A Daughter’s Secret. Anne Bennett
to. It would not help them if you were dead or crippled, and I know you would be one or the other if we stopped here one moment longer than necessary.’
He knew she was right. He was also well aware that the girl would name him as the father, because if she wouldn’t tell willingly, her father was the sort to beat it out of her. Then he and the son would have come for him. Fear had crawled all through McAllister at that thought. His salvation, in the shape of a grocery shop in a remote part of Ireland, hadn’t come a moment too soon.
‘I appreciate it,’ McAllister had said to his wife. ‘And I’m sorry.’
‘You’re always sorry,’ Philomena had replied scathingly. ‘And in the end it makes no odds. But I am telling you now, Bernie, I know that that girl was not the first, but she will be the last, for if this ever happens again, that will be the finish of us.’
‘It won’t, I promise.’
‘You’ve promised more times than I have had hot dinners,’ Philomena snapped, ‘but this time think on, because I mean it. Keep your hands to yourself and your prick in your trousers, and we will get along well enough.’
Philomena had meant every word. He remembered that she had kicked up shocking when he had suggested the dancing and music lessons.
‘They have no one to teach them,’ he had told her. ‘Surely you are not for them forgetting their heritage.’
‘It may surprise you to learn that we have a business to run, Bernie McAllister,’ Philomena had said. ‘If you have time and energy enough for this, then I suggest those energies would be better employed the other side of the counter.’
‘It would stifle me, woman,’ McAllister had protested. ‘A man has to have some outlet.’
‘Are you sure you are not up to your old tricks?’
‘For God’s sake, woman, are you crazy or what? Don’t you think I’ve learned my lesson this time?’
‘I certainly hope so.’
‘Look, I teach the music at the children’s own homes and the dances at the church hall in a group.’
‘Well, yes, I know,’ Philomena conceded.
‘Then trust me.’
And Philomena tried. She knew that Bernie was no model husband. He said the grocery shop bored him, and certainly he was seldom seen behind the counter. He also drank far too much, but all that Philomena could put up with. As the months and then years passed she even told herself that the flight to Ireland had at last seemed to cure him of his taste for young girls, so that when he told her he was selecting two of the older and better dancers for special tuition one evening a week, she had dampened down the suspicion that arose in her. When he said to her, ‘Look, Philomena, I know how you feel, and with reason, but I promise that I will never see either of the girls alone,’ Philomena’s fears abated somewhat.
Then why hadn’t he allowed Aggie to go home that night; even sent word to the house and told her not to bother coming out? He knew why full well. The madness was coming over him again and the blood was coursing through his veins at the nearness of the girl tucked in beside him so tightly he could hear her heartbeat.
When she gave a sigh, snuggled closer and said, ‘I love being here with you like this and I am so grateful for you leaving me home,’ he knew he had lost any shred of reason that might have been attached to him. Overpowering lust had taken its place.
‘How grateful are you?’ he asked Aggie huskily, as he pulled her to a stop and turned her to face him.
She smiled as she said, ‘Lots.’
‘Grateful enough to give me a kiss?’
Aggie hesitated. ‘I’m not sure …’
‘I thought you were grateful,’ McAllister said reprovingly. ‘Fine way to show it. What harm is a kiss between two people who like each other?’
‘Nothing, I suppose,’ Aggie had to admit.
‘Well, then?’ McAllister said, opening his arms wide.
Aggie couldn’t remember the arguments for feeling it wrong to kiss McAllister, especially when she wanted to so much. She went into his arms willingly. This time, though, McAllister prised her mouth open with his tongue while his other hand fumbled underneath her shawl. Aggie was totally startled and a little afraid. She struggled, but even with one arm McAllister held her fast with ease, and the groan she gave of dismay and distaste he thought was one of pleasure.
Then the shawl fell from her shoulders and McAllister’s hand began to caress her breasts.
‘Please, please stop,’ she said when she eventually pulled her mouth away from him and struggled to free herself. ‘Let me go, Bernie. Please, for God’s sake.’
McAllister took no notice. There would be no stopping him now. His whole body was on fire to taste the delights of Aggie and he was also impatient. When he couldn’t work out how to unfasten her dress, he took hold of the neck and ripped it down the front.
Aggie felt the night air hit her bare skin. She gave a yelp of terror and tried to twist from McAllister’s arms as she cried, ‘Please, Bernie. We can’t do this, really we can’t.’ She felt the tension running all through him and she was desperately frightened. ‘What’s come over you?’
‘You, my darling girl,’ McAllister said. ‘God Almighty, you have bewitched me totally.’
‘Let me go, Bernie. Please! I am begging you,’ Aggie cried.
‘Let you go? No, my darling girl. I am going to show you a good time.’
‘I don’t want it. Really I don’t. I just want to go home.’
‘Don’t give me that,’ McAllister said almost harshly. ‘You want it as much as I do. Why else were you snuggling in so close?’
Aggie was mortified by shame. Had she brought this on herself? ‘I didn’t mean … not this … I meant it just as a friend.’
‘Don’t play the innocent with me,’ McAllister said. ‘You were ripe for it right enough. Almost begging for it, you were.’
Aggie was so frightened she had trouble drawing breath to speak, but she knew she had to make McAllister see he had made a mistake, and with a supreme effort she pulled herself away from him, panting as she faced him. ‘If I did show you that I was willing and all,’ she gasped, ‘then I am heart sorry. I didn’t mean you to think that, but I see that I probably am at fault as well, so shall we say no more about it and I will go on home by myself from here?’
‘Just who are you trying to kid?’ McAllister said. ‘You stand there half naked and say words your whole body is denying. You are so craven with desire you can barely speak.’
‘No,’ Aggie said. ‘I can’t speak because I am so feared.’
McAllister shook his head as he might at a naughty child. ‘It’s not fear you are displaying, but pure carnal lechery, which I am going to satisfy before you and I are much older.’
‘No, Bernie,’ Aggie said, backing away.
‘Ah yes, Bernie, yes,’ McAllister said. He made a grab for her, grasping her so tight she was unable to break free. ‘That is what you will be saying before the night is done.’
He pulled Aggie down to her knees, still clasped tight in his arms, and then pushed her with such force that her head hit the ground with a resounding crack. For a moment or two her senses reeled and McAllister took advantage of that. His hands shot beneath her clothes and he pulled off her knickers and stockings in one swift movement, and so roughly his fingernails scored deep scratches down her legs.
This brought Aggie to her senses and, though whimpering with fear, she began to fight like a wildcat.
‘So that is the way you want to play, is it?’