It was half past ten. Even if I left now I might not reach Exeter in time for the last train to London. I said so. ‘You won’t need a train,’ his wife said. ‘That car may be old but it’ll get you all the way there and back again, slowly mind, but steadily.’ ‘But it’ll need petrol and there aren’t any petrol stations open at night.’ ‘There’s an all-night one near Honiton,’ he said, ‘but you’ll need a fill before then. Got another sixpence?’ I looked in my pocket. There was a sixpence among the pennies and halfpennies. I held it out. He took it. ‘I’ll fill the petrol tank and check the oil. I’ll put some more petrol in the can in the boot just in case you run out. You shouldn’t if you drive carefully. A tankful should get you all the way home.’ ‘But that’s worth more than sixpence…’ I protested. ‘Maybe it is, but it’s nearly Christmas and you should be with your family, Geoff.’ ‘I don’t know how to thank you,’ I said. ‘Then don’t. Just repay me by being kind, when you can, to someone. The jingle of your ankle bracelet draws my eyes to your bare feet with their polished nails. At least the first three buttons of your blouse are undone and I can see the end of your “snake” necklace disappear into your bountiful cleavage. As you near the bed, I rise up to try to take you into my arms. You push me back onto the bed and tell me to just lay back and relax. As you lean over to plant a kiss on my lips, I get an even better look down your blouse and into your cleavage. The planned distraction works, as you slip the loop of a scarf around my right wrist. With that arm tied down your reach over and do the same to my left wrist. As I try to move my arms I realize you must have tied the other end to the bed frame before I awoke this morning. Now that I can’t move my hands, you sit on the bed next to me and reach for my waist. You unfasten my belt and pull down the zipper of my pants. You pull the waistband of my pants down as you tell me to raise my hips. Once my pants have.
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