mark on her lower canine. ‘All the woman are crazy in here; especially me’. She started screaming too, really going for it. She batted my hands away as I tried to shut her up. We rolled about her bed and she still kept screaming. I put my hand over her mouth and she bit me hard.  I pulled my hand away and shook it to see if it would bleed. After that I pinned her arms with my hands and used the weight of my legs to pin her torso to the bed, lying on top of her and shutting her up with my mouth on hers. Her hips began to writhe beneath me. I knew she’d be wet and aching for sex.

Myra the SEN burst into the room. We looked up at her. She looked over at us and closed the door quietly as she left me with the crazy woman.

Janine found my cock and I found the mound of her and the sea of her hair. We rocked back and forth, the bed springs squeaking for us faster and faster and the bed sinking and falling like a runaway rocking horse and my sweat was her sweat and there was a shifting and a giving and taking.

‘Don’t come inside me,’ she whispered through clenched teeth. ‘I’ve not been given my injection for the month.

‘Okay,’ I said, but it was already too late. But then I did stop, dead, mid-thrust, her back arched and my insides stuck together like a box jelly-fish. Something about the way her hair was lying, and the fragrance of our sex reminded me of one of the girl’s faces I’d seen under the pillow in my dreams.     

‘Fucking hell,’ I said.