The Cadet Sergeant Major (16 page)

Then the dreadful moment arrived. Capt Conkey turned to the company and said: “OK section commanders, take your sections and practice that. Be back in twenty minutes, by..” He consulted his watch; “By fifteen twenty. Off you go.”

Kate at once stood up. She dusted her trousers and looked down at Peter. “I am going,” she said amidst the general hubbub.

Peter seemed to be drawn to his feet by an invisible force emanating from her eyes. His mouth was dry and his pulse pounded in his ears. She fixed him with a hard, challenging look and said, “I am going up this little hollow and across the Canning Road. There is a gully there. I will say I am going to the toilet if I am asked. If you love me you will meet me there in five minutes.”

Without waiting for an answer she turned and strode off. Peter stood there, his whole being in emotional turmoil. His conscience and common sense cried ‘NO', but the darker side of his mind said, ‘She is right, the place is like a disturbed ant hill. Nobody will notice.' There were sections and cadets moving in all directions. He despised himself for being weak enough to even consider giving in.

By then Peter was alone under the tree. His eyes followed Kate as she walked with determined strides up the gentle slope of Bare Ridge. She was already a hundred metres away. He watched her as she passed through Frederick's section near the rocks without being noticed.

Peter sensed that if he passed up this invitation she would despise him; and that it would be the end of the affair. The idea caused him a sharp pain which seemed to hurt even more than the stabbing guilt. And worse- his very manhood had been challenged. And his maleness was driving him now with a fierce urge. He swallowed, licked his lips and wiped his palms on his trousers. She went out of sight over the crest.

‘Well, this is it,' Peter muttered. He began walking after her.

Almost immediately he encountered Graham who was walking across to Cpl Hopewell's section. Peter's stomach seemed to turn over and his heart fluttered in panic.

Graham nodded. “G'day Pete. Where you off to?”

Peter felt sick. His eyes went out of focus. He gestured towards Bare Ridge. “Over there,” he lied, the words seeming to stick in his throat. His voice sounded distant and unnatural. He hoped it sounded normal to Graham.

Graham glanced up the slope and saw Frederick's section standing around in no apparent order.

“Yes, they need some help. He's a useless corporal that. I reckon young Tracey Rowley, the section 2ic, is carrying that mob,” Graham replied. He continued on his way.

Peter felt even worse then. He realized that Graham had misunderstood. He was both relieved; and disgusted with himself. In his heart he knew that he had just deliberately deceived his best mate. That made him stop when he reached Cpl Frederick's section.

‘Graham is right,' he observed. ‘Tracey Rowley is the real leader.' He called Cpl Fredericks to get the section organized and moving. Once this was achieved he followed them, still in a state of emotional turmoil. He had never experienced anything like it and was frightened by its intensity.

‘Or am I just a coward?' he wondered miserably.

Sexual desire was his real opponent. He had only to think of Kate and his desire increased until it was like a burning itch. By this time he was perspiring from head to toe and was continually swept by trembling.

The section patrolled up past the rocks and along beside the road. Fredericks then talked them through the drill they had just been taught, with frequent nervous glances at Peter.

Peter was very conscious that he was now beside the road near the head of the gully. He could not see Kate but assumed she would be out of sight. ‘I could be across the road and into the gully in just a few steps,' his mind told him. Again he battled with the temptation while pretending to be bored.

Frederick's section then began a second practice, this time heading away from the road and along Sandy Ridge. Peter began to follow them, secretly relieved. He cast a wistful glance back down the gully.

Kate was there. She had stepped from behind a tree about fifty paces down the gully and looked at him. Then she beckoned to him.

Peter hesitated- and was lost. With his mind aflame with passion he turned and walked quickly across the road. As he did he was swept by a feeling of savage regret, tinged by real fear. As he crossed the road he glanced both ways along it to see if anyone was watching and felt the heat of shame- and lust.

He moved quickly down the gully, with several guilty glances over his shoulder. Kate smiled as he approached and moved around a bend further down the gully. Peter joined her. He looked around. They were out of sight of the road. By moving one pace he could see back up the gully. On one side the ground sloped up gently and was covered by a stand of straggly eucalypts and clumps of bushes. On the other side the bank was steeper and he could only see a few metres. That worried him as people could walk to the lip of the gully with no warning.

Now he faced Kate. She smiled again and held out her hands. He took them, noting that his were very sweaty and hers felt cool and dry. Neither wore any webbing so when they came together he could feel every curve of her body- and she of his.

She pressed firmly against his hardness and murmured. “Mmmm.... Peter!... You do love me.” Then she giggled and turned her face up to be kissed.

Peter seized her to him and covered her lips with his. Her tongue began to explore his mouth and she rubbed her body against him. Passion engulfed him in a storm of such intensity he would not have believed possible. When they drew apart after several minutes he stood gasping and trembling, his attention entirely focused on her.

She snuggled against him and they kissed again and they began instinctively to pet. As they did he was very aware of his inexperience- and it was also obvious to him that Kate was not. It made him worried that he might not perform to her satisfaction. It also caused him tiny twinges of sadness and doubt. He was both shocked and desperately excited by her forwardness. Something deep inside hinted that he should go slower, that things were not right, but there she was in his arms and giving fairly obvious hints that he could do more if he wished.

Peter was not quite sure what to do and embarrassment added to his heat. They kissed again. His fingers moved up to stroke her neck, then sought the buttons of her shirt. He fumbled one undone. Not enough he discovered. With trembling fingers he undid another. He shivered and hesitated. All the while he was afraid to do something she did not want, and even more afraid of going too far. He did not dare ask so he tried to read her body language.

She seemed to be leaning back and waiting, her face all changed, with a far-away look and suffused with passion. It frightened him as he knew instinctively she was his if he wished.

Peter kissed her again. Then, greatly daring, with his mouth dry and heart pounding, he slid his hand inside her shirt. She sighed, closed her eyes and pushed against him.

They began to ‘pash' with more urgency. Remembering comments made by his friends he gently experimented. She sighed again and kissed him fiercely. Heartbeats drummed in his ears.

-And so did voices!

Someone was coming!

Peter froze in fear. Yes! Someone was heading their way! Instantly he released Kate, snatching his hand from inside her shirt. Stepping quickly back he looked up the gully.

Movement among the trees up to the left caught his eye- a section of cadets- and heading towards them! There was a scurry of thudding boots and a cadet ran down into the gully just up from them. He vanished from sight behind the small spur. A voice up in the trees called out, “And hurry up Clayfield!”

Gallon's section. Peter looked around, his stomach churning in near panic. His eyes met Kate's. They were wide with alarm; but her face showed annoyance. Peter bit his lip. What to do?

“I don't think they've seen us yet,” he whispered. He moved cautiously for three paces and peered around the bend. Cadet Clayfield was there with his back to him, busy pulling down his trousers. After a quick look around Peter turned and beckoned to Kate to follow. He set off down the gully. Instead she crept over and looked up the gully. Peter had not wanted her to do that and was embarrassed. Then she turned, grinning with amusement and followed him.

Peter walked as quickly as he dared, very conscious of the boot prints they were leaving in the dry sand, and of the fact the gully wasn't really deep enough to hide them unless they crawled. The scrunching of their boots sounded very loud to him and he was sure Clayfield must hear them. The murmur of voices up in the trees sounded very close. Peter glanced that way frequently but could not see anyone. Once, as they rounded another bend, he looked back up the gully and saw the back of Clayfield's head and shoulders but he was busy.

They rounded another bend. Peter wiped sweat from his eyes and realized he was breathing so fast he was almost hyperventilating. Fifty metres down the gully Peter stopped. From the shelter of an eroded bend he looked back. Kate joined him, the front of her shirt still unbuttoned.

“I don't think they saw us,” Peter said. He shivered with emotion and wiped more sweat away.

“No,” Kate agreed.

Peter looked anxiously around. He was desperately worried. “I think we should separate and go back.”

Kate turned her mouth down. “I don't want to. I was just starting to enjoy it. We could just go a bit further down this gully and find somewhere quiet.”

Peter bit his lip. He was scared but the urge was strong within him. He wiped sweaty palms on his trousers and licked lips that felt dry and cracked. For a moment he tried to summon sensible counter-arguments. Then voices and movement again disturbed them.

It was Gallon's section again. They were practising one of the drills they had been taught and were heading down the gully. Peter glimpsed several running figures. ‘We must get away before they see us,' he thought. In his mind he pictured trying to explain why he and a girl were so far from the others. Rather than face that embarrassment he turned and hurried on down the gully, all the while casting guilty glances in all directions. Kate followed.

The gully emerged onto an area of almost level ground. The flanking spurs ended. The watercourse was only two paces wide and was now just a shallow erosion washout. It twisted across a hundred paces of flat ground through several thorn trees. Beyond was the boundary fence.

“We had better separate,” he said. “I will go right. You go left.”

“No,” Kate replied. “I am going down there, through the fence. They won't follow us there.” She gave him a hard look.

Peter knew it was a direct challenge. ‘If I don't follow, that is it!'

Kate did not wait to discuss it. She walked to the fence and rolled under. Yelling and the thud of boots sounded not far back up the gully. Peter groaned, licked his lips, looked back up the gully- then followed Kate.

He rolled under the fence and stood up. Sand coated both palms, adhering to the sweat. He brushed it off as he walked. Kate looked over her shoulder and smiled. They walked as fast as they could.

The gully deepened, became rocky and harder to walk along. Another gully joined from the right. By then they were below ground level and out of sight. Looking back Peter got occasional glimpses of Bare Ridge. There was no sign of movement there. The banks rose higher, black rocks in dry grass with a scattering of ironbarks. There was no breeze and the sun seemed to blaze down. The light seemed to be unnaturally bright. Peter glanced up. Not a cloud in the sky.

Peter was now very aware that they were outside the training area and on private property. He began to worry about encountering the landowner and getting into trouble for trespassing. ‘And he would report us to Capt Conkey.' Peter could not see Capt Conkey believing that he had got lost. It made him feel sick to think about it.

There didn't seem to be any pleasant shady spot to stop so Kate kept walking. Peter reluctantly followed, despising himself for being weak. A dirt vehicle track angled down across the gully; the track from an old farm to the junction of the two rivers. There was an earth mound backed by a concrete structure up on the left. Peter knew exactly where he was. They had passed this way on their reconnaissance patrol the previous year. The concrete was a retaining wall for the stop butts of an abandoned World War 2 rifle range.

Peter turned up the vehicle track and peered over the top of the bank. They were now out in the middle of the river flood plain. Beyond the butts was a large flat paddock with cattle grazing in it. From there Peter had a clear view back up to Bare Ridge but saw no sign of any cadets. He walked the ten paces to the concrete butts. Kate followed.

The place was half overgrown with rubber vine and the floor was littered with rusty corrugated iron, twisted steel target frames and broken glass. There was no shade.

“This is no good,” Peter muttered.

Kate frowned peevishly. “Where can we go then?”

Peter looked around. Further down the gully, only about one hundred metres away, the tops of a dense line of trees showed.

“That is the river there. I suppose we could go there.”

Kate looked. “The Bunyip River? That's a good idea. We could have a swim. I'm all hot and sweaty.”

Peter's mind leapt in a mixture of panic and pleasure. A swim! Wearing what? Their underwear? He was hot he had to admit, but he was also mighty scared. Trembling with emotion he wiped perspiration from his face.

“Aw, I don't know. I think we should go back.”

Kate made a face. “I'm going,” she said firmly. “Come with me if you want to.”

“OK,” Peter croaked, his throat constricted by lust and fear.

Kate walked back down into the gully. Peter shrugged and followed. His vision seemed to have become restricted, as though he was wearing dark blinkers. All he could see was Kate's back, the swing of her hips. His mind was just a squirming mass of confusion fuelled by desire.

The gully became very deep, at least ten metres, with steep sides of bare, eroded clay. It debouched abruptly onto a grassy flat lined with a dense growth of rubber vines and large trees. The trees, mostly large paperbarks, were all bent over, growing away from the direction of the fierce floods which swept down the river each summer. There were no floods this day. It was September. There had been no rain for months. The river ran clear and shallow; gurgling pleasantly over small boulders and across patches of sand and gravel. Beyond the line of trees the bed of the river stretched for over half a kilometre to the far bank. Most of the bed was white sand, almost blinding to look at in the glare of the sun. Only the twenty metres closest to them had water.

Down under the trees the grass was lush and green. There was cool shade and it was very pleasant. A cattle pad led along the grassy lower bank next to the trees. The pair walked along this for fifty paces till they found a nice little grassy flat in under the trees. A tiny beach fronted it. The tree branches overhung the grassy flat, beach and part of the river.

“This is lovely!” Kate cried in delight.

“It is,” Peter agreed. ‘Just made for the job,' he thought. He looked around for signs of people. In the distance he could hear the buzz of traffic crossing the concrete road bridge but he could only just see part of it through the trees. The bridge was nearly a kilometre downstream. They would not be seen from there. In the river bed were several ‘dry islands', sand dunes with grass and clumps of trees growing on them. He scrutinised these, then the far bank. No sign of life.

Kate snuggled up to him and gave him a kiss. Then she eased herself away and wiped perspiration from her face. “Phew, it's hot! I'm all sweaty.” She turned and looked at the water. “Let's have a swim,” she suggested.

“I haven't got any bathers,” Peter replied, trying not to get too involved, or to commit himself to a course of action which might have dire consequences.

Kate giggled and gave him another wicked grin. “Neither have I. We can swim in the nude. I don't mind if you don't.”

What could he say? He was after all a man - or at least he wanted to prove himself one. It was a temptation he did not know how to resist. Anyway, Kate did not wait. She sat on the grassy bank and began unlacing her boots. Peter sat beside her and did likewise, unable to quite believe that what was happening was real. It was like a fantasy come true. All the while his heart was thumping rapidly and his mouth had gone dry again. His fingers trembled and he fumbled a lot.

Kate seemed to flick off her boots and socks. She stood and peeled off her trousers. Peter glanced at her legs close beside him, wanting to stare but trying to pretend he was ‘cool'. He felt his throat constrict. Would she? Yes, she did. She unbuttoned the shirt and cast it on the grass.

“Mmmm,” she murmured as she stretched. Peter tugged off a boot and began peeling off a sock. Kate stood beside him in her underwear and stretched again.

‘Surely she will swim in her bra and panties?' he thought. He had never been with a girl like this and he was finding it almost overwhelming. Before his incredulous eyes she reached back, unclipped the bra and shrugged it off. Then she hooked her thumbs in her panties, gave him a mischievous wink and pulled them down. Peter could only gape. He licked his lips. This exceeded his wildest hopes.

Kate walked down the tiny beach in front of him and tested the water with her toes. Peter's eyes drank in the perfection of her curves, the creamy smoothness of her skin.

‘She is lovely!'

Kate waded slowly in, then looked back. The water was only knee deep.

“It's a bit cold,” she said. “But it's nice.” She scooped up some water and wiped her face, then sighed. “Come on,” she called. The sunlight lit up her body and she seemed to glow with beauty.

Peter peeled off his other sock and stood up. With trembling fingers he unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it off. Kate sank to her knees and began splashing gently. Now Peter faced a major psychological hurdle. He had never, ever been naked in the presence of a girl. He was simultaneously torn by fear, embarrassment and desire. He was particularly sensitive about offending her by exposing himself. He was also aware that he was feeling extraordinarily fragile.

‘I must not get this wrong,' Peter thought, sensing that it could cause him considerable shame and grief if he did.

Kate turned side on, offering him a delicious profile view. She met his eyes, her face calm and serious. “Come on Peter. The water is lovely.”

“I...I... I don't .. don't want to offend you,” he stammered while fumbling with the buttons of his trousers.

She nodded. “You won't. It's alright. Come on.”

It seemed as though surf was pounding in Peter's skull. He took a deep breath and pulled his trousers down. To his embarrassment he almost tripped while peeling them off. He felt red hot in the face as she sat and watched. With another gasp of determination he pulled off his underpants, very aware of his aroused state.

In a sort of trance he walked towards her. Her eyes followed every move, riveted on his maleness. In a sort of panic he stumbled into the water, ignoring its coldness and crouched beside her. To his relief she was still smiling. Her eyes seemed to draw them together. They kissed gently. She put her arms around him and they pressed together and kissed again. With the feel of her skin against his he began to lose all control. He slid his hand down her back and marvelled at its silken smoothness.

For the next ten minutes they kissed and stroked each others increasingly heated bodies. Peter thought he was in heaven as they enjoyed each other's touch.

But at the back of his mind was nagging fear and a voice saying, ‘Don't do anything serious! Not yet! Is this the right time?'

Kate moaned and pressed against him. He kissed her neck and shoulders, tasting dried salt. Then they lost their balance and toppled over. The cold water engulfed them and they broke apart. Peter knelt on the sandy bottom and shook the water from his eyes.

Kate laughed aloud. “Ooh! That was refreshing,” she cried. She turned. “Rub my back please.”

Peter moved behind her and splashed water on her shoulders. He began to stroke and massage. Kate murmured in appreciation. “Oooh! Mmmmm! That's nice. Keep going,” she gasped huskily.

Peter did so. ‘This is wonderful!' he thought. ‘And she is beautiful,' he thought as he savoured the sensations; the sight of her naked body; the place, with its shady trees and gurgling clear water.' Intense desire surged in him and he held her tightly and kissed her with heart-pounding intensity.

After a few minutes the sand and gravel began to hurt his knees so he changed position. Kate lay back in his arms and they kissed again. Once again they toppled over. Both went under but rose laughing. Peter wiped water from his eyes and moved to face Kate and, without really being conscious of what he was doing, took hold of her. Her eyes were wide and searched his face. Hers became very serious but calm. Then she shivered and shook her head.