School Daze and Policemans' Balls

School terms and semesters rolled by. My grades stayed high and teachers began writing notes in my books, seeming to know not to call me out in front of the other students or single me out in any way in the halls. They sensed that I was on the brink of an abyss of sorts.

The other teds around Liverpool had their hang outs or dives and many had guitars and were in bands. The places they frequented were smelly, damp and seedy but the music did call me as it held happiness in it's quick beat and, usually, love soaked lyrics. A few of the boys were at the same school and wandered around with their guitars slung over their leather clad backs, hosting little gatherings in the far corners of the school yard where prying teacher's eyes didn't see. 

Seeing a few un-named faces I knew from school I had some Dutch courage to venture towards the clubs. One, The Cavern, in the centre of Liverpool, was as dingy and dark as the rest. It had a side door for deliveries of the mountains of booze and coca- cola that was consumed in vast quantities there every time a band played. 

This was my door- left ajar I could sit in the dark and enjoy the show without the pressure of 'normal' girls looking down their powdered noses and ruby red stained lips at me or the guys pushing me calling me queer and other nasty things. Most of the bands high tailed it out of the club through that side door so most got to know 'the girly ted'. By way of body language mostly, giving a flick of the head or a wink as they dashed past and away from the hordes of young audience all wanting to hang with the 'cool musicans'.

****

The light blinded me. 

Like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car I froze as I stepped out of the alley after the last of the patrons of the Cavern tumbled home. I could hear people cooee-ing to friends, whistles and people laughing but all I could see were those damn lights and as much as I told my body to run I seemed to be in a trance.

Someone crashed into me, a young boy who should be home in bed and not haphazardly walking down the sidewalk with a beer in his hand. He crashed then tried to dash as he realised the lights were those of a police car. He was well under-age and holding an ale... The knock jolted me from my trance and I pushed the boy towards the bobbies hoping that he would stop their charge towards their intended victim- me. 

I ran, jostling and shoving through slow dawdling lovers, pushed one of the muso's, knocking his guitar case to the ground he grunted and cursed at me as I spotted a reprieve. I turned quickly and then ducked under a railing to go down some steps but as I stepped onto the third one down a hard cold hand slammed down on my shoulder

"Looky, Looky who we have here. Perhaps you would like to grace us with your presence down the station little miss".

The muso laughed and the lovers gawked at the 'apprehended girl ted' 

No one realised I was victim, not the villain. No one would, would they.

The station was up on a hill north of the main part of town. After being shoved in the back of the police car I was driven to my nights accommodation.

A light breeze swung the sign gently. The lit letters, painted royal blue, identified the LIVERPOOL POLICE STATION. 

A place usually regarded as a safe haven, a beacon of hope to the community or victims of some disturbance in the local precinct but to me it was his lair.

His last place he could keep me under lock and key. Maybe not forever, as an inspector or higher ranked officer would notice, but with a bodgy charge sheet on an offical clipboard it could be my lodging for an overnight barrage of hurt, pain and definitely, immense humiliation.

On this night though, a twist of fate was cast.
A meeting that lasted maybe an hour, maybe two but that short time coloured my grey world;
And held a door open to the future. 

He had had a busy night too, rocking the Cavern making the girlies swoon. Guzzling pints of ale afterwards with mates, toasting to their future ascent to pop stardom. But, instead of dashing out the side door and heading home, he decided that some lad had looked at him 'funny' in alley by The Grapes Inn so smashed a bottle over his head and kicked him aplenty.
As I was being dragged off, another cop had pulled up and nabbed the young muso, throwing him into the slammer after interrogations. A real charge sheet filled in.

*************

Slam! My head hit the side of the brick wall. That was the hardest so far, leaving my head spinning with dizziness and a trickle of blood oozes from the site of impact.

He laughed, no remorse here.

I had been raped as soon as I was put in Interrogation Room 2, not by step daddy no, but the cold handed constable that thought it was funny to do so. He was gross and had hairy balls. I don't know why that stood out, not like I could ID him from that! Weird how the brain works when it's on defensive alert ... 

So now Charlie was belting me for being a slut with his 'boy'. Oh the irony! I was backhanded and hit around my head then shoved onto my hands and knees.. this was a new one. Apparently, as I was now dirty, Charlie couldn't bear to look at me 'the slut', the 'dirty little whore', so went to town so to speak from another direction.

"Oh god please stop. I, I, please stop!!"

I let out a blood curdling scream through clenched teeth. I was hit around the head and bashed and shoved in the ribs with his baton for the noises I had made. I can't take this anymore.... I can't see through the blood in my eyes. And the pain was excruciating.

It didn't seem like he would ever stop.

For another 2 hours he took his pleasure, force feed me pain. I blacked out thankfully. He shoved me in a cell not on the cot but on the putrid floor. He was so annoyed I'd lost consciousness that he hadn't bothered to check the cell was empty, and just through me in.

I curled up on the floor my jacket gone, my shirt ripped, my jeans unzipped, pulled partically up my thighs. After many silent minutes on the cold floor big hands touched me. I shrank back trying to have the cold concrete swallow me safe. Groaning in pain, pushing away, trying to get as far from the unknown male as possible but those hands reached out and touched me again but this time with a murmured "Ye be alright, I ain't hurtin' ya little birdie" the Liverpudlian accent was strong.

The accent in itself didn't help calm my nerves but it did make me realise it was a young person not a cop, not a man, not Charlie. A teen... like me. 

Maybe I could relax and let the hands help.....

He grasped me around my waist pulling my pants up quickly as he went. I froze, groaned, tensed with the movement of his hands. He mumbled again "Ya alright, shoosh, luv...." He then put his other hand under my knees, quickly placing me on the cot in the corner under the barred, open window. To ally my fears, the stranger removed his hands as soon as I was lying down, to make me feel safer I suppose, and it did somewhat. He then put something over my shivering body. I didn't stop shivering with the cold night air seeping over me but slowly it helped me regain my senses. 

A sliver of light caught one side of his face, he gazed down at my black eye and blood smeared face solemnly. Using his shirt, he wiped away what he could so very gently.

The 'Winker' 

I know him.

Well I don't know him know him. He winks as he leaves the club every time I'm there at the door. I think he realises it's me too. He leans in and whispers "You're from the rear door of the Cavern Club aren't ya love?" I nod a little, my dizzy head feeling light again.

"My names John. John Lennon" he whispers, trying to put me at ease "Who did this to ya. If you're the crim... What with the state of you, I wouldn't like to see the other guy!" He smiled trying to lift the heaviness surrounding us both.

I'm shivering so much my hands are shaking. I stay mute.

"Na, I heard it alright. I know you're the victim. I heard good and clear, I was in the other interrogation room. Bloody dirty bastard pigs" He spat the last words out with so much venom I flinched.

John thought to himself 'Who does this to a young girl in a police station of all places- poor birdie'.

I looked away- he heard me.

Oh my God another person knows I'm a dirty and used. Like a mechanics rag, my body and life is disgusting. I whispered my name anyway "Roxan"

What the hell did I say that for, he doesn't need to know my name.

He laughed a little "OK, well miss Roxan, you're cold and shaking so fugging bad. I want to help you but I don't want to scare you either"

I can only look to his right over his shoulder I can't look in his eyes. I feel used and disgusting. How can anyone want to be close.

"You're cold, I.... I can help but ya have to trust that I'm not going to hurt you, alright. I'll lay down beside you, hug ya if that's ok and we will try and keep each other warm just til the morn alrigh?" John watches me steadily trying to show through that steady gaze that he will stay true to his word. I'm so cold but he IS a male.....his eyes grow big and plead with me to believe his words. To trust him.

My nod is ever so slight but he notes it quickly and crawls onto the cot which is barely wide enough for one but he manages to get his slightly bigger body on, and not too close. I stare upwards, the shadows dancing on the wall are trying to menace me. They play tricks with my head. 

He touched me! 

My body tenses and shrinks away, my mind screaming. He is 'shooshing' me again...... ok, well what do I do? he has me 'caught' with him in this cell anyway. I can't go anywhere, maybe I be very still and take what is offered. Maybe I try and trust, for once...

I'm still shaking so I make the biggest leap of faith I have ever made. I turn ever so slightly on my side wincing at my injured rib, thereby giving him more space. I manage to turn. My ugly bloodied head is so close to his I avert my half closed swollen eye and the good eye so I don't freak him out.

His breathe is warm on my cheek. I break the rule I just made and move closer to his warmth. My legs, hips, chest closing the gap to just touch.

He is so warm I can't not move closer. 

I have never ever, ever been this close to a male without him hurting me.

My heart is pounding out of my chest.

He touches my arm so gently as to not scare me then drops his arm slowly, draping it over my body to hug me warm. The tears I never let fall threaten and when I dare to look into his eyes I see light brown pools awash; offering trust, empathy, even hope for me. Tears trickle then, slivering down my face and he hugs me a little closer, wiping salty drops away with his thumb. 

Sleep beckons, and takes me away......