CHAPTER 27
I slept well that night, even though my dreams were a little confused, and the dawn’s light had been replaced by a Summer morning when I eventually emerged from the tent. Mam and Dad had slept in the van, which felt a little strange at first, but it was simply another stage of my healing and growth.

From the day of our meeting, I had slept between or by them, except in our winter house, and now I was being given my own space, possibly as a recognition of greater maturity but maybe as a hint that my life was now a safe one.

Our camp kitchen remained in the tent, so I set the kettle going before breaking out a pack of bacon and some sausages, as this was one rally without Fester’s presence. Once the water was heating, I used our little Elsan for a wee and then began breakfast. Eggs, beans, bacon and sausages were ready to plate when I tapped on the van’s door with two mugs of tea.

The expression on Mam’s face told me the other reason for my solitary sleeping. I raised an eyebrow at her, and she grinned happily.

“I am far, WE are both far from being too old, love! That brekky going?”

“Yup! Ready to serve when you are ready to rise. I think a shower later, though!2

“Cheeky mare!”

“Dirty old woman!”

“Less of the old, girl! Anyway, up and out and get the stock on display”

Dad wasn’t far behind, and after we had eaten, he set his little miracle of engineering going, and I found myself drifting back to the first time I had used it, so many years ago: a whole life ago. In fact.

For very obvious reasons, I didn’t need the shower as much as they did, and when they shared it ‘to save water’, I smiled and gave up on them, setting up the stand and beginning the day’s trade. A red kite was circling overhead, looking for any scraps to steal, and early mist was burning away from the mountains as the temperature rose with the sun. I confirmed my earlier thoughts, that this was indeed the best of all possible lifestyles. Early customers loaded up on sunglasses and bandannas for bald patches, a hum of conversation building up as singletons and groups headed either for the host club’s kitchen or the pub, open for an enthusiastic breakfast trade.

The morning drifted past in comfort and occasional conversation until about ten o’clock, when Carl stopped by for a cup of tea. He settled into one of the spare seats next to Dad, eyes half-closed as he basked in the strengthening sun, until he jerked awake.

“Fuck, Badger! Every bloody year, the same joke!”

“What’s that, mate?”

“Over there. Rally virgins. By the food tent. Enough to put people off their breakfast! At least it’s not cold”

I was a little puzzled at that, thinking he meant cold breakfast, then caught where he was looking, to see two naked figures staked out on the grass.

“Mam?”

“Yes, love?”

“Want to bet that’s some of your tent pegs over there?”

“Most probably, love. Tell you what: next time we come, I bring a few pairs of handcuffs for them”

It was that sort of morning. At noon, another patch club pulled in, Carl’s relaxation disappearing as he went over to discuss what he called ‘business’. Once it was clear that there were no issues, Dad sighed.

“Know something, mi ducks? I don’t think I can be arsed with working this one. Haven’t been somewhere so laid back for ages, and it’s just reminding me why I love this life”

I laughed out loud, and as he gave me a quizzical look, I did my best to explain.

“I was having the same thought when I got up, like. Then you two had the shower going, and I was remembering, you know, that first time I used it”

Mam’s face hardened.

“You OK, love?”

“Oh, abso bloody lutely! Counting blessings and stuff, that’s me. What Dad said, it was exactly what I was thinking. What’s he thinking, though?”

Dad looked up, grinning.

“Oh, I think that I will take my beloved wife here for a decent meal, over in that pub. I will have a beer or two, then come back here to meet their friends, and if my little girl here wants some time by herself, I suspect that there is a young man who might be persuaded to look after her. What do you want to do about food, duck? Eat with us, or grab something on site with Goat?”

“Who?”

“Carl’s other name. Oh, look. They’ve let the virgins go. That’s him over there; why don’t you wander over and say good morning?”

I didn’t need a second invitation, so I just grinned and set off towards my friend, who was talking to a huge man with a drooping blonde moustache. He must have been at least six foot six, and none of his bulk was fat. I hung back a little until I saw that both were smiling as they spoke, then made my way to join them, Carl grinning happily as I approached.

“Morning, Deb! Steve, this is Debbie, a friend’s daughter. Deb, Steve. He’s English, but never mind that. Where’s your mate the copper, Steve?”

“He’s not a copper, Goat, and you know it. Working this weekend, he is, so no chance. I was bloody lucky to get the weekend off myself, so I will be making the most of it! Hiya, Debs! Got any single friends?”

Something about the big man rang so clear and true that I couldn’t help liking him.

“I thought I had, but she’s brought some lad with her on what Dad calls a stinkwheel, but I think her brother’s single”

I felt the ground move when he laughed.

“Fuck me, mate, are you two well-suited! Right: I am off to stretch my legs and see what the pub has in bar meals, then I will be exploring and extending the envelope of sobriety. The liver is evil, and must be punished!”

He then did something that impressed me, holding his arms just wide enough to initiate a hug, but not simply stepping forward and taking one. Here I am; if you want one, the hug is there, but no presumption.

That hug was firm, and polite, and it confirmed my assessment of his fat levels. He stepped back, grinned once more and then shook Carl’s hand before striding off towards the pub. Carl turned to me.

“Good man, that one. Sound as a pound. Now, shall we see if Rosie has finished screwing that beanpole’s brains out yet?”

She had indeed, and I was only slightly jealous that she had a small tent of her own to share with Nutty, who was sitting outside it brewing tea on a little camping stove. Carl was straight into conversation, no introduction, and certainly no request for my consent to his plans.

“That smelly piece of shit OK for a passenger, Nutty? We are taking a run up onto the hill tops. You and Rosie want to tag along?”

The younger lad nodded.

“I’ll need to fill up on the way, but yeah, be nice. You want, Rose?”

She looked past us, and her expression was almost unreadable for a second, before she shook herself and grinned.

“That be the four of us? Yeah! That sounds ace! If we stop for him to fill up the Kwak, we can sort a picnic. What are your parents up to, Debbie?”

“Having a pub lunch, then shutting up shop, girl. Dad says this is too chilled a do for us to waste it working”

Her answering grin was more like her usual self, and I started to relax a little more. Carl knew someone, who knew someone else who had a spare helmet, and we made good time on his Triumph as Nutty seemed to struggle a little on the bends. I sat comfortably behind him, hands on his hips, and it all felt to abso bloody lutely right, little Billy disappearing into the back of my memories as the bike surged and banked, and a good-looking man took me higher in more ways than one.

It seemed to be a popular spot at the edge of the escarpment, an old quarry standing sentinel as we sat on close=cropped grass, trying to spot the rally site, and then our individual tents. Rosie spent some time lying on her back with her head in Nutty’s lap, watching another kite as it surfed the updraught along the escarpment, as her lad fed her nibbles and bites of our picnic.

The return was manic, hairpins on the road seeming to inspire Carl to push the bike’s handling, which left the other two a considerable distance behind, until we arrived at the turn-off for the side road leading to our rally. The bikes were parked up, the afternoon continued, and at no time did Carl leave my side apart from twenty minutes of ‘business’ with the English MC.

As the evening settled in, we left Mm and Dad to their ‘proper meal’ as Carl treated me to more traditional rally fare, and by this time I had indeed changed into Those Boots, which went well with a shorter denim skirt in my opinion. Apparently, that opinion was shared by Nutty, who received a slap on the back of his head from Rosie after spending a little too much time staring.

There was beer, which I drank, along with some wine, and then the band cut loose, and I was away. The heels were awkward to walk in at first, but that became easier, and with the alcohol, the dancing became easier too, and then natural, and finally sensuous, and everything was as right and natural as it could be, for Carl was a dancer too, and as Rosie and Sam let themselves go, while Nutty did his best, I was joined by Mam and Dad, who were as utterly gone and into the groove of that evening as I was.

It was Carl who was in my eyes, though, and often in my arms as we danced, and I in his, and we ended up in the darkness outside, because I needed a pee, and so did Carl, so of course we walked out together into the warmth of the night, and his arms were strong as he held me by our van, and then his lips were soft on the tip of my nose.

I raised my head, just a little, so his lips would be on mine, and then I moved closer, and my lips had to pen, and his tongue was there, and, oh. I could feel him, and I knew exactly what it was that felt so hard through his jeans, but his hand was on my breast, under my shirt, and, once again, oh…

He led me to his tent, drawing me inside, and my T-shirt was off, and my bra, as we lay on his sleeping bag, and his mouth was on my nipple, and oh god, and then he kissed the back of my neck, just the once, and Charlie was there, his weight on me, his cock pushing hard, and I could feel myself freezing and beginning to tremble, and so could Carl.

“Debbie? You OK?”

“No…”

“Come here; lift up, just a bit”

He half-turned, pulling the bag out from underneath before pulling it over us both, pulling me into his arms. His voice was quiet, as if he was soothing a frightened puppy.

“Horse told me, girl. I couldn’t really believe it. Don’t care, though. Not now. How badly did they…”

The trembling almost went out of my control, but he was still there, not running, not spitting on me or hitting me, and all he did was hold me.

“That badly. Someone needs a lesson, I think. Now, I don’t do anything without permission, I don’t take without an invitation, and I do not think you are in a fit state for either, so this is my offer, girl. And girl you are, aye? I can see that, Rosie can, your Mam and Dad, aye? So you just settle down here. Sleep with me here, or I walk you back to your tent, but either way, you are safe. Nobody comes at you through me”

I found my voice after a little while.

“Sorry…”

“Don’t be so fucking dense, girl. Being raped isn’t a crime, not a stain. You comfortable?”

“Yes…”

I don’t know how, but I slept until dawn, wrapped in his arms.

I never slept with him again.