Till the Sun Shines Through by Anne Bennett Page B

me to let you go?’ He grabbed her hands as he spoke and forced them down the front of his trousers. Bridie felt the nausea rising in her throat and she prayed silently for the ordeal to stop. Oh Jesus Christ help me!
    â€˜Please, Uncle Francis, stop this now!’ she cried, somehow managing to pull her hands free. ‘For pity’s sake.’
    â€˜Ah, pity’s sake,’ Francis said. ‘What about the pity of an uncle who cannot get you out of my mind?’
    â€˜No! No!’ Bridie shrieked and tried to twist from Francis again. For a few moments, they swayed together as Francis fought to still Bridie’s mouth with a kiss without losing his tight hold. Suddenly, Bridie gave an almighty heave, hoping to take Francis unawares and break free. But Francis held on as they both overbalanced and they went crashing down on to the leaf-strewn mossy ground.
    For a few moments, Bridie lay stunned, and then she became aware of the twigs and tree roots sticking into her, pressed down as she was by Francis who lay on top of her, kneading her breasts and then rolling her nipples roughly between his fingers.
    Her mouth was free and although she was screaming inside, she couldn’t seem to form the sound. The kneading stopped and Francis fastened his mouth around one of Bridie’s nipples, biting and nuzzling, while his hands went beneath her underskirts, pulling at her bloomers.
    â€˜Oh, Dear God, no,’ she cried. ‘Uncle Francis, please, please leave me alone.’
    It was if she’d not spoken and as she wriggled and writhed and struggled beneath him, she felt his fingers inside her and let out a cry of agony. Immediately a hand was across her mouth. ‘Shut up, you silly bitch,’ her uncle said. ‘You’ll enjoy this if you let yourself and though I’ve no desire to hurt you, if you make any noise, I’ll knock you senseless. Do you understand?’
    Oh God, she understood all right. She lay transfixed with abject fear for she knew he meant every word. This man, with the wild eyes and slack lips, was a stranger, not the uncle she’d loved near all her life. Tears streamed from her eyes as terror engulfed her.
    â€˜After this you’ll be begging for it,’ Francis said.
    Oh dear sweet Jesus, please don’t let this happen to me, Bridie prayed silently, even as she saw Francis unzip his trousers. Let someone come. Let something happen to stop this.
    But nobody came. There was only Francis’s voice, telling her to lie back and enjoy it, for by God he was going to, and assuring her he’d never hurt her, not in all the world. And then she knew he spoke lies for pain, such as she’d never felt in all her life, shot through her as Francis entered her and she groaned in sheer agony and despair.
    It seemed to last for ever, an eternity, but eventually Francis stopped his panting and pulsating and let out a cry of triumph. He slumped across Bridie. She lay still, terrified to move in case she should rouse him in some way. Every part of her body ached and she wanted to die. For such a thing to happen to her … Oh dear God, what should she do? What could she do? She felt defiled and utterly dirty, filthy and so bitterly ashamed.
    She didn’t know how much longer it was before Francis came to. He stumbled to his feet, shaking his head in a bemused way as if he didn’t know how he’d got to be there. In the moonlight dancing through the orange and brown leaves he saw Bridie, lying on the ground. The bodice of her dress was nearly ripped off, her underclothes pushed up to her waist and her lace bloomers to the side of her.
    He zipped his trousers up and wondered why Bridie made no move to cover herself. ‘You all right?’ he asked.
    Bridie wondered if she’d ever be all right again. She made no answer and Francis became uncomfortable. ‘We’ll say nothing about this,’ he said. ‘I wouldn’t like your