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by
Barbara Mackintosh
It was very nearly midnight when Horinda left Peter's house
for the walk home, across the fields, around by the edge of Foxley
wood to the next village. It was not a journey to be recommended
in the black of night, unless one knew the path well, & with
the rain falling this was a dark night indeed. Still, Horinda
had been brought up in these parts, she had played in these very
same fields & woods as a child, & wearing her trusty
mac & sturdy wellingtons, she could see no special danger
as she set out. Peter kissed her on the cheek, wished her good
night & asked her once more if she would be okay. "Yes
of course! Don't worry", replied Horinda dismissively, "I'll
be fine". "If you're sure, I could always walk with
you". "But you would only have to come back on your
own, I'll be okay". She returned his kiss. "Good night
Peter" she smiled at him, "& don't worry!"
He watched her put up the close fitting hood of her rubberised
cotton mac, the steady rain already beginning to darken the dusky
pink material around her shoulders. Seeing Horinda like this,
standing in the rain in that marvellous mackintosh, double breasted,
traditional trench style, the effect on him was always the same,
it made him tingle, it made him shudder, he felt very protective
towards her & she knew it. Horinda caught the glint in his
eye, she smiled. Having tied the hood under her chin, Horinda
pulled on her rubber gloves, turned, & walked the few yards
to the gate. There, she half turned, waved & wished Peter
one last good night, she closed the gate behind her, began walking,
& was very soon out of his sight. Horinda walked along the
main village street, reached the gap between the two end houses,
& turned to follow the public foot path to the village of
Harendon. She climbed over the style, difficult in her stiff
shiny wellingtons, taking care not to snag the full skirt of
her mac on the uprights, & not to slip on the wet wooden
step. Soon she was up over the ridge, out of sight of the houses
& away from the village lights. The first hundred yards or
so of the path were easy as it followed the course of the dry
stone wall.
Horinda walked along the main village street, reached the
gap between the two end houses, & turned to follow the public
foot path to the village of Harendon. She climbed over the style,
difficult in her stiff shiny wellingtons, taking care not to
snag the full skirt of her mac on the uprights, & not to
slip on the wet wooden step. Soon she was up over the ridge,
out of sight of the houses & away from the village lights.
The first hundred yards or so of the path were easy as it followed
the course of the dry stone wall. Horinda walked briskly, the
clop, clop of her wellingtons, the sort of sucking sound in the
soft earth was having it's effect on her already, she loved that
sound, it thrilled & excited her. Then there was the swish
of her rubberised mac, that crackling sound. At times she would
use exaggerated body movements as she walked to bring out the
full audio effects, the flapping, the swishing. Cool, dry, smooth
rubber kissed her legs in passing, below the short, paper thin
summer frock, the only thing that she was wearing beneath the
mac. Peter himself had noticed & remarked that she was not
wearing a bra, she had confirmed, no underwear at all. Peter,
knowing her as he did, had guessed why, she would want to enjoy
the full effect of her mac on the way home. As the path curved
away from the wall the rain began to come down a little harder,
she was going to enjoy this she thought. A little while later
there was that first flash of lightning, a blue flickering across
the sky that for a moment showed her the path clearly. There
was a long pause, then a distant roll of thunder, not loud, just
a grumbling. Horinda, without even realising it pulled her hood
forward, it was already well forward covering her hair, it was
just a subconscious comforting reaction really. She was not exactly
scared of the thunder & lightning, but then again, she was
not too fond of it either, her pace quickened.
A breeze was beginning to pick up, more rain, the popping
sound on her hood & shoulders, the sharp spattering sound
down her front was getting louder. The rubber on her arms was
damp, feeling colder as the outer cotton became wetter. She remembered
with a thrill the feeling of stone cold rubber through the thin
floral dress when she had put the mac on in Peter's house, the
thin dress had not been able to hold back the cold at all, lovely!
Shivery! Now there was the squelching beneath her rubber boots,
the clinking as she walked through puddles, the occasional grit
from a rocky outcrop that would sometimes cause a slight stumble.
The truth was that in such total darkness she found herself not
nearly so sure of the path as she had lead Peter to think, or
as she had allowed herself to believe, now, just the first pangs
of apprehension were entering Horinda's mind, she thrust her
hands a little deeper into the pockets, the rubber lining against
her rubber gloves, nice, protecting, comforting. There was another
flash, lines zig zaged across the blackness, the time delay to
the thunder was shorter, the storm was getting closer, the rain
grew heavier the wind a little stronger. Horinda stopped briefly.
She pulled her belt one hole tighter, adjusted her wrist straps
until they were as tight as she could make them, she undid her
hood, pulled it forward again, pulled the draw string much tighter
than before & retied it. It was obvious to her that she needed
to be well battened down, this was going to be a real storm.
She put her hands back in her pockets & walked on, trembling
with excitement, with apprehension. She crossed the bridge over
Hindle's brook, a little relieved to find herself still on the
right path. She heard the water below, normally not much more
than a trickle during these summer months, tonight the water
rattled over the stones in the bed, there must have been a lot
of rain upstream she thought, the direction the storm was now
coming from. Inside the upper part of her mac, the thin dress,
damp with perspiration was clinging to her body, now, with the
wind getting stronger & the outer cotton soaking wet, this
perspiration began to strike chill through her, shivery, but
in a nice thrilling sort of way. She put her arms around her
body, as if to hug herself, she felt cold rubber through her
thin damp dress, lovely, loving, beautiful! Horinda's mind was
racing, all sorts of thoughts rushing through, very much a mixture
of excitement & fear. She was out in her beloved mac in the
now pouring rain, that was exciting, she loved it. It was really
dark & the path was proving more difficult to follow than
she had anticipated, that was causing her some anxiety. Then
there was the thunder storm, it was showing every sign of brewing
up to become really a bad one with dangerous fork lightening,
that was her main fear. If she could not get home before the
storm reached it's height then she might be caught out in the
open on the high ridge above Harendon, the very thought struck
terror through her. She tugged her hood again, seeking the comforting
protection of her rubber. Soon she would reach the woods, skirting
around the edge to the place where the paths for Harendon &
Fernley diverged, further on there would be another footbridge,
this time across the small river that ran down from Fernley,
then up over the ridge, down the other side & home. Home,
thought Horinda, she was probably not even half way there yet.
The thunder was getting louder, the lightning & the sound
closer together, the storm was much nearer, the wind was really
whipping up. Suddenly the heavens opened, the rain had been pouring
down for sometime, but this was something else, this was absolutely
torrential, sheets of driving rain carried on the vicious wind
were thrown at Horinda one after the other forming an almost
continuous wall of water. It threatened to tear back her mac
hood, she was forced to hold it in place with both hands, she
couldn't see, she leaned forward, bending down into the wind.
All this & the uneven path were making it difficult just
to stay on her feet. The path at last reached the woods, for
a moment she even contemplated taking shelter there, but common
sense said that with this lightning around standing under a tree
was the last thing she should be doing, she must go on. The wind
tugged at her mac, she was still holding onto the hood, the rain
driving into her face, the skirt of the mac lashed at her legs,
cold wet rubber flapping violently about her. Her legs above
the wellingtons were streaming wet, her thin summer frock completely
drenched, the wet rubber wiped her across the legs with such
force as to be painful, stinging. Still holding onto her hood
with one hand, with the other she tried in vain to hold down
the skirt of her mac, again it flailed madly out of her grasp.
Far from being afraid for herself, in fact the opposite was true,
she was excitedly enjoying herself, she was afraid for, believe
it or not, her mac, her old & trusty mac, her friend through
thick & thin, please don't let my darling rubber mac be torn
she prayed, tears welling up. The path seemed to go on forever,
still she had not yet reached the point where the path to Fernley
parted. The path was dropping down the hillside, keeping her
feet was difficult, once or twice she slipped & very nearly
fell. Still the torrential rain thrashed her, driving into her
in the high wind, the thunder let rip another loud crack overhead.
She must be getting near to the bridge over the river by now.
She was cold, she was wet through, the wind had driven the rain
into her face & past her hood, the water soaking her frock
inside, not even her beloved rubber mac could keep out such weather.
Inside her wet dress clung to her chilled body, her breasts,
cocooned in wet cold cotton & rubber were excited, it was
as if they were mocking the cold rain, refusing to be quelled,
they were pushing out the rubber bravely. Inside, deep down there
was one warm spot, surrounded by the endless darkness, the cold,
the wet, there was one warm spot, it felt so nice, comforting,
exciting, she held on to that one warm spot. Horinda felt that
she must be getting near to the river bridge, but where was the
junction in the path? The wind seemed to ease very slightly,
but still the rain came in great roaring sheets, clattering over
her. More lightning, for one or two seconds everywhere was lit
up brightly. It was then that the full horror hit her, a devastating
blow. In that second or two of bright light all around her, the
scenery had meant nothing, she did not recognise it, she did
not know where she was, she was lost! Horinda could feel panic
welling up inside her. She was on the wrong path, she must have
missed the junction in all that blinding rain. Another jagged
line of light flashed through the darkness & down to earth,
striking somewhere high on the hillside. In the light she saw
the river, but no bridge.
She had an idea of which direction to take, she reasoned that
she had to cross the river, she might as well cross here. If
she could get across here, then climb the hill, she might with
luck see the village, or at least recognise where she was. At
this time of year the river was often almost dried up & not
even worthy of being called a river, but not tonight. Illuminated
by each flash of lightening she tried to judge the depth of the
fast flowing water, a foot maybe, but then again it might be
two feet deep, or more, far more, & Horinda couldn't even
swim. Slowly, bravely, knowing that she was taking her life into
her own hands, she gingerly headed into the water, first one
foot then the other. She felt the cold fast flowing water squeezing
the rubber around her ankles. Further in she went, holding out
her arms for balance, like a tight rope walker, the water rising.
She was not even half way across yet, there was another bright
flash, crazy lines zipped across the sky & down to earth.
Still the rain beat down on her mac, the cotton long since totally
saturated. The water was now pressing the rubber around her calves,
gripping her legs tightly, it was up to the hem of the mac. Inch
by inch she waded further in, slowly, the water now near to the
tops of her wellingtons. Horinda let out a cry, a gasp, her breath
was taken away, the water flooded over & filled her left
wellington followed a second or two later by the right one.
If the wind & rain had seemed cold, then that was as nothing
compared with what the poor girl felt now. Her feet & legs
were now in ice water, she was freezing, shivering with the intense
cold. Horinda just stood there, shaking. Water everywhere, in
her wellingtons, up to her thighs, & still tumbling out of
the sky unabated. She must go on, or she would die of exposure
just standing here thought Horinda, her breathing began to return,
short & snatched, erratic. Slowly she edged still further
towards the middle of the river, trying to keep her balance in
the fast flowing water, there were lots of stones in the river
bed making it difficult, then, she tripped on just such a stone,
down she went. Down on her knees, then her body dipped beneath
the water, only at the last moment did she get her hands down
in front of her, stopping her fall, just managing to prevent
her head from going under as well. Horinda's breathing which
had just been returning was snatched away from her again. It
was as if she had been thumped hard in the stomach, she was winded,
she couldn't breath, when she tried it was painful. She felt
the air being pushed out past her collar as the freezing torrent
of water burbled & flooded up inside her mac. It was unbelievably
cold, she was on her hands & knees up to her neck in the
middle of the fast flowing icy cold river, trying desperately
to hold her head back to avoid going completely under, the water
lapping at her chin. Her mouth was wide open but the poor girl
could not breath. The cold was paralysing, she was shaking again,
vibrating, she could not stop, the water was flowing straight
through her mac. She could feel her breasts floating inside the
thin dress in their water filled rubber prison, a most peculiar
feeling, her small nipples, hard, defiant, trapped inside the
mac, passing on sensation after sensation. The flowing river
washer the the skirt of her mac up between her legs, cold wet
rubber flapping between her legs, silly really thought Horinda
for an instant, but it thrilled her, excited her, she felt in
a way, wonderful, despite the impending danger of drowning. For
a fleeting moment the thought flashed through her mind that it
would be so easy to let go, feeling wonderful, she only had to
relax her arms, the water would close in over her hood, so simple,
so easy, was this how life ebbed away?
No! No! Mentally she shook herself, steeled herself to go
on. Horinda tried to regain her feet but she could not move.
She just had to stay there, waiting for her breathing & some
strength to return. She was looking up, the rain fell on her
face, again the lightning flashed, again the thunder crashed.
She tried again to move, the desperation somehow gave her strength,
strength that she thought had all gone, slowly she sat back on
her heels, still shaking, still up to her waist in the bitterly
cold water. The sleeves & the upper part of her mac were
still full of water, the tight wrist straps & belt around
her waist reluctant to let it drain away. As she tried with every
last ounce of her failing strength to rise to her feet she felt
the full weight of the that water, almost pulling her down again,
then slowly it escaped. Slowly she edged towards the bank, still
shaking, still freezing, she could not feel her legs, but the
water was less deep now. At last she reached the edge, gained
a foot hold in the mud. Horinda was out of the river, not a moment
to soon, her body was becoming numb, all sensation had been leaving
her. She must go on she thought, desperation drove her on, she
must get out of this storm, the lightning was getting worse,
in a short time from now it would be overhead, at it's worst
& she was still not sure where she was exactly. Horinda climbed
away from the river, staggering, hardly able to walk on legs
that felt like wooden stumps, there was not even a path to follow,
her wellingtons were still full of water, she must empty them,
but she would never get them of, if she did she might not get
them back on again, her feet were numb with the cold. She sat
down in the wet grass, lifted her feet into the air, it was not
easy with the weight of water in the boots, she was also very
weak now. The water cascaded out. "Onward, you must get
on", her brain was saying to her over & over. It seemed
forever before she got to the top of the hill, the rain was still
frenzied, wiped up on the wind.
Horinda had never been so happy to see the flickering lights
of Harendon below & to the right. She was some distance from
her intended path, but at least she new where she was. Her relief
however was short lived. When the crazy lines of lightning flashed
the thunder growled instantly, the storm was over her head, her
worst nightmare was happening. Horinda knew enough about physics
to know that wearing rubber, particularly rubber boots, would
help to protect her against being struck by lightning. At the
same time she knew that all her rubber wear was very wet &
that was not so good, besides how thick did the rubber soles
of her wellingtons need to be? One thing was for sure, out here
in the open on the top of Harendon ridge, she was the tallest
thing around. There was another flash, bright blue light fizzed
around her, instantly the thunder crashed. She felt her skin
prickle, was that warmth she felt through her mac? Surely not,
the rain was still cold & torrential. The awful truth dawned,
she had very nearly been struck, she must get down, there was
no point standing here acting like a lightning conductor. Without
another moments thought she hurled herself to the ground, she
lay flat, face down in the mud. Instantly there was another flash,
more sharp lines of light across the angry sky. She had not flung
herself to the ground a moment too soon, again she felt that
sharp prickle, the shorter hairs on her head were trying to stand
up under her hood. The thunder, so loud, crashed & seemed
to bounce along the ground, still the rain howled down in buckets.
Was she ever going to get out of this? she asked herself choking
back tears that were welling up in her eyes. Horinda lay there
not daring to move, not even to lift her head for fear of being
struck by the vicious lightening. Every time there was a flash
Horinda felt the effect on her skin. She felt more wet than she
had ever thought possible, the front of her mac & her face
too were caked with wet sticky mud, from lying face down on this
bogey wet ground, but she had to stay here, for now at least.
The back of her mac, face up to the sky was washed clean by the
intense rain, the dark pink cotton saturated, but still the thin
rubber held the water at bay, totally in vain now of course,
with what she had been through she was as wet on the inside as
she was out, her thin dress inside her rubberised mac, soaked
& clinging to her. Horinda thought that she had never felt
more intense cold either, & certainly she had never felt
more scared in her life. Was it that fear, that terror that gripped
her, was it that that now brought about the most unexpected change
in her. Lying there, face down, helpless, out of all that wet,
all that cold, the fear, that warm spot deep inside was spreading.
Captured, a prisoner of the storm, helpless in her mac, the thin
wet dress clinging, touching all her most intimate places, held
closely in her thin wet rubber, squeaking & squelching, it
was all making her feel warm. Suddenly she felt so lovely, nasty
somehow turning to nice, wave upon wave of beautiful warmth overtook
her. She rolled on to her back, her face to the heavens, her
mouth wide open, drinking in the cool rain, washing her mud streaked
face. This was the ultimate example of what she craved. Fear
turned to happiness, cold turned to flames searing through her
body, she ran her rubber gloved hands over the wet cotton, the
wet rubber mac moved against her, her hands moved down below,
oh! Oh...! A long breath was expelled, her eyes rolled back in
her head, the lightning flashed across the sky, the thunder crashed
as one, the fire erupted, spontaneous combustion, Horinda was
consumed.
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