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Then, out of the rainbow whirls, came the girl, the blonde, smiling girl who knelt down beside him and started rubbing warm oil into his chest in a slow circular motion. She did it gently with her fingertips and then harder with the heels of both hands, alternating with perfect regularity so that he could anticipate when the change was coming.

Steven’s heart was full of love. He smiled at her as if the sun were inside him instead of above and shining down on both of them from an azure sky. He reached up to run his fingers through her silky blonde hair and trace the line of her slim tanned shoulders as she worked the oil into his skin. They knew each other so well. Love and affection just flowed between them.

Steven caught his breath as her hands started to move down on him and he responded by bringing his hands up to cup her breasts and marvel at their firmness. She paused for a moment to undo her bra top and slip it off, shivering as Steven gently used his fingernails to tease her now hard nipples.

With a knowing smile, the girl sat astride him and moved backwards to work both hands between his thighs. He groaned with pleasure and closed his eyes as for a moment he was transported back to the past. He was fourteen years old and Miriam Barnes was introducing him to the mysteries of the opposite sex in the youth club hut in Patterdale. A few of them had stayed behind after the Friday night dance — ostensibly to clear up — but with teenage hormones raging, an alternative agenda was always on the cards. One of the kids had turned the lights out after putting on some music and at some point, he and Miriam had found themselves in the storeroom where the camping and games equipment was kept. They had made a makeshift nest out of bits and pieces and lay down to explore each other in the dark. She had tugged down his zip to slip her hand inside his jeans while he had rejoiced in the swell of her young breasts and the glorious journey his hand made up under her skirt to slip inside her panties. All this while outside in the hall the others were pairing off to the sounds of Pink Floyd’s soulful, Wish You Were Here.

Miriam had brought new meaning to his life that evening, one that was to leave a smile on his face for days. His sense of wonder was perhaps never to rise again to the heights it had scaled on that occasion… until now.

This girl was more skilled than Miriam and knew how to ensure that what might well have been a sprint became an odyssey. Using her mouth and hands she took him to the brink then reined him back. Such pleasure was not unknown to him but the sense of wonder was as great as on that first time so many years before.

The girl moved up on him and guided him expertly inside her. Three short squats and she had impaled herself on him to begin gyrating her hips in a slow rhythmic grind, making him wonder it were possible to die of pleasure. He tried to share this thought with her but found that he couldn’t get the words out. It didn’t matter: she just smiled and put a finger to her lips then continued on her mission.

There came a point when Steven grew impatient with his passive role. Male hormones were demanding that he take charge. He wanted the girl beneath him. He needed to dominate her, thrust deep and hard into her until this beautiful journey came to its rightful end.

He reached up to take her by the shoulders but she recoiled from him. She was no longer smiling. Something had broken the spelclass="underline" she was now detached, distant and alarmingly different.

Feeling confused, Steven looked at her questioningly but in an instant the dream evaporated and the world exploded inside his head. Pleasure gave way to searing pain as he was rolled off the bed and blows rained down on him. His body shuddered as boots thudded into his ribs and fists smashed into his face. The pain soared until the bright lights and colours of a few moments ago yielded to an agonised spiral downwards into seemingly infinite blackness.

The dream had become a nightmare. He was in such pain that he couldn’t move without stabs of protest coming from his injured body. The bed was hard and it was wet; he could feel it grazing his cheek. In fact, it wasn’t a bed at all; it was… a pavement… it was raining… and it wasn’t a dream.

Steven’s eyes flickered open to see flashing blue lights reflected in a puddle in the gutter where he was lying. There were people nearby but he felt that he couldn’t turn his head just yet. He went on gazing at the puddle, watching a cigarette butt and a chewing gum wrapper float hither and thither on the rippled surface as a slight breeze rose and fell away again. He moved his attention to some moss growing in a join in the pavement as he tried to determine which part of him was hurting most. The vague sounds nearby however, were starting to become distinguishable words.

‘ I don’t fucking believe it, Mike,’ said a man’s voice. ‘Do you know who this guy is?’

‘ Surprise me,’ said another man’s voice sourly.

‘ None other than Dr Steven bloody Dunbar.’

‘ You’re joking!’ exclaimed the other man, now sounding very interested. ‘The Home Office guy the boss has been shitting bricks about?’

‘ The very same. Take a look. Her Majesty’s Sci-Med Inspectorate.’

Steven who had now regained full consciousness realised that his warrant card had been taken from his pocket. He tried to move without much success but the two men above him noticed the attempt and knelt down beside him. He could see now that they were policemen. He could smell boot polish and the wet serge of their trousers.

‘ Just you stay put, pal,’ said one. ‘An ambulance is on its way. You’ve had a bit of a doing.’

‘ And well deserved too,’ said the other. ‘If what we’ve been hearing is anything to go by. Santini is going to love this. Man o man. Yes siree. I can almost feel promotion in the air.’

The two policemen started laughing as they stood up.

Steven, wondering just what the hell they found so funny, tried to raise his head to demand an explanation. The arriving ambulance however, drowned out his words and two different uniforms jumped out to take centre stage.

After an examination by two paramedics, during which it was established that none of his limbs had been broken, Steven was helped up and into the back of the vehicle after waving away a stretcher. The last thing he saw before the doors were closed was a lilac neon sign on the wall of the building outside. It said, ‘Cuddles’.

‘ You were lucky,’ said the young woman doctor in A amp; E.

Steven closed his eyes and felt sure that if he had fallen into a mincing machine and lost all his limbs, someone would be sure to come up to him and say these self same words.

‘ No broken bones,’ continued the severe looking young woman. ‘Just bruised ribs and a variety of cuts and bruises that should keep you out of mischief for a bit. We’d like to keep you in overnight though, just as a precaution. You took quite a beating about the head. We’ll do some tests. Any idea how long you were unconscious?’

‘ What time is it now?’ Steven asked.

‘ 2 a.m. give or take.’

‘ Since the back of six last night.’

‘ What?’ exclaimed the doctor. ‘Are you serious?’

‘ The last thing I remember is getting into my car around six last night. Someone grabbed me from behind and then… nothing until I came round in the gutter.’

‘ Well, memory loss is not that uncommon after head trauma. It’ll probably come back to you. In the meantime the police would like to have a word if you feel up to it?’

Steven nodded. As he waited, he ran his hand over the strapping that had been applied to his ribs and then explored his face for lumps and bumps, grimacing as he came across each of them. He was counting the butterfly stitches above his right eye when two plain-clothes officers entered. Neither smiled but they exuded an air of smugness as they introduced themselves that put Steven on his guard.