Chapter 12

Fred Bottomley and Mr Hanspacker were ensconced in Hanspacker's favourite bar. He was due to fly home soon and was bidding the place a sad farewell; now that he was about to leave England for ever, he realised that it was not such a bad place at all. It sure as hell beat Switzerland! He had never been so mid-crushingly bored in all his days, than when living there!

"So what have you to tell me?" asked Fred.

"You remember I saw this bare ass naked chick running round the wall, the time I stayed with you and your dear wife? Well I sure recognised her at the time but, chose to keep my trap shut for the time being. Since then I have seen something really incredible and I think you ought to know!"

"You have?"

"Yeah. I knew at the time she was our mutual friend, Professor Granville's wife. No mistaking that gorgeous honey, dressed or undressed! But that's only the half of it. Before I had to skip the country last Christmas I looked up Granville in "Who's Who" Some kind of impulse, I guess. But when I saw the entry... ! Well, guess what I found?"

"I give up! I never did much care for riddles and guessing games! What did you find?"

"Under the heading "Granville, Professor James E" it said "see Fortescue, Earl of"

"Fuck me!" ejaculated the normally well spoken Fred. "The Girl is the wife of that nice Professor who glared at me as if I was something the cat had dragged in! And the Prof is a bloody Earl! You did say he was some kind of egghead, when we first discussed buying the castle. I suppose he knew from some local contact of his, that I had just given that lovely wife of his a frightful belting on that sweet little bum of hers! No wonder he was none too chummy! I'm lucky he didn't knock me out, which he certainly could - a big guy that that!"

He explained to the incredulous Hanspacker how his wife had enslaved a filthy beggar girl almost exactly a year ago and subjected her to more and more vile torments with every passing day, delighting in constructing an ever more elaborate regime of pain and humiliation... His distaste for all this beastliness together with his own shameful enforced part in it was why he hardly ever saw his wife any longer nor visited that castle unless it was absolutely necessary.

"What do you mean to do about this?" asked Hanspacker. " I feel your wife might be in some kind of danger. My guess is that the young woman has insinuated her way into the place for some reason connected with getting her husband's family home back."

"I intend to do sweet bugger all, old sport. The wife has made her own bed. Let her lie in it! The Professor Earl is more than welcome to have the place back. Good luck to him and that lovely wife of his. If you knew the half of what that brave girl has put herself through, you'd agree she has earned it!"

And then he thought fondly of the well stacked and lovely Amy, who would never want to abuse and torture a fellow mortal - sweet girl! He looked at his watch; soon he would be in her arms again!

Miss Parradine was working through the second page, transcribing it line by line and growing more and more excited. This was weirder than the first page!

'When the year and day is passed away

The Virgin Wife shall have her way

And seven times her naked form

Shall run around the Castle Wall.

At the stroke of Midnight, that witching hour,

The run shall be and the exile o'er!"

Miss Parradine looked at her watch. Eight PM. Plenty of time for Dorothy to throw the Girl out of the Castle and render her year's exertions fruitless. Not that she believed any of this stuff and nonsense! She was an educated woman, not a superstitious peasant, daily looking up her horoscope in some trashy tabloid rag!

She got to her feet and pulled at the door. It was stuck fast! Try as she would, it was quite beyond her power to move it - not even by the merest fraction of a millimetre! This was the door that had been declared without fault and whose hinges were smooth and clear of obstruction. But she was stuck fast in this horrible dusty vault. It was then that Miss Parradine realised that she was helpless to alter the course of events. Soon the Girl would be the mistress of Fortescue Castle and she, Amelia Parradine and all the others who had connived at the daily torture of Cynthia, the lovely young Countess of Fortescue would be disgraced, or worse. She already felt the policeman's hand on her shoulder and saw the Judge, stern and bewigged in his scarlet robe, passing sentence on them all, with Dorothy being put away for life!

Cynthia was still a little out of breath as she reached her darling husband's shuttered cottage. She had indeed run seven time around the walls and as she had finished, gasping because of her continuing weakness after the whipping the other day, the ghost of the old and long-dead Earl had appeared to her again. Words had been whispered into her ears and then the old reprobate had disappeared, with one final job to do - terrorising the wretched Dorothy Bottomley and the other two servants - before going to his rest at last.

She scrabbled in the ground for a few minutes and found what she was looking for, in the shape of a leather pouch, inside which was the key to the cottage.

Still naked, she let herself in and went upstairs. Soon she was luxuriating in the blessed goodness of her first hot bath in many a long month. The wound to her back was healing well now and did not sting as she had feared it might. Finally she got out and looked at her back properly for the first time in a year and more.

"Not too bad! I doubt that scar will ever properly fade, but that's OK! It's a mark to bear with pride for the rest of my life!"

When the Whip had struck her, the lights had gone out and the ground had trembled horribly. The others had fled from the cellar and Cynthia found that the shackles had been loosened in some mysterious manner. Bleeding from the terrible effects of the one and only lash that she was ever to receive from the dreaded Whip, she had staggered back to her room. The others were still shell-shocked on the last day of Cynthia's servitude and the threat of the Whip had vanished for ever.

The bath over, Cynthia emerged from the bathroom clad in her favourite fluffy pink bath-robe, the first clothes she had one for over a year. It was still night-time and she paced around the house for a while and then got into bed, warm and comfortable for a change and slept. She awoke at an hour or so after dawn and slipped out of bed and into a lovely hot shower! No more Spartan cold showers for her - ever!

Her husband should be on his way by now, as anxious as she to be re-united. Cynthia decided not to get dressed just yet, although she had already decided on what she would wear today, the first day of her freedom and future as the soon-to-be new Mistress of Fortescue Castle. Let the Professor be greeted by the sight of a naked Cynthia, when he finally turned up. What was keeping him?

She heard footsteps coming up the path. Cynthia in her eagerness, sped downstairs at the speed of light and pulled open the door, running down the path to meet the owner of those footsteps. In a second, her husband was clasping her in his arms, sobbing his relief and joy at being reunited with her after such a long time apart.

Finally he pushed her away to be at arms length. He took a long look at her.

"You look remarkably well considering those terrible reports I was getting from young Reg, (the grocer's boy)! When I heard about your time clearing snow, I was on the verge of storming up to the Castle and dragging you away before you came to fatal harm. I admit I'd deeply like my family home back, but not at the price of your precious life! But you were always so sure of yourself and what you were determined to do. So I calmed down and let it ride. I had faith in you!"