Amy Cooper Forever

by Craig Mullins

  “Around eleven o’clock I went to the bathroom, it was empty but just after I went into the cubicle I heard the door go. I thought nothing of it. When I came out Pete was there, he was drunk and made a grab for me. I laughed and told him to behave and besides he had the wrong room that this was the ladies. He then told me he had the right room and that I’d been teasing him all night and it was time for him to collect. Before I knew it he’d grabbed my hair and pushed me up against the wall. I struggled and told him to get off but his hands were everywhere.His fingers probed so deep it hurt, and I heard him undo his trousers and felt the warmth of him on my leg, he was having trouble getting it up thank god.” She paused, struggling to get the words out. “He would have raped me if he’d been able too. That’s why I’m leaving.”

  Sian spent the next couple of hours trying to persuade her to stay, she also managed to get out of her that Richard was the one that stood guard at the toilet door stopping anyone else going in while Pete tried his best to fuck her best friend. One way or another she would make them pay.

  She got Richard first, she knew he loved the idea of being a cop, the uniform, the status. For him being a police officer was about power, she wanted to make sure he would never be able to become what he wanted. Her opportunity came when a group of them said they were heading to the west end, her and the sole remaining female recruit – Lucy - decided to join them. Boys will be boys and there first port of call had been the sex shops of Soho. There were a good half a dozen of them plus the two girls, Lucy had suggested to Sian that they go shopping rather than follow the boys around. Sian had agreed but said that there was one thing she had to do first, and unfortunately it meant they had to go into the shop with the boys. As they were larking about waving dildo’s around and looking at magazines, Sian took her opportunity and slipped a couple of videos into Richard’s back pack which he’d left unattended. Once she was done she grabbed Lucy by the arm and told her they were out of there. On the way out she went up to what looked like the manager and advised him that one of the group of young men had put some things into a back pack. She pointed him out and they left.

  It wasn’t until they got back later that evening that they discovered recruit Richard Skinner had been arrested on suspicion of theft earlier in the day. As it turned out the shop dropped the charges as the items were returned but he was excluded from the course because in the words of their superiors ‘a man like that cannot be expected to uphold the laws that he was so incapable of following himself.’ One down one to go Sian thought. She had had an enjoyable day with Lucy, they discovered they had quite a bit in common, same music and fashion sense, they both loved football but disagreed on which team was the best.

  Getting Pete kicked out was going to be trickier, Sian not only wanted him out she wanted him locked up after what he did to her friend. Her plan was simple, but first she had to get something. She knew that if she was caught it would spell the end of her career in law enforcement. If it worked it would stop a monster gaining any power, she didn’t want to think what sort of police officer Pete Donaldson would make. She decided her best chance was to go to the local nightclub after everyone was asleep, they weren’t supposed to leave the accommodation but she was prepared to risk it.

  At eleven she snuck out, her party clothes on under a pair of jogging bottoms and sweater, if she got caught leaving she would claim she was going for a run. In her pocket was a black bin liner into which she put her outer clothes once she was clear of the perimeter and hid it behind a bush ready for her return.

  It was a ten minute walk to the Paradiso nightclub, the night was warm but with her mini skirt and crop top the slight breeze started to chill her. By the time she joined the end of the queue she was cold, luckily for her the people in front were moving quite quickly, she was in the warm within five minutes.

  Once inside she did a quick recce of the place, the music was loud and not really her scene at all. As she walked amongst the gyrating bodies of men and women she must have been groped a half dozen times, it made her wonder why anyone would put themselves through it. She could see the sign for the toilets straight ahead and knew that if she was to get what she wanted it would be somewhere in that vicinity. The other thing she noticed about places like this was the smell, a mixture of over indulgent cologne and perfume mixed with sweat and pheromones. Ten feet away she spotted him, the sly handshake, the knowing nod, he was definitely the one she was looking for. She made her way to him, “How much for Coke?” She asked.

  “Ten.”

  She’d anticipated the cost, and already had a ten pound note in her hand which she held out to him. As she did his hand went to his inside pocket and retrieved a small bag. They exchanged and she went, she headed straight out of the club.

  She made it back to her room without incident, her roommate hadn’t even woken up, she quickly changed from her clubbing gear to her pj’s before hiding her purchase under her mattress until the morning. She knew her timing would have to be impeccable, the boys went for their showers at seven sharp, the same as the women, she would have a window of about two minutes before it was noted that she was not showering, she would use the excuse that she’d left her toiletries behind. She would plant the little package amongst the stash of girlie mags he kept in his bedside cabinet. Then all she had to do was alert her superiors without anyone knowing it was her.

  The next morning as Sian and Lucy headed to the shower, she told her she’d forgotten her bag, she hurried back retrieved it and then quickly made her way to Pete’s room. Once inside she quickly deposited the bag and ran to the shower.

  They got through the morning’s lessons, Pete was his usual boisterous self, he joked about Kelly not being able to cut it, that she was all blonde hair and big tits and would never have made it as a police officer anyway. During their lunch break Sian couldn’t wait to get to the phone box on the corner of the road outside the Hendon training centre. She ran all the way, she was fit and hardly noticed the exertion, the phone box had a couple of broken panes but the phone was intact. The interior stank of urine, she dug out a handful of coins and fed some into the slot. She dialled the number she knew by heart, and within two rings a polite female voice answered. “I’d like to report something please.” She said.

  “I’m sorry madam but this is just a training centre, if you’d like to report a crime you need to call your local police station or 999.”

  “I’d like to report one of your recruits, He deals in drugs. His name is Peter Donaldson.”

  “Can I ta…” Sian had replaced the handset before she could get another word out. Once again she ran back to the cafeteria and settled down to lunch of spaghetti with meatballs in a tomato sauce.

  It was during afternoon lessons that their head instructor entered the room and asked Pete to go with him. They were never told what happened, all they knew was that he never attended another class. Sian was satisfied, justice had been done, it was just a shame that Kelly had to quit.

  FOUR

  Monday morning and Pinky was hoping for a productive writing day, he was going to ignore the shit from all the inmates if he possibly could, though from experience he knew this was easier said than done, most of them he would quite happily ignore with the exception of Chef. He was one of those people that had a way about them which exuded charm and intrigue.

  At forty-five Chef was close in age to Pinky, that and they shared–shall we say–a penchant for certain edible delicacies. Chef was well known in certain circles for his culinary experiences, they ranged from meals made from endangered species, the starting price for such a meal depended on the rarity of the animal, but rumours were that ten thousand would be the cheapest. But Chef’s pièce de résistance was for the select few clients that had bottomless pits of wealth, for these special people once they had parted with a half million pounds sterling they were treated to the most beautifully cooked sixteen year old virgin, served ‘Chaud-Froid’. He would poach the girl whole before covering her in the white
chaud-froid sauce and then elaborately decorate her form with the finest truffles and other delicacies as his mood took him, she would then be presented as the centrepiece of the table. During his talks with Chef, Pinky had learned the nuances of cannibalism, the best methods of cooking for each part, realising where he had gone wrong with his own experience. Chef had advised him that his method of cooking the heart was more suited to say the liver, that the heart was a hard working muscle and as such required a long slow braise to break down the fibres. Pinky had to admit that he had found the pan fried heart very chewy, but eating the liver really wouldn’t have had the same symbolism for him–after all Amy Cooper hadn’t broken his liver, she’d pulverised his heart.

  At eight fifteen he was ready to get started, all his implements set out before him, no distractions, though he could hear the silent whimpering of Nursey which he could block out easily as he had no sympathy for her. His goal today was to finish chapter two and maybe start chapter three, he would see where the day took him. Re-reading what he had written on Saturday he set about putting pencil to paper.

  I followed the bus closely until we hit the dual carriageway, where I dropped back a few cars. The rain was beginning to fall so I had to put my sidelights on and wipers, by the time the bus turned off on the road leading up to the school the rain had increased in its intensity. The winding road was barely wide enough for the bus, as it passed the quaint little church on its right and snaked round the bend I took a chance and sped up so that I was less than six feet from its bumper. A part of me wanted her to turn around, but a bigger part of me hoped she wouldn’t.

  As her bus pulled into the school gates I gunned the engine and swerved around the rear of the bus, taking the car up through the gears, each one screaming with pain before I changed up to the next one. I drove like this until I reached the nearby woods before pulling into their car park and switching the engine off.

  I sat there for what must have been half an hour just retracing every second from when she had crossed the road in front of me to catch her bus. The way her hair had covered the back of the seat, the way she had turned her head to talk to her friend in the seat next to her, I just loved everything about her. Every second I thought about her, the harder I got, I checked around me in the car park and realised mine was the only car here.

  I got out of the car and went around to the boot, lifting the cover that covered the spare wheel I retrieved the magazine I had picked up on my way home from work yesterday and had not yet had a chance to look at. Each Thursday after I would take a detour home, to a small newsagents run by an old Asian man who must be nearly a hundred. He would sit on his stool behind the counter wearing the same beige cardigan and faded corduroy trousers he always wore. The cigarette sticking out of his moth always appeared to be the same length as though time was standing still in this one little segment of the world, I came here because he had the best selection of Adult magazines, the rack was to the rear of the shop so I could browse without too much bother from fellow patrons. Also the shop was far enough from the estate I lived in that I was unlikely to bump into someone I knew. Most weeks I would end up buying the same magazine–Fiesta, or occasionally Escort- but for some reason yesterday a new one caught my eye, it was called Club International and promised ‘Schoolgirl Special’. After a quick glance at the cover I decided to deviate from my usual and give this a chance, for one reason and one reason only, one of the models featured as part of the special bore a striking resemblance to Amy.

  Back in the warmth of my car I switched the engine back on and turned the heater to max, I’d got a bit wet retrieving the magazine, though had made sure to protect it by stuffing it up my t-shirt.

  I held the magazine in front of me, the ‘U’ of the word ‘Club’ obscured by the face of a pretty girl dressed in a pink school blouse opened though her hands covered her breasts, a striped blue and yellow tie and a short white skirt barely concealing her panties. While in the bottom right corner the headline ‘Schoolgirl Special’ under which, was a face remarkably similar to that of Amy.

  I was eager to get to the page where she was, but I wanted to draw out the moment so I started at the beginning, for the first time since I have been reading these magazines, which is not an inconsiderable time I found I had no interest in any of them. As I flicked from page to page, each girl seemed to blur into the next one, even the sight of their pussy on full show was proving inadequate to get me hard. I flicked through quicker eager now to find my one true love, then I hit the page which started the feature, the Schoolgirl Special, though to be fair it looked like it had been a long time since any of these girls were in school, they may be dressed in uniforms and have pigtails, but schoolgirls they weren’t. Then came the moment I had been longing for, her name in the magazine was Madison, she lived in Windsor and was eighteen years old. Granted she did look just young enough to be in school, and the image of her leaning over her desk with her skirt hiked up and knickers pulled to once side would normally be enough to get me off multiple times. She just wasn’t Amy.

  I threw the magazine on to the back seat in disgust before closing my eyes and reaching into my trousers, my memories of her would have to be enough. It wasn’t too long before the welcome sensation just before you come was upon me, it had taken minutes to reach the point that the magazine would have taken all day to achieve. What tipped me over was imagining her coming home from school, I was alone working on the kitchen, without a word she removed her knickers and bent over the newly installed central island and told me to take her any way I wanted.

  After cleaning myself up I went back to the magazine and read a few of the articles, I had plenty of time to kill before Amy finished school and I could follow her home. But I came to the conclusion that day that I would never buy another girly magazine, and would never visit my little Asian shop keeper again, all I needed was my memories of Amy. My mind was capable of making up numerous scenarios where we end up together.

  Lunchtime came and went without Pinky even realising, the first he knew about it was the tray of food placed just inside the door, long cold, though he doubted it had tasted much better even when it was lukewarm as dinner tended to be. He looked at the plate of food, on the main plate there were three piles, one a greyish mass of what he assumed was mashed potato, the second a stack of insipid looking vegetables, boiled so vigorously the colour practically gone, and finally what once belonged to a pig – a pork chop would be the correct culinary term, he wasn’t sure what he would call it.

  As he moved the plate in front of him, he had already stowed his valuable manuscript away while he are, a voice bellowed from across the room.

  “How was your lunch Pinky?” Chef asked.

  “Is that what it is? I’m just about to eat it, then I’ll let you know.”

  “It’ll be cold now, it’s nearly an hour since it arrived, were you working on that book of yours again?

  “Yeh, time got away from me Chef, I bet your food was better than this shite they serve up.”

  “I wish you could have come to one of my dinners, you would really have appreciated it, the finest food, the best wines and Cognac to die for. If I ever get my hands on that fucking accountant that grassed me up, he’ll be the centrepiece of my next soiree.”

  “I’m coming to that without a doubt, though you gotta get out of here first, and short of breaking out you ain’t going nowhere are you?” He heard Chef roar with laughter at his last comment. He started with his food, but after a couple of mouthfuls he pushed it to one side and once again retrieved his work, ready to start the next chapter.

  FIVE

  Saturday 26th June 1993

  Nine o’clock.and Adam rolled out of his single bed, the quilt lay at the base of the bed and barely covered the feet of the naked girl with her back to him. His mouth felt drier than the Sahara and his need to pee was growing by the second. He walked out of his bedroom and along the landing, his parents would both be at work so he saw no reason to put any clothes on. H
is years of visiting the gym five times a week had paid off, that and the regular steroid injections gave him the body of an Adonis. With his blue eyes and blonde hair he was the perfect Aryan specimen. He stood in the toilet and waited for the stream to begin, he’d noticed that lately his waterworks had been a bit unreliable, he put it down to the jabs he endured for his body. It started then stopped and then started again and went on for ages. The girl in his bed had a name but for the life of him he couldn’t remember what it was. Not that it mattered he wouldn’t be seeing her again.

  Back in his bedroom he sat on the edge of the bed and rolled a joint, he needed something to get going most mornings. The girl began to stir as he lit his spliff. She turned to face him, her young body like alabaster against her black hair. He’d always liked his girls young, she could be no more than sixteen. As he drew a hit she reached around his body and started stroking him. She carried on until he was hard and then with her petite frame and agile body she swung round until she was in his lap and she expertly guided him inside her body. Her breasts had barely formed but he still didn’t hesitate taking one of the nipples in his mouth. He let her work her magic to a certain point then he placed his hands under her bum and lifted her as he walked to the opposite wall still inside her. With her back pushed hard against the wood chip paper he thrust harder and faster until his body shook and within seconds he was done and he’d shrunk back to his meagre length – another side effect of the steroids. He left her leaning against the wall with no idea if she was satisfied or not. He looked at her, the absence of hair meant he could see as his seed slowly oozed from her and down her thigh.

  He pulled on a pair of jeans and went downstairs when he heard the letterbox bang and mail hit the wooden floor. His parents’ house was a three bedroom semi, the same one he was born in nineteen years ago. His mum and dad both worked at the same factory they’d been at since they left school. His mum was the accounts clerk and his dad was a tool maker, they were happy. They didn’t have a lot but for them all that mattered was their only son Adam, his well being and his happiness. Adam knew this and took advantage of the fact, hence why he drove a brand new Peugeot 205, and why they tolerated his obsession with sex and young teenage girls. Most parents would never allow their child the freedom that they allowed Adam. He held on to the white painted bannister as he made his way down the stairs, there must be fifteen coats of paint on it, he remembered when it was bare wood and as a kid he would mount it and slide to the bottom. A pile of envelopes sat at the base of the front door. He picked them up and rifled through them, most were addressed to his parents, but one caught his eye. A plain white envelope addressed to him but what caught his eye was the printed logo, a crudely drawn image consisting of three triangles, a circle and an ellipse to form an angel. Underneath this were the words ‘Angel Promotions’. He put the rest of the mail on the side table while he took his letter back upstairs. As he turned she was coming down, she was carrying her red stilettos and as she walked past him she held her hand up to her face mimicking a phone and said “Call me.” She carried on walking aware that she had never given nor would she ever give him her number. She accepted last night for what it was, a night of okay sex, but not one she had any desire to repeat. He was one of the poorest she’d had and at the tender age of just seventeen there had already been a couple of dozen. The way she was going she would be pregnant with her first child before her next birthday.