Sweet Satisfaction (Purple UGC Winner 2014)

Sweet Satisfaction - Twenty-Two

Twenty-Two

Icy cold. Impossibly icy cold water slapped me from all directions, a horrible stinging sensation. I felt my hands reach out to the shallow bottom of the pond, knees buckling, skidding onto my stomach.

My sodden garments stuck to my skin whilst my cheeks burned. I tried to take deep breaths, clutching my winded stomach as my heart raced. My body ached. I rolled over, gasping, stones crunching and piercing into me from beneath as wood from the dilapidated bridge drifted past me.

Bobby waded towards me, eyebrow poised upwards, mouth open wide. He lifted me up by one of my bleeding elbows. Blood also dripped off my chin and rolled off the tips of my sore fingers.

Since I had been standing there like a sack of potatoes, Bobby scooped me up in his arms and carried me to the grass. I didn’t fight from his improper gesture; I was so exhausted from the impact when I hit the ground, the sudden thump. My ripped skirt had ridden up, exposing flesh-torn, stinging knees streaked grotesque white mingled with scarlet dots. All over me I smelt sticky blood. I swayed, feeling dizzy, envisioning the trickles turning into gushing rivulets that filled the whole pond red.

Bobby stumbled forward and we crashed through some lavender bushes. Ridiculously, I started laughing and sneezing at the same time as Bobby rolled off me from his indecent position. We both lay giggling, fingertips brushing together, winded.

Suddenly, Bobby sprang to his knees.

“Elsie, you’re bleeding really badly!” I shrugged my shoulders, grinning bashfully, head still swimming. Why had the bridge collapsed just like that? It had fallen, fallen like the piano. It was nearly four months ago, get a grip, Elsie!

“Let me take you to my home; Eliza can work miracles on those sort of cuts,” he offered. He thought I shivered because of the droplets still dripping from my tangled hair but I shivered with the fear of meeting his wife, or even worse, his mistress.

An hour later, relief was draining from me as if it was being sucked down a plughole. Sunshine burst in my heart; Eliza was his sister!

Screaming came (on my part) when she stitched my chin and bathed my gashes, her thin eyebrows and mouth clamped firmly together like her lank hair, which was twisted in a bun. Bobby and Eliza were just the same as Mary and I – daylight and dark; bonded by blood.

As a wailing siren sounded, I asked Eliza who the father of the baby was.

“I am married,” she gasped back, horrified at my proposition.

*****

“And then Eliza bursts into tears and tells me about her sailor lad. I felt so awful!” It was the following day, and I had just finished explaining to Susanna what had happened, still a little shaken up and achy. All these scars- both physical and emotional. I kept replaying the scene in my head- why had the railing fallen away, why when I was on it? Why had the lift broken down in London when I was in it? Why was I the first one to see the Zeppelins? Why was it always me?

Susanna and I had just reached the open space at the bottom of the stairs where the Minton tiles glistened under a gold chandelier. More light bounced off the mirrors hanging between family portraits.

“Elsie!” Susanna hissed. She tugged at my sleeve. I stopped. John Knowlbodye Junior was walking towards me.