I heard her upstairs, walking again across the creaking floorboards. I realized that she was about to return to the room. I was not ready! I made a sudden decision: I stripped off my outer clothes and while still wearing my underclothes I slid quickly under the sheets. I pulled them up to my chin.
Bella switched off the room’s central light as she entered the room. When she reached the end of the folding screen she looked straight at the bed and saw me lying there. I said nothing but returned her stare. She had loosened her hair from its bun, but she was still wearing the police uniform.
I said, ‘Nothing need happen tonight. We’re both tired.’
I was trembling. The sheets were unwashed in years, sticky to the touch, smelling like something that had been buried for a decade, cold and old and touching me all over. I longed to have her there in the bed beside me.
‘Is that how you want it to be?’ she said.
‘I’m freezing cold,’ I said evasively.
‘I am too.’
She stood there, dressed like a cop, with her long fair hair loose on her shoulders and a toothbrush in her hand. She made no move to come to bed.
‘I could still sleep on the floor,’ she said.
‘No. It won’t be like last night. I’d like you with me.’
I watched, and did not watch, as Bella undressed in the glow from the table lamp. With her back towards me she took off the uniform with care, folding the garments and laying them precisely over the back of one of the chairs. She removed her jacket first, then the thick khaki blouse and the dark serge skirt. Underneath she was wearing suspender belt, stockings, black pants and a strong, sensible bra. She took everything off, without performance but also without coyness. Still with her back to me she stood naked, and blew her nose on a paper tissue.
Before she turned round I said, ‘Do you want me to switch off the light?’
‘No,’ she said, turning towards me. She crossed to the bed, raised the sheets and slipped in beside me. The bed was not wide and the mattress sagged readily, so our bodies were in contact from the first moment she was there. Her flesh was icy cold. ‘Will you hold me?’ she said, her voice against my face.
My arm went easily around her – she was slim and her body shaped itself comfortably against mine. I could feel the plump weight of her breast on me, the prickle of her hair against my thigh. My hand rested lightly and naturally on one buttock. I was getting aroused already but did not move, not wanting to declare it yet.
She ran her free hand lightly over my stomach, then up to my breasts.
She said, ‘You’re still wearing your bra.’
‘I thought—’
‘You’re so shy, Lenden. You don’t have to do anything. Let me.’
She slipped her hand inside my bra and found my nipple, then kissed me on my neck. Pressing herself against me she slipped the bra strap down from my shoulder and bared one breast. She cupped it in a hand, and took my nipple gently in her mouth. Soon she had me naked and was crouching over me, her breasts lightly stroking my bare skin, her hand resting intimately between my legs. I stiffened, aroused and terrified.
Then she was astride me, creeping forward with her legs wide open, brushing herself over me. She guided my hand to her sex, thrust my fingers in, clamped down on me. One of her breasts filled my open mouth.
She left the table lamp alight, and although the room remained cold she soon had thrown back all the covers and was making love to me on top of them.
It ended at last. While Bella lay back on the bed, propped up against a pillow with a single sheet covering her, I went to the window and stared out into the night. The dark was impenetrable. My breathing steadied. I heard Bella moving in the bed, rearranging the bedclothes over herself.
‘Lenden, you’re still confusing me,’ she said.
‘How?’
‘Was that the first time you’ve been with another woman?’
‘No, of course it wasn’t.’
‘You seemed so nervous.’
‘I’m sorry. I can’t explain. Perhaps it was because it was the first time we were with each other.’
‘Why do you make it so difficult for yourself?’
‘I didn’t mean to.’ I was clutching one of the smelly old blankets around my body, the ancient woollen material feeling stiff against my skin. ‘Bella, I have to ask you something. It’s been bothering me.’
I turned back to face her and saw her reaching back to grip the brass bedhead behind her, her fists holding on to the rod almost exactly where Alvie had made dark marks on the wallpaper. Her long hair was trailing down across her shoulder. I looked away quickly.
‘What is it?’ she said.
‘You said you’d volunteered for this job. You seemed to know about me, the kind of woman I am. Is that right?’
‘Yes.’
‘Then how did you know before you met me?’
‘Lenden, I’m a cop. There are files on everyone these days. It’s not difficult for me to access them. You’ve never asked about my life, so you wouldn’t know. But last year I split up with my lover, and I’ve been alone ever since. You don’t know how difficult it is to meet the right people. Or maybe you do. I was getting lonely, really lonely. Then I realized I had been in the police long enough to be eligible for escort work. I thought it might be a way of meeting people.’
‘So you make a habit of this.’
‘No … it’s the first time. I promise you. When I met you yesterday, at the station, as soon as I saw you I was – attracted to you.’
I said, ‘They have that about me on file? That I’m homosexual?’
‘They’re more circumspect than that. They list known partners or lovers. The file said that you had had lovers, and I could see their files too. They were all women. Of course. So I—’
‘Why are the police interested?’
‘It’s not only the police. The files are compiled by the Seigniory, and we can get access to them. I know I shouldn’t have done it. And I shouldn’t have told you.’
The cold was seeping into me and although I clutched the clammy blanket more tightly it did no good. I sat down on the end of the bed, feeling Bella’s leg close beside me.
‘Are you angry?’ she said.
I thought about that, searching my feelings as frankly as I could. In the end I said, ‘No, not angry. Certainly not with you, not even with the government. I’ve gone past caring.’
‘But you still weren’t certain of me?’ Bella said.
‘No.’
‘What’s the problem?’
‘I can’t tell you.’
‘Are you involved with a man now?’ she said.
‘No.’
‘Another woman, then?’
‘No, not that either.’
‘I wish I knew what it was.’
‘If we stay together maybe I’ll find a way of telling you,’ I said. ‘I don’t want to make a mystery of it. I’m glad we’ve made love, but we still hardly know each other. Don’t rush me.’
‘How do I slow down?’
‘You could tell me you’d like to see me again. After this, I mean. When we’re back on the mainland.’
‘Come back to bed, Lenden. We’re both cold. We can hold each other. I want you with me. We can meet again after this trip, whenever you like.’
So I crawled under the bedclothes and this time she turned out the table lamp. We kissed affectionately, then lay still for a while. When we were feeling warmer she made love to me again. I tried not to stiffen against her. I tried to yield, tried to enjoy, tried to feel not only the urging of lust but also the release of it. It was easier the second time, but not by much. I was beginning to learn her body, as she was learning mine. Some time later she fell asleep, curled up comfortably against me. I was sitting up against the pillows, leaning my head on the brass rails behind me, my hair falling down and covering one of my breasts. The bed smelt of bodies.
Something happened to me inside that dead tower while Seri was outside wi
th the priest. I can describe what it was, but I cannot explain it. There was no warning of it and I had no fearful premonition. It is simply what occurred and it is that which has remained to haunt my life ever since.
I was irritated with Seri and curious about what she was doing out there with the priest who had followed us. She had suddenly awakened my sexuality, filled my heart with promises and hopes, but then she twice denied me. I wanted the knowledge she had seemed to be offering and although I did not realize it at the time I craved the consequent knowledge of myself.
She had told me to wait, though, to stay out of sight. I was prepared to do both, but not for long. I had expected her to get rid of the priest as quickly as possible, but instead she was still out there with him.
Thinking of what was going on outside I barely registered the sound of a low snuffling that came to me over the noise of the wind.
I was picking up my pullover, retrieving Seri’s pants. I was about to go outside to join her because I wanted to know what she was doing.
I was stuffing her pants into my skirt pocket when I heard the noise again. It surprised me. I had heard it the first time without really thinking about it and had ignored it, but then it happened again. It was like nothing I had ever heard before. It was animalistic but there was a human quality to it too, as if some beast had managed to form half a spoken word before reverting to a grunt. It did not frighten me. I thought for a moment that Seri might have returned and was playing some kind of joke on me.
I called her name, but there was no answer.
I stood in the centre of the floor of the crumbling tower, looking around, thinking for the first time that perhaps some large beast was in the vicinity. I listened, trying to screen out the persistent noise of the wind so that I could hear the sound again.
A beam of Seevl’s bright cool sunlight was striking in through one of the high windows, illuminating the wall beside the door. Like much of the rest of the tower this part of the wall was crumbling away. A jagged hole, about the size of a man’s head, had formed in the inner wall. Beyond, the cavity of the tower wall was revealed, with the great grey stones of the main outer structure dimly visible behind. It was one of several such holes in the wall that I could see, but I was suddenly certain that this one was the source of the animal noise.
I stepped towards it, still thinking that Seri must be behind it somehow, fooling around outside the door.
Something moved deep inside the cavity and although I was staring straight at the place I saw only a dark, quick movement. The sun went in as one of the clouds passed in front of it. It suddenly seemed much colder. Moments later the sun came out again but the feeling of cold remained. I knew then that the chill was in me.
I placed my hand on the brickwork, leaning towards the hole, trying to peer down into it. I did not want to go too close but I was convinced someone, or something, was in there. I could sense a gentle heat, as of a living body. I reached down tentatively, into the dark.
There was a violent noise, a shocking burst of movement and something inside the wall grabbed my hand.
It pulled me, dragging my arm down into the hole until my shoulder scraped painfully against the stonework. I screamed in surprise, gasping in terror. I tried to pull back to free myself, but whatever it was that had taken hold had sharp claws or teeth and they were biting into my skin. My face was jammed sideways against the wall, the skin of my bare upper arm grazing agonizingly against the broken stones around the edge of the hole.
‘Let go!’ I shouted helplessly, trying to tug my arm away.
As the thing grabbed me I had instinctively balled my hand into a fist. Now I could feel it contained in something wet and warm, hard on one side, soft on the other. I pulled again and the grip of the teeth tightened. Whatever it was in there was no longer dragging me down but was holding me. When I pulled back against it the sharp teeth tightened around me. Many of them felt as if they were backward-pointing, so that to pull against them dragged my flesh against their sharp edges.
I unballed my fingers slowly, painfully aware that to loosen them was to expose them. The tips pressed against something soft and I again clenched my fist reflexively. I shuddered, wanting to scream again but lacking the breath to do so.
I had been seized by something with a mouth.
I knew that from the moment it took hold, yet it was too horrible to accept. Some animal crouching in the wall cavity, some huge, rank animal had taken my arm in its mouth and was holding me. My knuckles were jammed against the hard roof of its mouth, my tightly balled fingers were against the coarse surface of the tongue. The teeth, the fangs, had closed about my arm, just above the wrist.
I tried turning my arm, attempting to twist it free, but the teeth closed more tightly on me the instant I moved. I shouted in pain, knowing that the flesh must have been torn in many places and that I was surely bleeding down into the animal’s mouth.
I shifted my feet, trying to balance, thinking that if I could only stand more firmly I would be able to pull harder. The animal, though, had dragged me over at an angle as it drew me down. Most of my weight was consequently on the shoulder jammed against the wall. I moved a foot, shifted some of my weight on to it. The fangs tightened on me again as if the animal sensed what I was doing.
The pain was awful. The strength I was using to hold my fingers closed was draining away and I could feel my fist loosening. Again my fingertips touched the hot, quivering surface of the tongue and drooped towards the throat. Miraculously I still had the sense of touch. I could feel the hard glossy gums, the slick sides to the tongue. It was the most disgusting thing I had ever felt in my life.
The animal, having a firm hold of me, was trembling with some kind of unfathomable excitement. I could feel the head shivering and the breath rasping in and out over my arm, cold against the wounds as the animal inhaled, wet and hot as it exhaled. I could smell its stench now: it was sweet with the saliva of animalism, rancid and foetid with the smell of carrion.
I tugged once more in desperate, disgusted terror, but the agony of the gripping teeth redoubled. It felt as if it had almost bitten through me. A ghastly image flashed into my mind of being able to withdraw my arm at last and seeing it severed through, the sinews dangling from the stump, the blood pumping away. I closed my eyes, gasping again with horror and revulsion.
The animal’s coarsely textured tongue started moving, working around my wrist, stroking my palm. I felt as if I was about to faint. Only the pain, the intense, searing agony of torn muscle and crushed bone, kept me conscious to suffer longer.
Through the veils of pain I remembered that Seri was somewhere outside the tower, not far away. I shouted for help but I was weakened. My voice came out as a hoarse whisper. The door was only a short distance from me. I reached over with my free hand and pushed at it. It swung outwards and I could see down part of the slope, across the long grass. The brilliant cold sky, the dark rising moors, the long crag above, but no sign of Seri.
Staring through tear-filled eyes, unable to focus, I stayed helpless, leaning against the rough stonework as the monster in the wall cavity ate my arm.
Outside, the wind made shifting light-coloured patterns on the thick, waving grass.
The animal began to make a noise, an iteration of the first sound it had made. It growled deep inside its throat; beneath my helpless fingers the tongue was quivering. The animal sucked in its cold breath and I felt the jaw tense. It growled again more loudly. Somehow, the sound made my fevered imagining of the animal more detailed: I saw a huge wolf’s head with deep-set eyes, a long fur-covered snout, flecks of foam on a dark muzzle. The pain intensified and I sensed the animal’s increased excitement. The noises from its throat were coming regularly now, in a quick rhythm, faster and faster as its hold on my arm tightened. The agony was so acute that I was certain it must have almost bitten through me. I tried once again to pull away, resigned to losing my hand if that was what it was going to take to gain my release. The animal held on, che
wing more viciously, snarling at me from within its hidden den below. The pain was intolerable. The animal noises were coming so quickly they joined into one continuous howl.
Then, inexplicably, the jaw sagged open and I was released.
I slumped weakly against the wall, my arm still dangling inside the cavity. The pain, which throbbed with every heartbeat, began to recede. I was sobbing with relief and agony, but also from terror of the animal which was still there below me in the wall cavity. I dared not move my arm, believing that even one twitch of a muscle would provoke another attack. However, I knew it was my chance to snatch away what was left of my arm.
My tears ceased because I was more afraid than upset. I listened carefully: was the animal breathing, was it still there?
I could no longer feel the breath moving across me. Was it because my arm had lost all sensation? Certainly the pain had ceased. My arm was numb. I imagined rather than felt my fingers hanging uselessly from my mangled hand and wrist, blood pulsing down into the animal’s snout below.
A deep revulsion stirred me at last. Not caring if the animal should attack me again I stood away from the wall, withdrawing my shattered arm from the cavity. I staggered back and supported myself by resting my good hand against the fallen beam. I looked at the injuries done to me.
My arm was whole, my hand was undamaged.
I held my arm before me, disbelieving what I saw. The sleeve of my blouse had been torn as I was dragged through the hole in the stonework, but there were no marks on the skin itself, no lacerations, no indentations of teeth marks, no torn flesh, no blood.
I flexed my fingers, bracing myself against the expected pain, but they moved normally. I turned my hand over, looking at it from all sides. Not a mark, not even a trace of the saliva I had felt running over me. My palm was moist but I was sweating all over. I touched the arm gingerly, feeling for the wounds, but as I pressed down on the sore areas the only sensation I could feel was of my own fingertips pressing against unhurt flesh. There was not even a ghost of the pain I had suffered. There was a faint, unpleasant smell on my hand, but as I sniffed at the backs of my fingers, at my palm, it faded away.