The First Betrayal

THE FIRST BETRAYAL

By

A M Clarke

Copyright by

A M Clarke

2016

For my boys, past and present.

You are with me always.

Matthew  6:14-5

“For if you forgive other people when they sin against you, your heavenly Father will also forgive you, but if you do not forgive others their sins, your Father will not forgive your sins.”

A teacher once asked

‘What is forgiveness?’

A little girl answered

‘It’s the wonderful smell that a flower gives when it is being crushed.’

  Chapter One



The ship and human debris crashed with the white frothy waves against the rocky shore. The seagulls were screaming at each other, not wanting to share the fleshy feast that lay strewn in their watery path. Stephen Powers looked in horror at the mangled wreckage before him. While out for his morning walk with his beloved collie Chequers, the terrible caterwauling from the gulls had drawn him over to the cliffs edge. It was his favourite time of year, and it was a stunning autumnal day. The heat from a still strong sun was complimented with a soft cooling breeze. The ruthless savagery of the water below was a stark contradiction to the day’s beauty.  His brain desperately trying to comprehend what his eyes were seeing and it was almost beyond description. The bodies banged against the rocks, their clothes shredded and showing the white bloated flesh beneath. Judging by the amount of gulls and destruction already inflicted to the bodies, they had been lying in the water for some time. Stephen called Chequers and raced back to the house to call the coastguard.

  Chapter Two



Further, inland a newly married couple were having their first row.

‘Look Jen, I don’t want you working even part time. We are married now and going to start a family soon. You’ll need to be here getting our home ready for the children.’

‘My god Johnny, how many “children” do you think we are going to have‘? A gob smacked Jen wanted to know.  

'I haven’t really thought too much about it, three or four, maybe.' Johnny answered, lying through his teeth. Just as Jen was about to explode with what she considered justified indignation, there was a soft knocking on the door. As Johnny went to answer, Jen paced the living room floor, seething and ready to launch a verbal assault as soon as he got back. How dare he think she was going to be a baby making machine, especially so soon in their marriage. SHE had plans and it did not involve dirty nappies and chapped nipples. After a few minutes, Johnny returned with a strange man.

'Jen, this is Adam, he’s new to the island and was looking - - - - - . Jen didn’t hear anymore, she had tuned out her husbands voice. ‘Oh my god he’s beautiful’ she thought, unsure if she thought it aloud or not. The beautiful stranger stood before her, tall, with blonde hair, cheekbones to die for and the most amazing emerald green eyes she had ever seen. His beauty astounded her and as he stared into her eyes, she felt that he was violating her very soul. Johnny was transfixed as he watched the man he had invited into his home, move towards his wife and pull her roughly towards him.  As if he was watching underwater and wearing goggles, Johnny could see through the fog the stranger kiss Jen. He kissed her hard on the mouth, so hard his teeth pierced her lip. She tried to resist, which pleased him, by beating her small fists against his strong upper arms. Her resistance was short lived and he watched her lips respond to his aggressive mouth. He watched her body tremble with excitement; she never trembled like that with him. The stranger lifted his wife off the floor and pushed her against the wall so hard that the pictures shook. She did not seem to care, and he watched as the stranger unzipped his engorged manhood, hike up her skirt, rip off her knickers and shove himself unceremoniously inside her. To his extreme shame, Johnny was also so engorged with vile lust that he thought he would explode. He tried to scream, to make them stop, before he did explode, but he could not, and truth be told, he did not want them to stop. His body was betraying him, just as surely as his wife was. Jen moaned in pleasure as he devoured her body, her goodness, her faith and her sanity. His sanity was being destroyed by his inability to stop this nightmare and stop his carnal desire from overwhelming him. Suddenly a scream and a shudder from his wife signalled the end of the unnatural union before him. The stranger pushed Jen away like a pet that had become tiresome. Johnny’s paralyses did not want to give up its hold on him as the stranger turned his attention to him. 

'Thank you Johnny, your wife made quite the willing whore, and I can clearly see your appreciation of our little performance.'  With that, the stranger cupped Johnny’s bulging groin in his hand and squeezed, gently at first, then harder, and harder. A moan escaped Johnny’s lips, and it was a moan of pleasure and pain. No man had ever touched him like that and the ache he was feeling was becoming unbearable. He had the most dreadful fear that he was going to ejaculate with this mans hand on his treacherous loins. With one last gasp inducing squeeze, the stranger released him. The relief was so overwhelming, and as his body had finally surrendered to its baser level, he almost didn’t care what his wife had just done with this monster. Jen was cowering in the corner, her mind reverted to that of a child’s. Nothing coherent would ever leave her beautiful lips again. 

Chapter Three



'Thank you Johnny and Jen so much for your hospitality. I do hope the rest of the islanders are just as obliging. Ill be seeing you!' He walked out leaving them broken beyond repair. He went down the path and out on to the main road before turning to look back. With a click of his fingers the cottage that Johnny and Jen had only lived in for a short while but had made a home, became engulfed in flames. Their blood curdling screams put a smile on his face as he headed towards the village to make more new friends.

Chapter Four 



Father Mike was in the sacristy trying to summon the words from the ether for his sermon for Sundays mass. He couldn’t concentrate. Usually mornings were his inspirational time, but today his brain was having none of it.  He kept thinking of poor Lucy Woodcock.  She was only thirty-five and diagnosed with early onset dementia. Her husband had been lost at sea only last year while fishing, leaving her with two small children to bring up alone. Hearing her tragic news had made him think. This island seemed to have more than its fair share of tragedy. His church always appeared full of sick and dying people who were looking for some kind of miracle. Or at the very least an answer as to why it was happening to them. He knew it only appeared that way, a close community, as the island was, always made it seem worse than anywhere else. As he mused on the unfairness of life, he had one of those involuntary shivers. His skin crawled as if hundreds of centipedes were running all over his body. He tried to focus but couldn’t shake a horrible sensation that something bad was happening. That something had shifted in the normal scheme of things. Shaking out of the black hole that he was allowing to swallow him, and conceding defeat, his want for a sweet cup of tea won the day. Father Mike put his sermon to one side and went out into his church. Every time he entered this sacred place, his heart surged with love. From as far back as he could remember being a priest was all he wanted to be. The sacrifices meant nothing to him. He knew many priests who struggled with their vows, especially humility, obedience and celibacy. Being humble was easy for him; he came from nothing, had nothing and always expected nothing. By taking his vows and being accepted by god, it had made him rich beyond his wildest dreams. Celibacy was never an issue for him either as his only desire was to serve his saviour. Thankfully, with his devotion to God and his constant work with his parishioners, he never had the time or the want for carnal thoughts. Obedience on the other hand was a prevailing thorn in his side. Rules and regulations never sat well with him, especially if he thought it was wrong. 

He stood before Gods altar and gazed adoringly at the life size crucifixion hanging above. As if on queue, the sun shone through the stain glass windows, its multi mosaic coloured beauty dancing upon Christ’s face. He was always caught by the irony of it all. The houses of worship, Gods house, all dressed up in beautiful clothing to celebrate the brutal degradation of a man who simply wanted to spread the word of God. He blessed himself and bowed in humble submission before turning to go and make that tea. He stopped with a start when he realised that someone was sitting in one of the pews watching him.

Chapter Five



'Hello Father. I didn’t mean to startle you.' She rose and stepped into the aisle. His breath caught in his throat. He had heard the saying before about taking your breath away, but had never experienced it. He could understand it now. She moved closer to him, as if gliding on ice. A vision of incredible beauty, it was hard to imagine how God could improve on such perfection. Auburn hair reaching to her waist shimmered in the sun shinning through the windows.  Her feline eyes were smouldering with an emotion that he couldn’t fathom. He couldn’t take his eyes of her as she drew closer.

'Do I know you?' he finally managed to ask.

'No Father, I don’t believe you do. I’m just visiting the Island. Enjoying the sights and savouring the local cuisine.' She held her hand out, and almost purring with sensuality said,

'Father, my name is Evelyn, and very happy to make your acquaintance.' 

'Hello Evelyn, I- I- I’m Mike and it’s a pleasure to meet you,' holding on to her hand a little longer than was appropriate.

'Father Mike, that’s a good strong masculine name. It suits you' Evelyn flirted with him.

'Please call me Mike.'

'Alright I will. Mike,' and as she withdrew her hand she slid a long painted nail along the inside of the palm of his hand.  He had never had a more sensual gesture done to him.  So gentle but so erotic.

'Well Mike, I must be going. I look forward to seeing you again very soon.'

'Oh yes, right, anytime. I’m always available. Please feel free to come and visit anytime,' he replied like a dazed and goofy idiot.  As Evelyn walked from the church, he slumped in to a pew, his legs no longer receiving messages from his brain. 

Chapter Six



Stephen berated himself as he hung up. Not much point having a mobile phone if it’s left stationary in the kitchen, but it needed charging. Anyway, time wasn’t going to make much difference to those poor souls. The coast guard were on their way from the mainland with the relevant authorities. He threw back a couple of large Jameson’s to steady the nerves and wondered what a boat that size was doing on that side of the island. The rocks skulking under the waves made that side treacherous, and unapproachable. Many fishermen had perished on those rocks over the years and now it was common knowledge that was a no go area.

Stephen had lived on the island now for over two years. His parents were born here, but he had been born and raised on the mainland. Following in his fathers footsteps he had become a carpenter, and a good one, even if he did say so himself. Having made a very good living for himself, he had been able to retire at the ripe young age of forty-five. His parents had passed a few years before so he returned to the old homestead to restore the family 'mansion.'  He had started with a dilapidated two up two down detached cottage, and in two years transformed it into an impressive modern retreat. With wooden decking surrounding the property, he could stand out on his bedroom balcony and watch the sun rise with his morning French roast, and in the evenings sit on the old fashioned porch swing feeling very sophisticated with a gin & tonic and an almost Cuban cigar and watch as the sun set on another perfect day. This project had been a labour of love, his only regret that his parents were not around to enjoy it. He knew that memories were seductive but he wanted so much to make his parents proud and to relive his wonderful childhood.

They would vacation here in the summers, coming over on the ferry that had seen better days. He would take his best friends Foxy and Spider and explore the island from top to tip. Foxy was a black collie they had rescued from a shelter and Spider they had found cowering in the hedgerow, terrified and starving, obviously having run away from an abusive son of a bitch. His parents would call them their three boys. Spider was of unknown age when they found him, or should I say when

He found us, died nine very happy years later from a heart attack. Foxy lived for an amazing eighteen and a half years before we had to let him sleep the sleep of the very just. He loved those dogs. The three desperadoes were how he liked to call them.

Ok, so they never came across any international drug cartels or pirates smuggling gold bullion or Nazis retrieving paintings and jewels stolen during the war, but they loved the thought at the start of each day that absolutely anything could happen. His was a very active imagination and it was funny how he turned into a boring old carpenter, but as he looked around his beautiful retreat he thought, even the most famous carpenter of all time would be impressed.

Pulling himself out of his reverie, which he knew was a temporary escape for his mind and feeling unsettled and unable to shake the terrible images from his minds eye, Stephen decided to head to town and meet up with his mate while waiting for the rescue teams.