Chapter 12

Rosevale-on-sea was pleasant small English coastal town on the Essex coast. A place for pensioners to retire to and holidaymakers to flock to, it had, in recent years, obtained a darker reputation for suicides. It’s cliffs and beaches were renowned but since the 1990s there had been six reported suicides there; people from further afield in England had come to end their lives in the most beautiful scenery, likely looking out to sea and the horizon while ending their desperate lives.

It was just next to the larger town of Mallowby, also on the coast, which had a livelier nightlife and functional economy and where most of the residents in Rosevale-on-sea actually worked. Connected along the coast by train they were just three miles from each other. Both were on the same trainline from London.

At the Red Lion pub in Rosevale-on-sea village centre, Edward Pembroke was sitting at the bar having an early Saturday afternoon pint and chatting with the barman. “It’s a pity we don’t get more trade here, but the locals don’t like the tourists, it’s just second homes and that, so there’s not much to do for the young here. But it’s the safest place in England, barely any crime here, nobody bothers locking their doors!”

“None of that CCTV then? First sign of a fascist state I reckon!” chimed back Pembroke.

“Nah, out of the station, there’s none of it. We look after our own, we don’t need the government snooping on us!”

Pembroke found the village to be lovely, like a 1930s England frozen in time. He walked around from the station and through it, it was quite small, from the station, you could walk for a few minutes and then be in open fields. About half a mile outside the village, was a spa complex-cum-rehab clinic, which by all accounts was not doing so well. Four stories high and visible across the fields as soon as you walked out of the village centre, it looked busy, with plenty of cars in the car park, but its owner was apparently trying to sell up. The reputation for suicides had not gone down well among the potential clientele.

Pembroke enjoyed the exercise and the sea air, as he walked inland toward the complex and back, to his car parked near the station. He then drove around, and noticed how few cars there were, and parked in a lane off the main road, and had his lunch there, sitting behind the wheel as he noticed the peace and tranquillity of the fields, the silence, and the total privacy.

At the end of the evening, he had to drive back to his home in Norfolk. It took him just an hour and a half, he noted. He then went back to attending his mother, she could not be left alone for long.

On the same Saturday, Sophie was playing hockey again. She had to borrow a hockey uniform from the school as she had lost her own. Ms Meekers, her coach, had insisted on it and Sophie blushed when she saw the size of it. Her mother had told her it was her own fault for losing it and wouldn’t buy her another, especially if the school could lend her one until the end of the season.

Sophie blanched when she tried it on. The skirt barely covered her shorts, which were themselves underwear so revealing that when she now played everyone could clearly see her butt cheeks hanging out of her ass. The top was so short that her midriff was permanently on display. She had pleaded with Ms Meekers to be placed on the bench or to not play until she would buy her own. Ms Meekers was a lesbian, who had long been infatuated with the cute young redhead, and she secretly looked forward to seeing Sophie play while revealing herself as if she was wearing nothing but knickers.

Sophie played even worse than usual, and was taken off at half time. Ms Meekers insisted she remained in her uniform, seated next to her on the bench. After the match, Ms Meekers called her into her room aside from the changing rooms. “I need the uniform back now” she barked sharply at her.

“But...” Sophie blushed “I will get changed then give it back to you”. Ms Meekers shook her head. “No, you can do that in here, come on, I need it asap, and I cannot trust you to not lost it again, come on, get it off!”

Embarrassed and baffled, Sophie took her top and skirt off, as well as the socks, and handed them to Ms Meekers. Ms Meekers thanked her, and then gave her an admonishment on her performance on the pitch, all while the poor girl was in her sports pants and bra, feeling fully exposed. Finally allowed to go, she went back to the changing rooms. All the other girls were nearly changed by now, and sniggered at the near naked girl coming in late. Sophie’s revealing kit had been the talk of the changing room before she came in.

Ms Meekers came in and shouted: “All right girls has everyone had their shower?” She was greed with a chorus of “yes Miss!” She then looked at Sophie. “Sophie Yildiz, you haven’t, you’re barely out of your clothes, come on, hop in to the shower, we have the school reputation to care for we do not want our girls stinking of sweat outside do we?”

The other girls laughed. Most had dodged the showers, they hated being naked in front of the others and wanted to get out of the changing room as quickly as possible after matches. Sophie went red, she took her towel and went to the shower rooms by herself.

She started the shower up, and turned it on, now naked. She heard the voice of Ms Meekers at the door. “Now Sophie, I hope you will take my advice on board, we need a better team next year and I want you to be part of it!”

Sophie had her back turned to her, and was pretending to listen attentively. She heard the sounds of the other girls walking out and was dreading being the last one with Ms Meekers in the changing rooms. She was getting more and more freaked out, and did not want to turn around and reveal her front to her sports teacher, not least because she was embarrassed she would see her shaved pussy.

Ms Meeker was entranced by the young pale body under the water, and wanted so much to touch it. Seeing her tight body in her underwear had earlier driven her half crazy but now she was coming to her senses and knew that her professional job was on the line.

“Ok Sophie, come on, I have to lock up!” She watched as Sophie quickly walked, naked, to the rack to get her towel and back in to the changing room. She half smiled as she realised the girl had shaved her pussy. “Little minx” she thought to herself.

Pembroke set about buying some new fake number plates, which were still surprisingly easy to obtain. One thing that proved to be beyond him, however, was hacking into Liverpool Street Station CCTV cameras, in London. Oh well, he thought, he would just adapt. He had another day off soon, and in the morning took the early train down to London.

His first stop, was not Liverpool Street. He was instead able to get to Newham, and at 8am, was in a morning café near the tower block where Sophie lived. He could not be sure he would ever have her, and just wanted to be near her. He paid for his coffee in advance, and nearly jumped out of his seat when he saw the red headed girl walking out of the building exit, and followed her at a distance. He had brought his discreet camera, concealed in a bag he held, so that it pointed at her. She seemed preoccupied, almost talking to herself, and did not notice the strange man walking twenty metres behind her, filming her. She was in her blue school uniform, with ankle high dark blue socks, blue skirt, blue blazer. She got to a bus stop, and Pembroke stood near her, recording. She was not paying attention, and there were many people at the bus stop. He crept up behind her, and placed his bag just under her skirt, expertly making sure he would have a good view up her skirt. The bus came and he followed her up the steps, the bag under her keeping the sweet view of her undercarriage as they both got on. He stood apart from her on the packed bus, and stared at her longingly behind dark glasses. He watched her get off at the school and once again promised himself to do everything in his power to have her.

After this he made his way down to Liverpool Street Station. There was a section of locker rooms, and he queried if there was any record of a theft down here, someone had stolen a phone from him down this way. “Sorry, no CCTV footage down here, Im afraid” said the attendant. Pembroke then spent some time getting a locker, opening it and checking the insides. He then waited and got on a train to Rosevale-OnSea and admired the coast. After a further walk around, he got to the spa then walked back to the station. The exercise was doing him good. Then he got the train back to Liverpool Street, and checked the lockers and walked all around the station he already knew so well.

He took a further journey to Newham. He followed the transport links to Sophie’s school and checked that it was still just before school finishing time. He was able to spot Sophie coming out - how easy was it to track red hair among a sea of black and brown girls in east London! He got to her bus stop and got to the same routine. Same bus, and keeping an eye on her through the bus journey. He loved the fact he was just a few metres from his prey. He could almost smell her again, this vision of red hair, and slim loveliness in front of him.

She got off and he followed her discreetly to her block. He had enough fun for the day, and took a train back home to look after his mother. He was so close, this little girl was his destiny, he could feel it, the thing that would help him through his remaining twenty years with her sexiness and cuteness.

Pembroke spent that night in his dungeon at his work station. He regretted the fact he would have to move this upstairs once it was occupied by his prey. He was currently working on a picture frame designed to hold a large printout that he planned to surreptiously get from the school printers tomorrow. Idly, he sent a message as Luke to Sophie asking her what phone she had, praying that it was android. Luke was curious about western tech and sent laughing emojis back to Sophie’s response, at how backward the UK must be. Pembroke made a note of this and the type of software he could use to hack into her phone.

Upstairs, he fed his mother and got her to bed. She barely recognised him at all, and he was struck at how similar it would be to how he would have to treat his prisoner and his mother. Looking after her, scolding her, keeping her indoors. Of course, his mother was physically incapable of resisting him. He shuddered at the thought of him having to do to his mother, the things he planned for Sophie to do with him. The revulsion swept over him and almost made him throw up; this was how Sophie was going to feel every day. It made him momentarily sympathise with her, or whomever ended up in his dungeon. He told himself he would try and keep himself in shape, and clean. But it would be Sophie’s cross to bear, she was just going to have to deal with it.