Pop Goes the Weasel

60

The caravan stood alone on the open wasteland. Framed by the gypsy fires that burned nearby, it looked almost beautiful. Inside it was less pleasant, mildewed and rotting, the detritus of drug use littering the floor. Still, it would do for tonight – a mattress was slung down on the floor, ready for action.

‘You a soldier then?’ she asked.

‘Was. Afghanistan.’

‘I love soldiers – you killed any ragheads?’

‘A few.’

‘My hero. I should give you one on the house.’

Simon Booker shrugged off the suggestion. He didn’t want her pity. Or her charity. That wasn’t why he was here. He pulled some notes from his wallet, laying them on the stained Formica breakfast bar. As he did so, he noticed his wedding ring and began to tug at it.

‘Don’t worry about that, love. I won’t tell if you don’t. It’s thirty for oral, fifty for straight, hundred for anything else. And I’m going to need you to use a condom, love. Don’t want any of the diseases you picked up from those foreign whores, do I?’

Simon Booker nodded and turned, bending down to retrieve his condoms from his bag. He couldn’t find them at first and had to rootle around, before eventually locating them. As he stood up, he was surprised to see Angel standing by the door.

‘You stay the fuck away from me!’ she spat at him.

‘What? I was just getting the -’

‘What’s the iron bar for?’

Shit. She’d obviously spotted it as he’d rooted through his holdall.

‘It’s nothing. Just for protection. But I’ll put it outside if you like.’

He moved towards it.

‘Don’t you dare touch it. If you do, I’ll shout. I’ve got mates over there. People who look out for me. Do you know what gypsies do to the likes of you?’

‘All right. Keep your hair on.’

Simon was irritated now. He wanted to have sex not a full-blown slanging match.

‘You put it outside then. I don’t want any trouble,’ he said.

She looked scared but slowly edged her way to the bag, keeping an eye on him the whole time. Picking up the bag, she lobbed it outside – it landed with a dull thud. She breathed out, composing herself.

‘Right then, shall we start again?’ she said, her smile wide but forced.

‘Sure.’

‘Come and give me a kiss then. And once I’ve got to know you better I’ll put your big dick in my mouth.’

That was more like it. Simon crossed the floor. Hesitantly at first, he put his hands on her waist. She responded by lacing her arms round his neck and pulling his mouth towards hers.

‘Let’s get this started, shall we?’

As Simon Booker closed his eyes, Angel brought her knee sharply up into his groin. As Simon froze, stunned, she did it again and again. Crumpling to the floor, he gasped for breath. He wanted to puke. Oh God, the pain was horrible.

He looked up to find Angel standing over him. The smile was gone now and in her hand she held the iron bar from his bag. Without warning, she brought it crashing down on his head. Once, twice, three times just to make sure. Then she paused, crossing the floor to shut the caravan door. Locking it from the inside, she paused to catch her breath. Staring down at her victim, she could feel her excitement rising.

It was time for the fun to begin.