Chapter 21: The Worst 24 Hours

Part I: Morning

Abba

I was reminded to use that 'sleeping pill' another time!

It was 8:40 when I slipped back into bed, not daring to awaken Sarita. Even after some of the violence and scares that we had previously experienced, I dreaded today more than any other. And in some ways my forebodings held true.

I knew that my restlessness would disturb Sarita. She had a heavy day ahead of her and the more sleep she had the better. For the second time, I eased out of the bed. Sunrise was slow it was still pretty murky before nine o'clock. The chink in the curtains enabled more details of the master bedroom to be seen. It had once belonged to Petra and Peter's parents. But that was not what took my attention. I admired the beautifully relaxed face of my coloured Sarita, never having seen her look so gorgeous. I wanted to kiss her but to do anything to disturb the loveliness of her equipoise would be criminal.

Flouting the temptation, I threw a towel around my waist and padded down to have a look at the other occupants of Petetra.

Sandra was awake and grinned as I poked my head inside. I tried to see what was different about her and realised she'd washed off that awful make up. "You look good," I smiled. I restrained myself from saying anything else, not wanting to rub it in.

Crawling through the hatch to the next vessel, I staggered around for a kettle and drew on the tracksuit that had miraculously appeared on top of the bag of my clothing. When I saw Peter, I stopped to see how his bulky hand was. He was a bit restless but still dozing. I'd been assured that he would probably need a painkiller when he awoke but we had an agreement to monitor his doses very carefully and only Sarita was giving out the medicine or delegating that task, one pill at a time. I left him asleep and pottered around more quietly.

I dropped into the master bedroom and sat by Victoria's bed. I felt for her so much. There is something good and rewarding about looking at people asleep and undisturbed. Over the far side of the bed was Kari, fast sleep too. Suddenly, Victoria said, "Mummy says she's going to sort me out again, will it hurt?" She had opened her eyes and readopted her babyish tone of voice. She needed a comforting arm.

I hugged her, "Victoria, it will hurt but it has to be done or you will have lots of problems or infections that could even kill you. They would hurt even more."

I empathised with her but was careful not to reveal my anxiety. I took my responsibility seriously enough to exude a confidence I didn't feel.

Suddenly, I realised that she had referred to Sarita as her mummy. And this time there was no teasing in her eyes. I guess that was some form of regression to need some additional comfort. There was another thing; she was the junior school* kid she had been portraying when I first saw her. I could now identify how upset she was feeling by how childishly she spoke to me. Her speech reflected that her moods were up and down erratically. At this moment, I still thought of her as a little child and the teaser with a wicked sense of humour was nowhere to be seen. Oh please come back. It staggered me that she had ever had the confidence to laugh and joke.

She wasn't funning* now, "Please, see it doesn't hurt?"

"Victoria, I'm ever so sorry. I would take the pain from you if I could. I'd have it myself if that were possible but we both know it's going to hurt. Sarita says she's got better medicines this time."

"I want to eat proper food. But she won't let me. Will you?"

"As soon as it is safe to do so, I'll try to make something you particularly like. But we'll not talk about it now because it'll just make hungrier."

"Sarita said that if she doesn't do what she is doing today, I won't be able to get married. She means I won't be able to have sex or babies, doesn't she?"

How do you respond to a statement like that by to a girl whose only experience with sex is a violent rape?

Did I say I'd been dreading this day? It was getting worse by the minute, 'worser and worser' as Gramm used to say.

I was saved from the difficult question when Sarita herself came in, sporting an open dressing gown. Where had that come from? And she was displaying the most diaphanous of short nightdresses that I'd ever seen. I don't think she had been wearing that the night before. In fact, I know she hadn't. I had to avert my eyes, the view was so distracting.

"Did sex rock your boat last night?" Kari raised her head off the pillow, smiling. "This one was rocking quite a lot, wasn't it, Vicky?"

"Victoria," the youngster corrected haughtily.

I liked the return to her renewed confidence. That was good.

My concern for Victoria's state of mind was distracted by Kari's emergence as she heaved herself onto one elbow. I half expected to identify some jealousy of Sarita and I but all I saw was a sort of maternal attitude that one might portray towards a young pair of loved children doing something a little bit naughty.

Victoria twisted around to grin at her, in a reminder of some shared confidence, to which Kari, smirked, "Did she tell you what her dream was last night?" There was cheeky look on Kari's face as she referred to Victoria.

We all turned to look at the youngster.

"I dreamt we were at sea, rocking up and down. It was a bit of a nightmare. I know people were crying for help and we had been shipwrecked. Kari came in. She told me it was you two bonking away like mad." She laughed at Sarita, "You don't half shout out! I thought, at first, he was murdering you."

Sarita never said a word. At first, I thought she was stunned but a sly grin began to spread over her face. I began to feel really uncomfortable about my intimate actions being the focus of attention. What did I say about this day?

Victoria continued, "Mum and Dad used to go bonking every Saturday when they came back from the club. They never made that much noise though. There was me and Gareth in the house at the time." The moment she mentioned the word 'Gareth' she sank visibly and we saw she was downhearted.

No-one wanted to speak and we were all relieved when she felt the need to talk about him. "Gareth was my brother, he was seventeen. He took me to school and wasn't nasty like other brothers and sisters. When I was young, really little, some of them in my class thought he was my dad. He picked me up from school every day. When I first went to secondary* he was in the in the biggies classes and someone said he had a baby sister and he said, 'that's no baby that's Victoria. You say that again and I'll'..."

She stopped to re-live the moment. "Mum said he wanted a baby sister ever since he was two..."

Very quickly she brightened up but obviously wanted to change the subject. Facing Sarita, she looked worried, "Did it hurt a lot? Last night? You made a noise."

"Did you hear me screaming?" asked Sarita, leaning into her, almost eagerly. "Have you been to a funfair and up on the big rides when you scream because it's so exciting?"

"I've been to Alton Towers," she responded, remembering her own adventures.

Now, while this conversation was going on, I just wished a big stone would open up and I could crawl under it. I'm not used to my personal and private actions being related for the edification of anyone. Unfortunately, there aren't that many stones in cabins on board narrow boats.

I did wish that I'd stayed in bed. How could Sarita be so open about this? Was she trying to embarrass me on purpose?

She was revelling in giving out too many more details, "Then you know what it's like. Abba took me for a ride and a half last night. He made me feel so good he rode me really hard." She swirled around in her see-through nightwear. "I could eat a horse and I'm raring to go again!"

"You screamed?" reminded Victoria, still trying to put it all together in her pre-teen mind.

"Of course you scream," Sarita appeared to take great delight in elucidating. "You don't realise you're doing it. Like when you come down from the big loop you're just dying to go up there again, but all your energy's sapped. That was me last night."

I couldn't understand Sarita's talking to Victoria like this. Later, much later, she told me that Victoria was getting tensed up and worried about the operation and she wanted to distract her. She did that and, in the process, got me pissed off. Maybe, if I'd known at the time what she was doing, it wouldn't have been so bad.

I just know I looked a little guilty. The young girl gave me such a look saying, 'I wasn't born yesterday, you know'. The fact that she really knew what had happened made me feel worse. If I'd had a sister would I be immune to this, teasing, was that it? As it was, it was really getting to me.

Sarita went up to her and leant over and kissed her on the cheek. "Mummy," she announced, emphasising the word to make it obvious that she regarded it more as a nickname or joke than thinking of herself as a true substitute mother. "Mummy got well and truly put to sleep last night. She needed it. She's now fully rested and I'm feeling quite confident for later this morning." She patted Victoria on the wrist and, as she was talking, she was taking her blood pressure and temperature with the patient hardly being aware of what she was doing, "Just have this tablet, you'll feel better shortly."

Swallowing it down, Victoria giggled. "I knew it was you two," she said. Addressing Sarita, "You said we were having a quiet night!" Her voice dropped suddenly. She was voicing her concerns, she still couldn't see how sex could not be painful, "It didn't hurt, really?"

"Put it like this, Loved One, if I wasn't going to be busy all day, I'd drag that man into any bed and have my way with him all over again."

This was interrupted by Kari's, "Not on your nelly, it's my turn next." I thought she was about to do just that as she inched out of bed and displayed that she too was 'wearing', if that's the right word, a baby doll set that appeared to only come down to her midriff and a g-string that was twisted to expose EVERYTHING!

When the heck had she ever had time to shave? I even glanced to check Sarita who wasn't wearing any panties. She must have been fast off the mark, not a trace of dark stubble there at all! Well? Maybe there was a hint of fine hairs? I tried not to make my study too obvious.

I didn't know where to look as Kari had her legs wide astride Victoria so as to step nowhere near her on the bed and cause her pain and, I'm sure, she purposefully fell down off the bed to land up against me, pressing herself into me. If it were accidental, she still managed to get her hand right next to me, rubbing my cock deftly in such a way I quickly ended up with an obvious woody. "Shall I help you get that down?" she purred innocently. Then she slid out of the way to leave the condition under my clothing somewhat exposed to Victoria.

"How do you do that?" eagerly asked the youngster of her and then me.

I was mortified. Of course, I said nothing and crept away to the giggles of Sarita and Victoria and I'm sure the latter said something to the effect of, "Are they going to do IT now?"

I didn't hear that - on purpose.

What is it with the girls this morning? Kari was already at the loo while I followed her, really to bide time for my erection to subside naturally. Emerging into the galley, she was making my coffee dressed in that sexy nightie. I'd not seen it before. She pulled my hand around her and pushed her body up to me giving me a smouldering welcome. "Well, Loverboy, I certainly missed out last night."

There was not a hint of envy her attitude was almost congratulatory. "Sarita looks the better this morning for it. It's you and I have a date next sleepy-time. And I don't envisage your getting much sleep."

She stood back and posed suggestively. "Feast your eyes, Abba. You just remember, all day, what's on the menu. And any time you feel like, you can have a snack. But the main course comes after dinner."

She twisted round and half a second later was pressing her bottom into me, taking my free hand and placing it most definitely between her legs. "You still like bare pussy?"

There was no need for me to answer that question. My body was responding and she was pressing back towards me to experience the very firm evidence of my male reaction within the crack of her bottom. I couldn't resist and raised my hand up, fondling one of her breasts. At the touch of the proud large handful under my fingers I had no choice but to exhale slowly, making a whistling sound between my teeth. Putting the coffee down, within seconds I was fondling them both. They were so ... out of this world, I couldn't believe my good fortune that I was allowed to bounce and squeeze them to the obvious delight of Kari.

"Is that one yours too?"

Dropping my hand away quickly, I whizzed round to see a crawling figure at head-height protruding from the hatchway, the face of Sandra.

Was everyone doing it on purpose? Were they setting out to embarrass me? This time my erection subsided in one second flat. Very definitely, Kari grabbed both my hands and re-deposited them back on her breasts as if by withdrawing them I had suggested I was doing something wrong. "Both of them, both of these puppies belong to my man." She spoke possessively, possessively for her man, not her puppies.

We could both see that Sandra was calculating whether I was cheating on Sarita. Kari effortlessly put matters right, "He has another pair of chocolate ones that he was eating last night." She said this without an ounce of self-consciousness. "And when you get a man, you just see that you get one half as good as this. He's worth double or three times any man I have ever been out with before."

"Are you kinky, just like the other lot, sharing a man?"

Kari stood there, quite brazenly. She made no move to disguise her semi-nakedness as she turned round to face the girl who was, even now, dropping down onto the bench at the side of this cabin.

"If it's kinky to love your man, then maybe?"

She only became more inhibited with the awakening of Peter and the arrival of Petra, now being helped through the hatch. Thank goodness, in their presence, I was safe.

It was Petra's, "Why was the boat rocking last night? It doesn't usually," that made me go red.

"Oh it was only Fuckerboy, shagging one of his bints," leered Sandra and was about to say something else.

Peter interjected, cutting her off, "You know, Mum and Dad used to do it usually after you were asleep. I knew what it was. I could feel it in here."

And all the time Kari's body, pressed back into me, was convulsed in silent laughter. It was as if her bottom movements were designed for the purpose of making me get bigger and bigger every time she rubbed up and down. And, of course, I was getting more and more self-conscious and scared she would step away again. To stop her from exposing me again, I grabbed her around her waist using her as my covering.

Of course she took the opportunity to lean down and get some sugar from a low cupboard so my hands went all over her tits again and she looked around in feigned surprise as if I was purposefully mauling her.

Fortunately, I had the opportunity to ease away without anyone seeing my aroused state and slid onto a stool at the kitchen bar, sorry, galley. Here, I was no longer so exposed.

What a day! My face was as red as a beetroot and I just knew someone was going to ask why.

I stayed there as the others got around a table. They didn't say much to me. Was my aura scaring them away?

Victoria now appeared in a long tee. I think, because they didn't want Victoria to eat, we cut short our breakfast. In fact she stood up next to me. And suddenly, without a yawn, she was asleep. It was all I could do to catch her. The pre-med tablet had knocked her out so she would not be upset by the preparations.

It was as if everyone had been waiting for that signal.

Sandra listened intently as she was asked to take the two youngsters next door and let them play quietly and then to take the children out while the operation was in progress, in case they rocked one boat that banged into Traveller. Of course, that couldn't be phrased without more references to one boat rocking the other during the night. FUCK!

Sandra was great. It was the last we saw of her for a couple of hours. Without any hint of argument she took the two little ones off to play with their toys but playing next door was put on the back burner. As she called through, "I'll take the twins to get some really warm clothing." She encouraged them to go so she could 'buy' some ski wear for them. Even though it had to be explained to them that there was going to be no skiing, they were still mad keen to go out in the cold.

Sandra's objective was a high-class sports shop. The real motive was to spite the owner, who was probably dead anyway. Later on, in the day, we discovered that the proprietor had belittled her and made her appear to be a criminal. All she had been doing, a few weeks earlier, was exploiting some lazy wording in one of their advertisements. She had been convinced she was entitled to a free pair of mittens because the advertisement did not state that you had to buy a ski suit first. Today was retribution day with a vengeance as far as Sandra was concerned.

She felt very proud of herself as she took the children off. Kari sorted her out with a bike and trailer. Petra was going to pick up her bike from the back shed of her home and ride it to the shops; for her this was a real adventure. It was irrelevant that the proprietor was probably dead.

Peter, unable to sit on a bike, was ensconced in the large plastic water tank as proud as a King of the Orient as he went off bowing and raising his bandaged arm.

With those three out of the way, we were surprised to see the arrival of Dr Muller. She said that she would help with the anaesthetics. Sarita noticeably relaxed more at that.

Kari and I then started preparing the cabin; putting the tables up in such a way that they would act as an operating table. Kari sorted out the headlights. There were two; one was mounted on the bow of each vessel, primarily for when they navigated their way through tunnels. Kari disconnected them and within half an hour had mounted the pair over the table to act as strong illumination of the operation. Then, under Doctor Muller's direction, we covered the table with green sheets that should have been somewhat sterile.

My question was, why did we not got go the hospital? I'm sure they had everything already there and it would be sterile. Unfortunately it had no heating and they thought Victoria would be frightened. "If she's here," I was told, "she'll wake up in the bed she's been in for the last few days; it's less traumatic." It made sense to me, put like that.

I thought, with the arrival of another doctor, that I was in for a free ride. I was very much mistaken.

Why couldn't it be Kari?

"She's got a real aversion to blood and guts."

"I've got an aversion to..." I imagined the situation. No, it was more than my imagination could take in, seeing the damaged private bits of little Victoria.

My job was now surgeon's assistant. It entailed following the rigours of infection control as set out by Sarita. I had to be ready to present one of a large number of possible items in a sterile environment. She showed me how to unwrap these things without letting them be touched by any non-sterile object.

Even putting on rubber gloves was a lesson in itself. I had to do it without touching anything even with my washed hands.

No. I shall not go into the details of the procedure at all. In fact, I shall go so far as to say that I tried not to look. One thing I we amazed at was that Doc Sarita used a medical form of superglue in the most difficult place.

Doctor Muller had a really complex job of monitoring her at all times with stuff going into the back of Victoria's hand from a drip and something piggy-backed onto it. She hardly stopped taking measurements of oxygen and blood pressure and appeared to be permanently listening to her heart. It was all I could do not to let tears fall onto the sterile sheet for the implements so much did I feel for the sleeping girl.

I do know as she had finished, Dr Muller was quite in awe of the much younger professional. As they were tidying up, the pair of them had a real natter together. From the worry of the impending event, now it was over, we had an excited Sarita. I was surprised when I looked at the clock and found that it was not yet eleven thirty. Yet she had been working for over forty minutes.

There they were, the two doctors chatting as if they'd just been to watch a film premiere. Me, I felt so embarrassed. I just wished I had been anywhere else but there. It was the worst hour of my life, without a doubt!

In Sarita's own mind it had been building up and proving much more difficult than it had actually been. Using the proper materials she had been fine. Then, just when I thought she had finished, I could see she had a new burst of confidence.

"I think it's gone so well I'll just tidy up here." I was revolted as I couldn't help seeing where the bastards had attacked the girl so hard, the inner labia had been torn on one side so fiercely that Sarita decided her earlier repair would look lopsided for ever. Her solution was to turn around to the other doctor, "A labiaplasty, don't you think?"

I'm not going to look that up in a book but all I can say is that once I thought they were finished, Sarita preformed the worst thing I could imagine. I think it was worse because I could actually see what she was doing.

I'll tell you one thing; when a doctor says she's doing some tidying up, she doesn't mean getting out a duster and the vacuum cleaner. It's doctorese for cutting chunks of thin fleshy skin away! On one side of her vulva the torn inner labia was completely cut away and had been stitched before. But Sarita was not happy. Now with proper implements, she matched the other side by 'trimming' the other inner labia. How could she? How she had the courage to do that, I had no idea.

Yes, I could see how she meant it was cosmetic, but how that could be, with swollen bleeding tissue being sewn up, I have no idea. Things had not proven to be as bad as she had dreaded. She had dreaded! They were worse for me. I don't know how I kept from screaming, 'Don't hurt her any more!'

But then she must have done. Next, she pushed a tube thing in somewhere. I couldn't look. She said it was so she wouldn't have to pee and the uric acid wouldn't run over her wounds. Eugh!

I hadn't recovered by the time I carefully carried the lanky patient back to her bed and laid her down. I was almost in tears. My eyes were inflamed, that I know.

It was as I was on my way back and the girl was being watched by Doctor Muller, I hid in the toilet and puked my guts up.

Later, I dragged myself up on deck and if there'd been a cigarette available, I'd have become a chain smoker by half past twelve. There weren't. Instead, I just stood and shivered until Kari found me and I wasn't shaking with the cold.

I never wanted to live through another morning like that ever again.

I think I have more sensibilities for the equilibrium of my readers than Sarita had for me so I just advise each and every one of you to skip over my account of events that I set down for that afternoon.

Part II: Afternoon

Abba

After that awful morning, the afternoon started well. I began to feel better when the kids returned. Their reappearance brightened me up.

They were all walking and chatting happily when they hove into view, Sandra pushing hard into the wheeled bike with 'purchases' balanced above the crossbar. Its trailer was laden high. They had discovered Petra's tiny bike in a small outhouse at home but it had proven too small to ride. She must have been given it when she was four!

Peter though, had one sleeve unfilled and even had a false eye patch over one eye as Long John Silver. I thought he, Long John Silver that is, not Peter, had a leg missing, not a useless arm. So what did that little detail matter?

They really had gone to town. Sandra had taken advantage of the 'free offers'. Her brightly coloured bobble cap and matching gloves contrasted with her bulky and eye-catching top-of-the-range designer skiwear. They had salopettes* and long bulky warm waterproof jackets. Even though the temperature was less than three degrees, all of them looked more than warm. Of course the teenager had taken a leaf out of Sarita's book and had taken great pleasure in getting extra pairs for them to 'grow into'.

It was a happy trio who passed things on board Petetra and started to put them away. I took the opportunity to sort out a few more things. This appeared to be a never-ending chore. With the addition of Petetra to our armada, we now found it easier to store the bikes. We could easily handle two in the bow of Traveller and this one went onto Petetra's front deck. One on its own took up no space at all.

A small snack for lunch and then Peter, in a very mature manner, explained how, by using his father's 'canal card' and attaching the 240 volt extension cable, we could top up the diesel fuel at various depots along the canal. That Peter was a very knowledgeable young boy. It occurred to me that if he had known this, why had he accompanied Kari the previous day as they'd been siphoning fuel from the other canal boats? He probably thought it was a new game, part of their fun holiday.

By this time, Kari had cooked up a delicious format, 'Galician meatballs with spicy potatoes'. She had other vegetables too. I should have known it was all pre –prepared stuff from M&S and even the twins lapped it up and left nothing on their plates.

By this time his, Peter's, hand was feeling a bit worse for wear and starting to throb. It was decided that he needed to lie down. For some reason, a sling had been advised but he had persisted in ignoring it. He turned in with a painkiller whilst Petra went to play with her cuddly toys. Did I say that she had a new one now? It was an enormous teddy bear that she called Sandy? I didn't ask where it came from. But even I recognised that its name might have something to do with Sandra, on whom she now doted.

It was my job to look after the children and keep an eye particularly on Victoria as Sarita was dragged off to the hospital by Dr Muller. Victoria had awoken but was still woozy. The drugs she had been given, were letting her rest as she drifted in and out of a doze, peacefully. For some reason, Kari was also was called for and dragooned down to follow Sarita and I had to look after the children because, next, the policewoman drove up and insisted Sandra was yanked off too. Oh, Kari came back. She was in a bad humour. It was like Piccadilly Circus* with people coming and going. Finally P.C. Rowland brought Sandra back and they must have had an argument because Sandra was moody too and was told to stay down below with the twins. This, she did with bad grace.

P.C Rowland then poked her head down and started to descend the steps to come into the cabin to say something. Kari darted across the room and. "Oh, no, you don't. In that uniform you might frighten Victoria."

"Me? What's the matter with the police... ?"

I jumped in, not wanting any suggestion that we had ever had a confrontation with the police before. I had no idea what P.C Rowland's reaction might be. There was also the problem that, if things did get better in the future, I'd not want any deaths of policemen hanging over the heads of us, "It appears the man or men who attacked Victoria was wearing a security officer's clothing and we guessed it might have looked like a police uniform from what she said. We're just playing safe."

I tried to smile disarmingly. Instead, all I did was to raise the suspicions of the woman who reluctantly, almost resentfully, retired up to the deck and gave me a very dirty and distrustful look as I followed.

She became the authority figure now, "With all these kids to look after, you need some weapons' training. Get that red-headed Viking up here." At that, she proceeded to drag a picnic bench, from the pub garden nearby, over to near the canal, "Our police force had us all going on weapons' courses about four months ago and we were all trained in both the Glock 17's, which this is." She held up the revolver, as I thought. Shows how little I know about guns, it was a semi- automatic pistol, I was to learn.

"And we were given a working knowledge of this, which is a Heckler & Koch." She indicated the larger weapon, like the one she habitually wore, slung over her shoulder.