THE COMPLETE TRILOGY, COMPENDIUM OF THE HEART: An epic love story

by RJ Hunter

  Frank began to run his fingers through her tousled hair, and moved his face closer to hers. Kissing her lightly on the cheek, he ran his arm beneath her and reached across to grasp her shoulder. He then kissed her passionately on the lips. Initially, there was no response, but Frank didn't mind this, and even expected it.

  After a few moments, Sally opened her eyes wide, and stared at him blankly. She pulled away from him, gasping for breath. Frank however, was back kissing her almost immediately, only this time, Sally had reached up to put her arms around him, and returned his kiss with equal passion. This was all Frank needed, it was the green light he'd been waiting for.

  Once more, he scooped her up in his arms, and leaving the record to play itself out, carried her upstairs and into her bedroom.

  He staggered a little as he banged her head against the wall, while attempting to lay her limp body on the bed. Sally groaned, but offered no resistance as he pulled off her one remaining shoe, and flipped her over onto her stomach. He then turned his attention to the zip at the back of her dress.

  His fingers worked clumsily, but gradually he pealed the garment away. He pulled each of her arms out of the sleeves, and slowly eased the dress down over her tummy, and along past her hips and thighs. Sally only had her black knickers left to cover her modesty, but these too were soon yanked off, to leave her naked and at his mercy. He belched loudly, and threw her clothes into the corner of the room. Leering at her nude body, he started to remove his own clothes, slowly at first, then quicker, as his breathing became heavier. When he was ready, he crept onto the bed, inching closer and closer, never taking his eyes off her.

  He ran his hands down the length of her body. There was no response, so he turned her over, and gazed at her full breasts, before mauling them and running his tongue hungrily across her nipples.

  He then pushed his hand down, and placed it roughly between her legs. She had a beautiful, dark blonde, silky mound, trimmed to a neat triangle. With a piston-like motion, he began to work his fingers inside her. She was damp, but not damp enough, which annoyed him. But he persisted until he managed to get all four fingers deep within her. She stirred and groaned a few times, but didn't make things easy for him. He continued for a little longer, only stopping when she finally clamped her legs firmly shut.

  "No, please, not now, I can't..." She muttered sleepily, before rolling onto her side.

  Frank reared up on his knees, his eyes blazing with fury, as he glared down at the sleeping woman lying before him.

  "I'll teach you to go to sleep on me, you fucking bitch!" He cursed under his breath. He then pulled her back over onto her front, forcing her legs apart with his knees. He began to position himself, but as he came down to penetrate her, he felt himself shrinking. He swore, and punched the pillow violently. As with most men, this had happened before, and always after heavy drinking. He wiped beads of sweat from his brow, and lay down beside her. He would rest for a few minutes, he thought and then try again. The drink however, had taken its toll on Frank that night, for as soon as he closed his eyes, he was asleep and snoring loud enough to wake the dead.

  Nick sat back on the chair and glanced around Laura's room. He was a little lost for words and was starting to feel somewhat awkward.

  "I think you've done an amazing job, Laura," he said finally. "Your room has a really good feel to it."

  "Well, it's just a home from home really, but I do try to make it cosy." She smiled back.

  He finished his drink and sat forward on the edge of his seat.

  "Nice wine, anymore left?"

  "Sorry, that's it, I'm afraid. I've got a bottle of red, if you think you can manage it?"

  "No, that's okay," he replied, looking anxiously at his watch. "It's getting late, perhaps I ought to go."

  For a moment, he thought he detected a hint of disappointment in Laura's face, as she put her glass down and turned to look up at him.

  "You don't have to rush off, Nick. I don't bite!" She suddenly heard herself blurt out.

  "But don't you have to work tomorrow?"

  "Well, yes I do, but that's not until the afternoon." She replied hesitantly, before adding; "You can always sleep on the floor if you want, I don't mind."

  Laura produced a sleeping bag from under her bed, and gave him a pillow. She then draped a silk scarf over the bedside lamp, giving the room a dim, sensual glow. Again there was a hint of hesitancy in the air, until Nick finally took the initiative and stripped down to his boxer shorts, before climbing into the hard, chilly makeshift bed.

  Laura stood in the centre of the room with her back towards him, and began to unbutton her denim shirt. This, she hung over the chair, before undoing her jeans. He watched intently as she struggled to wriggle free of them, before sliding them down to her ankles and casually kicking them off.

  Nick felt himself grow hard, as his eyes followed her, tip-toeing back over towards the chair. As she lent over, his eyes darted to her breasts. They dangled enticingly, looking as if they were about to burst out of the low-cut, black bra that contained them. He drooled at the contours of her body, flicking his eyes down past her narrow waist. His gaze settled on her curvaceous bottom, before inching its way along to her firm thighs, and finally down to her exquisite long legs. He wondered how he would get through the night with her sleeping up on the bed alongside him.

  With the lamp still switched on, Laura slid into bed.

  "Are you still awake?"

  "Yes," he replied, after a pause.

  "Well, good night, Nick, and thanks again for such a wonderful evening."

  "I'm glad you enjoyed it. Good night, Laura."

  They both lay on their backs, staring at the ceiling, and listening to the usual laughing and door-banging that went on late into the night in establishments like these. They remained like this for several minutes, each one knowing that the other was still awake. It was Nick who spoke first.

  "Laura, are you still awake?"

  "Yes, I can't seem to sleep," came her hushed reply.

  "It's cold down here."

  There was a delay in her answer, which seemed to Nick like an eternity. Even the noise from the corridors had stopped as if in anticipation of what Laura was about to say. Her throat felt ticklish, and her heart raced, as she turned her head to where Nick was laying.

  "You had better get in with me then, it'll be warmer." She whispered gently

  .

  24. GREENFIELDS

  Penny stopped and hesitated for a few moments in front of the house. It was the sight of Frank's car in the drive, and the still-drawn curtains that had set alarm bells ringing in her head.

  Last night's party had been rubbish. It had been ruined by a gang of youths who'd gate-crashed. Because of this, Penny has left earlier than expected, but she had enjoyed staying over at her friend's house, so the evening wasn't entirely a disaster. Penny looked at the positive side of the evening. At least nothing had gone wrong, and her mother would have no reason not to allow her to stay over at a friend's in the future.

  She let herself in quietly, but was surprised that Pepys didn't make his usual fuss whenever someone came home. Immediately, her nostrils were assaulted by the smell of stale nicotine, and last night's curry. Going into the kitchen to make a drink, she saw the remnants of the meal her mother had tried so hard to cook. Glancing over to the table, she saw a couple of empty wine bottles, a dirty-looking ashtray, laden with cigar butts. A champagne bottle was laying inelegantly on the floor, amid the crumbs of a broken poppadom. Down where Pepys's food and water bowls were kept she noticed one of her mother's best china plates. Left-over curry had dripped over the side, making an ugly, brown stain on the expensive tiled floor. Obviously, Pepys hadn't been too impressed with the offerings given him.

  The annoying, repetitious sound of a record stuck on a turntable distracted her, and prompted her to go to its aid. The lounge was in a similar condition. Fast food containers and grains of pilar rice littered the once-proud mahogany coffee tabl
e, and a cigar had burnt itself out on the mantelpiece. Picking up one of her mother's shoes, Penny began to make her way upstairs, with Pepys following close behind.

  The landing creaked out a warning as she reached Sally's closed door. There was snoring, but it wasn't her mother's. Penny tapped lightly at the door, while Pepys rose up on his hind legs and waited expectantly. There was no reply, so Penny opened the door and followed the little dog inside. She smelt the familiar, vile aftershave lotion, and thought for a moment she preferred the smell of stale curry.

  It wasn't like her mother to sleep in for this long. Through the semi-darkness, Penny made out two shapes in the bed. Sally was in a foetal position, with her back towards the huge figure of a man, who she assumed was the owner of the car outside.

  "Mum, Mum, wake up! Can you hear me?"

  Sally could only groan and bury her head back in the pillow. Frank, however, sat up and stared straight at Penny, as if defying her to shout again. The young girl ran around the bed to her mother's side and began to shake her violently.

  "Mum, Mum, please wake up," pleaded Penny, becoming anxious.

  Eventually, Sally forced her eyes open, and eased herself up. Realising she was naked, she grabbed the sheet and hoisted it up to cover herself.

  "Please, Penny - there's no need to shout like that, I've got such a headache."

  "I'm not surprised!" Screamed Penny, hysterically. "How could you do it, and in the same bed you shared with Dad?"

  "Stop, please Penny - it's not what you think." Sally froze as she realised what she had just said, and turned horrified to look at Frank. Confused, she searched his eyes for answers, but found none. He smiled, and placed his arm protectively around her shoulders, before turning his attention back to Penny.

  "Now you listen here young lady, where I come from behaviour like that gets a hard slap across the bottom." If Frank hadn't looked so menacing, Penny would have laughed at his words, thinking them to be a joke. "If I were you, I would apologise to your mother right now," he added, just as forcibly.

  "I'll never speak to you again!" She screamed at her mother. "In fact, I never want to see you again either! I'm leaving!"

  "Penny, wait, please don't go," begged Sally, in a concerned tone.

  "Leave her, let her go and cool off for a while, she'll be okay." Added Frank, casually.

  They heard crashing and banging from Penny's room, as she gave full vent to her anger. She emerged a few minutes later clutching a hold-all, and charged downstairs.

  A bhagee thumped against Sally's bedroom door, splattering grease and slivers of onion against the pristine paintwork.

  "Another thing!" Cursed Penny, fleeing from fear of retaliation, "Pepys doesn't like curry!"

  "I'd better go after her," said Sally, leaping unglamorously from the bed, and pulling on her dressing gown.

  "No, let me. It's just a teenage tantrum. I'll talk to her, I've got kids of my own remember. I know how to handle them." With that, Frank began to pull his clothes on, albeit in no particular hurry, and followed Sally downstairs. As he went to go past her, he noticed tears welling up in her eyes. He stopped and held her.

  "Listen, nothing happened. We both had a bit too much to drink. We fooled around a little, but that was all."

  She looked up at him, searching his face for any signs of doubt.

  "Are you sure Frank? It's just that I can't seem to remember much about last night."

  He kissed her on the forehead.

  "Sally, please, what on earth must you think of me? I would never take advantage of a woman after she'd had too much to drink. Why, the very thought - it's despicable."

  "I'm sorry, Frank. What an awful thing of me to suggest."

  He smiled and gently squeezed her hand, before stepping out into the drizzle to find Penny.

  He didn't have to search far. Just as Frank suspected, she was sitting up in the tree-house, feeling very sorry for herself.

  As he pushed his large frame through the small door, Penny became quite disturbed by his presence, and shuffled further into the corner.

  Frank was used to people fearing him, and he would often utilise this in order to gain a psychological hold over them. It worked well, both in his private life and in business, so there was no reason why he couldn't manipulate a fifteen-year old girl

  "Penny, listen, I know you're very upset at the moment, and the last thing you want is to talk to me."

  There was no reply, so Frank moved closer, causing Penny to cringe and draw in her knees tightly.

  "That's okay, Penny, if you don't want to speak, I understand. I wont come any closer, I promise."

  Still no reply.

  "Listen, Penny, I'm not your enemy. I just want to be your friend."

  He moved even closer, making Penny respond like a trapped animal, and squeeze herself further into the corner.

  "Your mother tells me you want to become a vet?"

  Silence.

  "I like animals too. In fact, I've got two dogs at home. Their names are Conan and Thor, and they're pit bull terriers. As long as they are handled right, they can be very affectionate. You'll have to meet them soon."

  Penny continued to ignore him and began to sob.

  "I don't know, you girls - always crying aren't you? Hey, I'm only joking! It's good to cry sometimes. When I was a child I did my fair share of crying. You see, I just wanted to be loved." She still wouldn't respond, but at least the sobbing had now stopped. He glanced at his watch, before continuing. "I had nobody who really loved me. Except for Treacle that is. He was my teddy bear. I expect you've got a special teddy too, one that you love more than the others?"

  Silence.

  "You see, just like you, I was the youngest in my family. I was never listened to, always sent to bed early, always getting my brother's cast-offs. I was hated by my father and by my brother Giles. My father wanted me to be just like Giles, a perfect little gentleman, someone he could be proud of. But, I was a disappointment and he resented it and would ridicule and beat me for the slightest of reasons. The more I tried to be like Giles, the more I seemed to antagonise my father.

  I remember one Sunday when we were having roast chicken for lunch. Our Sunday lunches were always detestable affairs, and as usual, I was the one being picked upon. When I was eventually dismissed from the table and sent to my room, I cried on my bed for ages, I wanted Treacle, but I couldn't find him. He always sat on my bed, that's where he lived. Losing him made me even more upset, and I cried harder. Then, a bit later on, Giles came into my room, he was holding Treacle. He called me a cry baby and hit me hard, before handing Treacle back. He said Treacle hated me, and was dying because I was such a horrible little boy.

  In fact, that's exactly what did happen. After a day or so, Treacle really began to smell horrid, and his fur went all damp and putrid. My mother had to throw him away in the end because he stank the whole house out. Then, I found out what Giles had done to him. I was heart-broken and wouldn't eat for days."

  Frank paused for a while, and fiddled with his fingers.

  "Can you guess what he did, Penny?"

  She tried to retain her indifference, but curiosity was getting the better of her. She chanced a half-glance at Frank.

  "What did he do?" Was her barely audible whisper, as she darted her eyes away from him again.

  "Giles had taken Treacle, and had slit his back open," continued Frank, also whispering. "He then took some of his stuffing out, and replaced it with the giblets from the chicken, and sewed him back up again."

  Penny gulped, as she tried to imagine such a revolting scenario, and it was then that she thought she heard Frank sobbing. It was very stifled and not really much more than sniffing, but she was convinced he was actually crying.

  "Yuk, that's horrible!" She said.

  "It's okay, it was all a long time ago." He replied, wiping his eyes.

  "It's got nothing to do with what's happened!" Called out Penny, angrily.

  "That's where you're wrong.
People who we love are often the first to hurt us. You mustn't blame your mother, think of all the good things she's done."

  "Please go away."

  "Okay, Penny, I'll go. I wanted to be your friend. Perhaps, that might still happen. You see, I'm planning on seeing a lot more of your mother, and you, of course."

  "We don't want you!"

  Frank reached around to his back pocket and pulled out a thick, leather wallet.

  "Listen, Penny, I want you to take this money and go and buy your mother a present - not chocolates though, I don't want her getting fat. Perhaps, some nice perfume, or earrings, you must know the things she likes?"

  He then put a wad of assorted notes on the floor next to her, and began to climb down from the tree-house.

  Penny couldn't resist glancing at the money, she had never seen so much before, and hated herself for being tempted.

  "I don't want your money. Take it away!"

  Frank's head suddenly re-appeared through the door.

  "Look, Penny, we will be friends. This is what friends do, they share things and make each other happy. You can always buy something for yourself with whatever's left over."

  "So, that's what you do is it, buy people's friendship?"

  "Never look a gift horse in the mouth, Penny. You sound like a spoilt brat, and it doesn't suit a pretty little thing like you." He muttered bitterly, as the situation began to bore him.

  "Perhaps, I am!"

  "Goodbye Penny. I expect you to come back inside soon." With that, he finally climbed down, then, as he started to walk back to the house, he turned and looked back towards the tree-house. "Don't forget to apologise to your mother, it's even more important than the present."

  Penny heard his loud voice, but paid no attention to it, she was far too busy counting the money.

  As Frank strode back into the kitchen, Sally handed him a cup of freshly-brewed coffee.

  "Perhaps, I should go out there and speak to her?" She asked anxiously.

  "No, I would just leave her alone right now. She'll soon come back inside, you mark my words."