Yet if there was any chance my relationship – not to mention our planned marriage – with Rebecca might have survived, this was soon shattered by an incident which occurred a week or two later . . .
Late one evening when I hadn’t arranged to see her, Rebecca turned up at the flat unexpectedly and discovered myself and a girl called Anne (at least who I call Anne) getting ready for bed. I had first met Anne with Rebecca at a bar in Highgate and we all got on well together, often going back to Anne’s flat for coffee or a drink; although at this stage my attitude towards Anne was purely platonic.
One evening shortly afterwards, however, I’d been out on my own and walking Anne home and found myself in her bedroom listening to records and tentatively sipping wine. Going into her bedroom had not been intentional but one of her flat mates was entertaining her new boyfriend in the communal living room We weren’t talking about anything especially but suddenly I began to be aware of Anne’s figure and couldn’t help noticing her legs. She was wearing a cotton dress which had pulled up slightly where she’d positioned herself on the bed and, try as I might, it was impossible not to notice the patches of stocking-covered flesh.
I knew she was watching me and this made it worse though, at the same time, she expressed no visible sign of embarrassment and even seemed to be enjoying my uncertainty. She carried on talking quite normally but somehow her expression became ‘knowing’ and she shifted her legs with deliberate abandon as if to offer further encouragement. This may have ben no more than innocent amusement on her part but I strongly sensed it was a ‘come on’ and I moved closer on the pretext of changing a record to test her reaction. She lent over to look at the disc resting her hand on my arm for support. Our faces were no more than two or three inches apart.
Without really thinking, I kissed her gently and almost at once, felt her lips pressing back against mine. The next minute we were lying on the bed, our bodies pushed together, and I felt her hand inside my shirt slowly dragging it up over my body. Hardly aware of what was happening, or at least, far beyond the point of caring, I pulled her dress up around her waist and gently caressed her exposed thighs. She offered no resistance but sighed expectantly and clutched me tightly. She began to move deliberately and in a few minutes the powerful pent up energy exploded between us.
We laid in silence for a long time after that and her breathing gradually became steady as she fell into a light sleep.
I gazed at the ceiling feeling an unexpected feeling of guilt; not so much because of the act itself, but because it had been done knowingly- behind Rebecca’s back. Once again it seemed I had deliberately set out to hurt her; or had least, but I had still ‘gone through the motions’ in reality even though she knew nothing about it. And what a time I had chosen to give way to weakness and jeopardise our relationship. We were preparing to get married and any hint of further deceit would surely break us up completely. After all, she’d already left on suspicion of virtually the same thing and returned only in the obvious hope that I’d change and grow to love her independently. Now any ounce of trust Rebecca might have had, had been abused and I’d dismissed her feelings with as much care as a spoilt child might disregard a favourite toy. I somehow felt ‘unclean’ – although this was not Anne’s fault but entirely my own. And it was too late to make amends or even try and put the pieces back together. I was possessed by a powerful magical force that ensnared its victims through lust and sexual desire then left them to bear the fruits of their own iniquity.
And now she’d turned up unexpectedly and it seemed only a miracle could stop her leaving forever.
Strangely, she didn’t say much but remained calm and asked for a cup of coffee and spoke to Anne as if nothing had happened. Anne was acutely embarrassed and, like myself, struggled vainly to give an impression that we’d just come back for a short chat after meeting by chance in the pub. It was a losing battle but ironically, acting out such a charade in preference to telling her the real truth, seemed to be the lesser of two evils.
Suddenly, just as unexpectedly as she’d arrived, Rebecca said she had to go, and before it was possible to stop her, she uttered a polite ‘goodbye’ and disappeared from my flat. I felt like running after her, but something kept me rooted to the spot. It seemed that although relevant words had been spoken, everything had already been spoken.
So it was, she finally left. Yet much as I loved her, I knew deep inside that our parting had always been inevitable, and much as I’d struggled to maintain our love amidst the torment of Alison, – indeed even to the extent of planning to get married – Fate, as usual, had interceded to ensure a final and irrevocable decision. Although almost succeeding, I had never really stood a chance. Even though not intended to hurt her, my actions had ultimately driven her away and I’d been left to adjust to the cruel reality of my material surroundings.
It was a cold reality that almost demanded a fresh outlook to my conceptions of love, and the consequences of mingling true relationships with my magical involvements and obligations.
But I did not regret the fact that we’d shared a temporal love together. For Rebecca had taught me a lot and her love and patience had done more than simply captivate a relationship that I had thought lay beyond the bounds of feasibility. She had drawn me back to a world that I had almost forgotten – a world filled with the need for material love and stability, where such things as tangible relationships and laughing children can become an external reality.
No. I had not rejected her – but just been unable to adjust to those things that demanded satisfaction to a code of conformity and respectability. Any regrets I might have had, were really irrelevant. For as usual, I had no way of recognizing such regrets until it was too late to bring about their correction.
David
14 Responses
Gosh David–spare a maiden’s blush. Your remiscences of youthful philanderings are getting more dickipoggy each time—I’ve met fellas like you in the past! You just happened to inexplicably end up in flagrante…………….You could call it Confessions of a very naughty Vampire Hunter! or sexy Psychic investigator if you prefer, or even of a whimsical witch!
tata barbara
Hmm–try a line of dots and leave it to our imagination!
For isntance,
” he leaned over her and crushed her in his hairy manly arms. She looked to be swooning with passion from his virile muscles as suddenly mysteriously a hand appeared on her silken stockinged thigh. She gazed into his noble eyes and quivered with passion as his ruby red lips hovered tantalisingly in the air above her pert little nose.
“Ah, David, I am all yours!” she sighed rapturously as he frantically ripped off his breeks –oops sorry–mac—–and swept her up into his strong manly arms and bounded into what turned out ( by very good fortune ) the bedroom.
********************************************************
The next day etc they woke up to hear the birds singing outside the bedroom window, tweek tweek, twitter twitter, cheep cheep
Thats how we ladies deal with such hot topics! Saves our blushes!
tata barbara
Thanks for that Barbara, but how do you expect me to write it!?
I deliberately didn’t change anything as I thought that would somehow be ‘cheating’. I’m not ‘bonkers’ and have no intention of attempting to re-write history. I wrote it as it happened at the time, and I can’t change the past much as I’d like to sometimes!
Incidentally, the ‘bonky one’ never even met the person concerned (though he did try to once unsuccessfully but was chased off by her father), so I wouldn’t take too much notice of his latest personalised speculations. How do I know that? From the Bonky one himself who told me – although he didn’t realise that he was being recorded!
Well, I don’t think I have any more unpublished manuscript now. But you never know what I still might discover in my old diaries!
For now,
David
The secret is David, not to tell the reader everything—it makes it more exciting! Anyhow my apologies, I am sure you know I was having you on!
I do admire your writing, and it is at least readable which is more than you can say for Bonky’s torrid–and terrible—-tales.–Though Bonky’s yarns do have the power to make me laugh so thats one point in his favour!
Can you remember his one night stand with the girl with the emerald teeth, I bet she was livid with him–him ranting on about it being a romantic night of tempestuous passion and then seeing her off on the train the next day without so much as a bye your leave!
tata barbara
“Save your blushes”! My God, that’s far worse than I wrote, Barbara. At least I didn’t leave anything to the imagination. With your ‘poetical verse’, people could be imagining anything!
At least Cat can’t add any inneundoes to mine (although he’ll probably try).
You’ve given him a ‘carte blanche’ to probably imply things that didn’t even happen!
For now,
David
Bonky had a one night stand with a girl with emerald teeth?
I need to hear the details on this one!
Without being evasive, Cat (really), I’ll have to pass you back to Barbara on this one because I never read it. It was in an Internet serialisation called “Stray Ghosts”, but although I copied this (somewhere) I just couldn’t bring myself to read the fictional nonsense.
I read one or two paragraphs only before abandoning it as complete fiction.
So Barbara, without naming proper names, could you summarise this for Cat on his Blog? I really don’t want the nonsense here, although it is a perfectedly reasonable question!
I mean, this was published on the World-Wide Web, so in that respect, it is really a public document – even if it is all mostly fiction! (Like most of this ‘manuscript’, in fact).
Sorry Cat, but I really couldn’t bring myself to read through it, so am unable to answer that.
David
Actually cant remember any of the details, other than he blathered on about the girl with emerald eyes actually-=-I called her emerald teeth for a joke–it was essentially a one night stand but he described it, in his usual overblown flowery bad prose, as a heavenly beautous coming together of sensitve souls or summat like that then dumped her and never saw her again. Cat will have to buy the book!
tata barbara
– “Bonky also used to visit myself whilst I was in London prisons”
You mentioned this on my blog. I must ask, how many times did he visit, and what went on during these visits?
Yes, that’s correct, Cat. As far as I recall he visited me three times when I was ‘stationed’ in London in 1974. He was using the name ‘John Nolan’ (and writing to me under that name both in and after 1974) so nobody would know who he was. These visits would all be on official record – at least, I know all names and given addresses are kept.
Nothing ‘went on’ as such and conversations were private. I can’t remember everything that was discussed but basically he kept me up to date on developments at Highgate and on-going Press interest in myself in general.
My friend Elspeth was aware of these visits and even allowed him to use her surname and address as proof he was a ‘relative’ or ‘friend’. (Those really need double quotes!).
Hope this answers your question, Cat.
For now,
David
Why was a guy who thought you were a charlatan, fraud, and interloper keeping you “up to date on developments at Highgate and on-going Press interest”???
FOR CAT
I know it might sound a bit ‘crazy’, Cat, but I have answered this before (back in my “Mondo Skepto” days I believe) that, at times, over the years there was a limited degree of co-operation between us. Hence the now infamous ‘Peace Treaties’ of 1981 and 1992. This ‘co-operation’ suited myself because it obviously gave me a chance to ‘keep an eye’ on him and his on-going publicity escapades. As well as this, it gave me an excellent chance to record our conversations – which I in fact did. These conversations totally disprove any present day assertions that I am an ‘interloping charlatan’ or a publicist. Indeed, these conversations prove exactly the opposite: that these were – and are – the very things this person was most guilty of himself.
The conversations also show irrevocably that such assertions (about myself being a charlatan or a fake) really demonstrate a subconscious reflection of his own guilt: indeed, the tapes show an obsession the person had, not only with myself, but with getting publicity..
When we had a final personal meeting in January 1987 about accusations he had made about myself in his self-published on my involvement in the Highgate case, any co-operation that existed between us quickly evaporated and the person embarked upon a relentless campaign to ‘blacken my name’ and convince the world that I was really a “Satanist”. The person fully realized that this wasn’t true; but then he inwardly knows that most of the other accusations he makes against myself are not true either.
One thing that the person had over-looked (rather was unaware of) when embarking upon this decidedly most unchristian campaign, was the existence of these tapes which could prove nearly all his accusations against myself were deliberately fabricated and untrue.
The tapes all prove otherwise, which is why I have already released many of these in book form and deposited these at the six major Universities Libraries (and many other place of repute besides).
I hope this answers your question Cat.
For now,
David
For Gareth
Ive just finished reading your book “lure of the sinister” and found it really interesting.Id just like to ask you about the satanic black mass you attended (purely for research purposes of course!).What was the purpose of the naked virgin woman at the alter and the sacramenental wafer? What happened to the wafer after the ritual?x
For David
I was looking at the picture of Gareth in the stocks,although i know he enjoys such punishment cant see his face clearly any chance of zooming in a bit?
will see you very soon!
xxxxx
Think I’ll leave Gareth to answer that. It was purely for research purposes though.
I’ll try and blow Gareth up (if only!) but I’m not very good with photographs. Still I can but try. See you soon, and bring some Pepsi!
David