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As night fell over Eel Sretch the wind increased to Gale Force Eight. Rain hammered on the cabin roof, waves slapped against the hull and the cabin cruiser, listing to starboard, settled more firmly into the mud. Inside the cabin the air was thick with smoke and bad feelings, Gaskell had opened a bottle of vodka and was getting drunk. To pass the time they played Scrabble.

‘My idea of hell,’ said Gaskell, ‘is to be huis closed with a couple of dykes.’

‘What’s a dyke?’ said Eva.

Gaskell stared at her. ‘You don’t know?’

‘I know the sort they have in Holland…’

‘Yoga bear,’ said Gaskell, ‘you are the naïvest. A dyke is–’

‘Forget it, G’ said Sally. ‘Whose turn to play?’

‘It’s mine.’ said Eva. ‘I…M…P spells Imp.’

‘O…T…E…N…T spells Gaskell,’ said Sally.

Gaskell drank some mote vodka. ‘What the hell sort of game we supposed to be playing? Scrabble or some sort of Truth group?’

‘Your turn,’ said Sally.

Gaskell put D…I…L…D on the O. ‘Try that for size.’

Eva looked at it critically.

‘You can’t use proper names,’ she said. ‘You wouldn’t let me use Squezy.’

‘Eva teats, dildo is not a proper name. It’s an improper thing. A surrogate penis.’

‘A what?’

‘Never mind what it is,’ said Sally. ‘Your turn to play.’ Eva studied her letters. She didn’t like being told what to do so often and besides she still wanted to know what a dyke was. And a surrogate penis. In the end she put L…O…V on the E.

‘Is a many-splendoured thing,’ said Gaskell and put D…I…D on the L and O.

‘You can’t have two of them,’ said Eva. ‘You’ve got one Dildo already.’

‘This one’s different,’ said Gaskell, ‘it’s got whiskers.’

‘What difference does that make?’

‘Ask Sally. She’s the one with penis envy.’

‘You asshole,’ said Salty and put F…A…G…G…O on the T. ‘Meaning you.’

‘Like I said. Truth Scrabble,’ said Gaskell. ‘Trouble for sure. So why don’t we have an encounter group instead. Let the truth hang out like it is.’

Eva used the F to make faithful. Gaskell followed with Hooker and Sally went Insane.

‘Great.’ said Gaskell, ‘Alphabetical I Ching.’

‘Wunderkind, you slay me,’ said Sally.

‘Go Zelda yourself,’ said Gaskell and slid his hand up Eva’s thigh.

‘Keep your hands to yourself,’ said Eva and pushed him away. She put S and N on the I. Gaskell made Butch with the B.’

‘And don’t tell me it’s a proper name.’

‘Well it’s certainly not a word I’ve heard.’ said Eva.

Gaskell stared at her and then roared with laughter.

‘Now I’ve heard it all.’ he said. ‘Like cunnilingus is a cough medicine. How dumb can you get?’

‘Go look in the mirror,’ said Sally.

‘Oh sure. So I married a goddam lesbian whore who goes round stealing other people’s wives and boats and things. I’m dumb. But boobs here beats me. She’s so fucking hypocritical she pretends she’s not a dyke…’

‘I don’t know what a dyke is,’ said Eva.

‘Well let me inform you, fatso. A dyke is a lesbian,’

‘Are you calling me a lesbian?’ said Eva.

‘Yes,’ said Gaskell.

Eva slapped him across the face hard. Gaskell’s glasses came off and he sat down on the floor.

‘Now G…’ Sally began but Gaskell had scrambled to his feet.’

‘Right you fat bitch,’ he said. ‘You want the truth you’re going to get it. First off, you think husband Henry got into that doll off his own bat, well let me tell you…’

‘Gaskell, you just shut up.’ shouted Sally.

‘Like hell I will. I’ve had about enough of you and your rotten little ways. I picked you out of a cathouse…’

‘That’s not true. It was a clinic,’ screamed Sally, ‘a clinic for sick perverts like you.’

Eva wasn’t listening. She was staring at Gaskell. He had called her a lesbian and had said Henry hadn’t got into that doll of his own accord.

‘Tell me about Henry,’ she shouted. ‘How did he get into that doll?’

Gaskell pointed at Sally. ‘She,’ put him there. That poor goof wouldn’t know…’

‘You put him there?’ Eva said to Sally. ‘You did?’

‘He tried to make me, Eva. He tried to–’

‘I don’t believe it,’ Eva shouted. ‘Henry isn’t like that.’

‘I tell you he did. He…’

‘And you put him in that doll?’ Eva screamed and launched herself across the table at Sally. There was a splintering sound and the table collapsed, Gaskell scudded sideways on to the bunk and Sally shot out of the cabin. Eva got to her feet and moved forward towards the door. She had been tricked, cheated and lied to. And Henry had been humiliated. She was going to kill that bitch Sally. She stepped out into the cockpit. On the far side Sally was a dark shadow. Eva went round the engine and lunged at her. The next moment she had slipped on the oily deck and Sally had darted across the cockpit and through the door into the cabin. She slammed the door behind her and locked it. Eva Wilt got to her feet and stood with the rain running down her face and as she stood there the illusions that had sustained her through the week disappeared. She saw herself as a fat, silly woman who had left her husband in pursuit of a glamour that was false and shoddy and founded on brittle talk and money. And Gaskell had said she was a lesbian. The full nausea of knowing what Touch Therapy had meant dawned on Eva. She staggered to the side of the boat and sat down on a locker.

And slowly her self-disgust turned back to anger, and a cold hatred of the Pringsheims. She would get her own back on them. They would be sorry they had ever met her. She got up and opened the locker and took out the lifejackets and threw them over the side. Then she blew up the airbed, dropped it into the water and climbed over herself. She let herself down into the water and lay on the airbed. It rocked alarmingly but Eva was not afraid. She was getting her revenge on the Pringsheims and she no longer cared what happened to her. She paddled off through the little waves pushing the lifejackets in front of her. The wind was behind her and the airbed moved easily. In five minutes she had turned the corner of the reeds and was out of sight of the cruiser. Somewhere in the darkness ahead there was the open water where they had seen the dinghies and beyond it land.

Presently she found herself being blown sideways into the reeds. The rain stopped and Eva lay panting on the airbed. It would be easier if she got rid of the lifejackets. She was far enough from the boat for them to be well hidden. She pushed them into the reeds and then hesitated. Perhaps she should keep one for herself. She disentangled a jacket from the bunch and managed to put it on. Then she lay face down on the airbed again and paddled forward down the widening channel.

Sally leant against the cabin door and looked at Gaskell with loathing.

‘You stupid jerk.’ she said. ‘You had to open your big mouth. So what the hell are you going to do now?’

‘Divorce you for a start.’ said Gaskell.

‘I’ll alimony you for all the money you’ve got.’

‘Fat chance. You won’t get a red cent.’ Gaskell said and drank some more vodka.

‘I’ll see you dead first,’ said Sally.

Gaskell grinned. ‘Me dead? Anyone’s going to die round here, it’s you. Booby baby is out for blood.’

‘She’ll cool off.’

‘You think so? Try opening that door if you’re so sure. Go on, unlock it,’

Sally moved away from the door and sat down.

‘This time you’ve really bought yourself some trouble,’ said Gaskell. ‘You had to pick a goddam prizefighter.’