Brigit 04 Christmas Debt

Brigit 04 – Christmas Debt

Copyright Oggbashan November 2004/December 2017

The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

This is a work of fiction. The events described here are imaginary; the settings and characters are fictitious and are not intended to represent specific places or living persons.

Part One is 'Brigit'; Part Two is 'Brigit Too'; Part Three is ‘Brigit’s Babies’

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We climbed into bed, exhausted. We were side by side but too tired to do anything with or to each other. An excited three-year-old daughter had worn us out. In my head I regretted that I couldn’t make love to Deirdre. We hadn’t – for weeks and we were missing it. But we didn’t have the energy. Christmas with an excited small c***d had been delightful but a reminder that neither of us were young. Our daughter Brigit might be our only c***d. Deirdre was getting past the age of safe c***d bearing.

If we didn’t make love, even the remote chance of another c***d would be impossible. On Monday I would be back at work. The thought was depressing. Although I enjoyed my business, I was just too tired to have an enthusiasm left for it. Oh shit! Tomorrow we would have to remove the Christmas decorations. I would have to be up a ladder for hours taking down the external Christmas lights. Why had I used so many? I should have paid someone else to put them up and remove them. It was too late. Perhaps a night’s uninterrupted sleep would help? I didn’t know. I was just too tired to think...

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Introduction to Part Four.

I had met Brigit the Irish earth goddess. She had used me subtly first to change the lives of many oppressed and neglected women (part one) in our community and then with Deirdre to stop a refuse tip despoiling the countryside (part two). She had rewarded me both times and had brought Deirdre to me. Now we both worshipped Brigit frequently. 'Worshipping Brigit' can best be done with a man's tongue between a woman's legs. Brigit and Deirdre had made me suffer by teasing me about my inability to satisfy either of them. I had no hope of ever satisfying Brigit: no man could however fit and strong. When Brigit introduced me to Deirdre I was far from fit. A year later, after intensive training from both of them, I had become a new man sometimes capable of satisfying Deirdre – for a few hours.

Then I married Deirdre, with Brigit as bridesmaid or incognito goddess of honour, and we had a baby Brigit. The goddess Brigit, Deirdre and I helped the local midwives to save the maternity unit and encourage home births (part three).

CHRISTMAS DEBT

Our daughter Brigit had started nursery school last September. We call her Biddie to avoid confusion with the Goddess Brigit. Biddie is another version of Brigit. Deirdre had cried after she left Biddie at the door. At our ages we were unlikely to have a second c***d and this sign of Biddie’s growing up had hurt. Soon she would be going to ‘big school’ and Deirdre would be alone for much of the day. I hoped to retire soon but the goddess Brigit kept finding projects to keep me and us busy. The goddess is immortal. I was feeling distinctly mortal. Even Deirdre had noticed that our lovemaking had become less energetic. Over Christmas we had stopped any bedroom activities. All we needed was sleep, lots of sleep...

It was Twelfth Night. I had removed and stored the Christmas lights. We had taken the Christmas decorations down in the afternoon. Biddie was in bed, tired out from ‘helping’. Deirdre and I stood on our veranda with glasses of Irish Coffee, looking out over the valley to the lights of the nearest village. We were warmly dressed because there was a frost in the air. We both felt rather sad and very tired. Christmas was over; tomorrow Biddie would be back at Nursery school. Our normal routine would start again.

“Have you got a drink for me?”

We turned around, startled. Brigit came out through the French windows. She was in the form she usually wore, like the sister my first wife, Mary, had never had. She was still wearing a long blue dress. This time it was covered with a white fur-trimmed cloak, the hood framing her head of red-gold curls. I was instantly erect. Brigit always has that effect on me. Even disguised as Mary’s sister, Brigit was the embodiment of all the desirable women I could imagine. Deirdre’s hand grabbed mine. She knew the effect Brigit had on me, but I was Deirdre’s.

Deirdre needn’t have worried. Brigit had never harmed either of us. We had helped her do things for our community and Brigit always repaid us well for our work. Without the goddess Brigit, Deirdre and I would never have met and we wouldn’t have a little Brigit to cherish.

“Well?” Brigit smiled at us. “Do I get a drink or not?”

“Of course you do,” I replied. “You are always welcome in our house.”

I tried to brush past her to go to get the drink. Brigit caught my arm, spun me round and kissed me full on the lips. I staggered, not from the physical move, but from the passion in that kiss. Brigit’s arm circled my waist and hugged. She beckoned to Deirdre who joined us. Brigit kissed Deirdre as hard as she’d kissed me. Her other arm hugged Deirdre.

“Don’t bother, Raymond,” Brigit said, “I’ve brought drinks for all of us.”

She pointed to the table just inside the room. There were three Irish Coffees. We went inside together. I shut the French windows behind us as Deirdre and Brigit shed their outer layers of clothing. Brigit’s hand waved at me. My coat had gone. It would have reappeared neatly hung in the hall cupboard.

Brigit took our hands and led us to the new settee that had replaced the well-worn one that had seen so much lovemaking between the three of us.

She pushed me down onto the settee. She sat on one of my legs. Deirdre sat on the other. We sipped the Irish Coffee and I felt the familiar enjoyable sensation of drinking some of Brigit’s breast milk. As always it made me feel wholly alive and wonderfully relaxed. I knew that Deirdre had the same experience.

“You two haven’t worshipped me for some time,” Brigit said with a smile that took the sting out of the accusation. She held up her hand to forestall our excuses.

“Never mind,” she continued, “I’ll make sure you make up for your omission later on. Christmas is over…”

I couldn’t stop myself blurting out:

“What has Christmas to do with you, Brigit? You’re a pagan goddess!”

She smiled again, the sort of smile that a mother gives a c***d who has said something stupid but endearing.

“Christmas may not mean much to me, Raymond. As you say, I am a pagan goddess. Some would deny me a soul or call me a demoness. I have a soul: you know I have. As for a demoness: I have some powers but I use them for good most of the time. An enlightened Christian might describe me as a fallen angel who will be redeemed at the Last Trump. That might be right. I don’t feel fallen. I am an earth goddess concerned with the here and now and not the hereafter. I am no threat to believing Christians. Worshipping me and worshipping God is not necessarily incompatible. The theologists have different words to describe types of worship. I demand physical acts as worship. God asks for something very different and even He doesn’t demand everything. ‘Render unto Caesar’ didn’t Jesus say? On this world I am a kind of Caesar. Like Caesar I have no power in the next world even if his followers thought they could deify him after his death. Like Caesar had: I have power in this world.”

Brigit stopped to sip her Irish coffee.

“That is really an aside, an explanation if you like. You can never wholly understand me. This time I was thinking of Christmas not as it affects me but how it affects my people, those little people who are at the mercy of the authorities, the impersonal multi-nationals, the banks and financial institutions. Christmas to them often means distress in January. For a few days of enjoyment they mortgage their future and they pay for it. How they pay…”

I could hear the pain as Brigit repeated ‘pay’.

“What do you want us to do?” I asked. I knew Brigit was working up to asking us to help her again. My heart sank. Was I, were we, still capable of doing all we could to help Brigit? I wasn’t getting any younger. I was fit, fitter than I had been for years before I met Brigit and then Deirdre, but I was too well aware of the years I was carrying. Biddie was a delight yet her arrival had made me feel too old to cope. How old would I be when she became an adult? It didn’t seem an attractive prospect.

Brigit looked at me, sadly. She could read my thoughts. Then she acted.

I found myself lying prone on our large double bed completely naked. Brigit was naked beside me, propped against the bed head. Deirdre was lying on the other side of Brigit. Brigit reached out her arms and pulled each of us against one of her breasts. We instinctively suckled. Brigit’s breast milk was and is wonderful. It revitalises us like nothing else. Neither Deirdre nor I had had a cold or even a snuffle since we first drank Brigit’s milk. As I felt it trickling into my mouth the years fell away, the sadness left me, to be replaced with a calm knowledge that I was loved, protected and nurtured by a goddess. My confidence in my own abilities returned. With Brigit’s help almost anything might be possible.

Brigit’s thought sounded clearly in my head. ‘You should worship me more often, Raymond. That would stop you feeling as bad as you have.’

Then she issued an order. ‘Worship me – Now!’

I moved from her breast to her pussy. I extended my tongue and began to lick slowly. I sensed Brigit changing position until her pussy was directly above my face. My tongue tried to keep up. I couldn’t reach until her body slowly lowered her pussy to my lips. Deirdre straddled my hips. Her hand guided my erection into her warm dampness. My last view before Brigit’s body covered my eyes was the two of them wrapped in a passionate kiss. I had to concentrate my efforts. I had difficulty breathing until they started a seesaw movement. Deirdre thrust down on my hips; Brigit lifted to grant me a short gasp of air; Brigit squashed her pussy over me as Deirdre lifted. The movement was slow and measured. I knew from past encounters that they could keep it going for hours. Could I?

I sent a thought of appeal to Brigit. Would she help me, please? A reassuring answer came. She would prolong me as long as necessary. I would have sighed with pleasure except her pussy silenced the sigh.

I don’t know how long we continued. I was aware of Deirdre reaching several orgasms above me. Brigit’s pussy became warmer and more demanding above me. She shuddered several times and then there was a short instant of cool air above me. I gulped a few breaths before Deirdre’s wet pussy claimed my face and Brigit engulfed my long-lasting erection. Soon after that I erupted into the goddess’s body and relaxed into a half-conscious state as they continued to seesaw on me.

I woke briefly to find that Brigit alongside me with her breast in my mouth. Her milk was dribbling down my throat. Deirdre’s body was pressed against my back. She was asleep. I looked up at Brigit’s face. She smiled at me: the smile almost of a mother pleased with her son. Her hand stroked my forehead and I too went to sleep.

The next morning I was alone in the bed. I felt more relaxed and rested than I had been for a long time. I jumped out of bed, shaved, washed and dressed. The morning seemed glorious despite the sleet lashing at the windows. I followed the scent of breakfast to the kitchen. As I opened the door the smell of cooking seemed heavenly. I sat down at the kitchen table savouring the sensations in my nose. Brigit put a full English breakfast in front of me. I opened my eyes wide at the size of it.

‘But…’

You’re off your diet this morning Raymond,” she said. ‘You need energy more than a diet. You exercised a lot last night. Did you enjoy it?”

“Yes.”

“Then enjoy breakfast as well. You might need some strength later on today.”

I ate that breakfast as if it was the best I had ever had. It tasted that good. Every part of it was perfect. Deirdre stood behind me as I was finishing. Her breasts pressed either side of my head. I leaned back against her. If I were a cat I’d have been purring.

Brigit sat down opposite me and pushed two cups of coffee towards us.

“Drink up,” she ordered, “then I’ll tell you what I want from you.”

I had a momentary flash of anxiety that I would have to pay for last night and this breakfast. Feeling Deirdre’s breasts still cradling my head made that anxiety disappear. Together we could do, and had done, a lot for the community with Brigit’s guidance.

Brigit was worried that her people, who usually meant the women of the community, had done too much at Christmas to provide for their c***dren. Many of them faced months of worry about debt incurred for Christmas, debt that they would struggle to repay. In the past the Citizens Advice Bureau would have helped. They were now underfunded and overstretched. They couldn’t deliver the services they used to do and many people were deterred by a fortnight’s wait for an appointment when they were getting daily phone calls from debt collectors. That was bad enough. The debt consolidation sales people were worse. They made a poor situation desperate by offering ‘debt holidays’ followed by exorbitant rates of interest. Once in their hands a three-figure debt could soon become four figures and then impossible to repay.

What Brigit wanted us to do was to set up a fast-track debt management advice centre until we could arrange that the local Citizens Advice Bureau was properly funded. We would be fighting a war against the loan sharks, legal and i*****l. Once we had done that…

“There’s more?” I asked, daunted by the task Brigit had already set us.

“Yes.” Brigit replied. “I want you to set up a Christmas club so that next year some of the people have money available without borrowing. And…”

Deirdre’s hand stopped my next protest.

“…I want another swap club set up so that the women can resist the demands of the consumer society, to stop them buying things like expensive trainers their c***dren will grow out of before their parents have finished paying for them. They should barter toys and clothes with each other so they get value for their hard-earned money and… Oh, a lot more…”

I could see that Brigit was really unhappy about the sufferings of her people. I reached out a hand across the table. She grabbed it and squeezed. I squeezed back.

“Thank you, Raymond. I needed a hand. So will you. Many of them. You will have allies. The first is the woman you knew as ‘Brigit’.”

“She’s not Brigit?” I was startled.

“She isn’t. Her first name is Bronwen. I asked her to answer to Brigit as a password so that she would know that you were from me. You know her full name. You entered it on enough forms to remember it.”

“Yes. I thought that she never used ‘Bronwen’. I called her Brigit for months and she didn’t say a word.”

“If you remember how she was, she couldn’t have said boo to a goose, and certainly not to you. Don’t you remember how frightened she was when you yelled at the Mayor?”

“Yes, but I know the Mayor. We’ve been friends since school. He calls me rude names too.”

“To Bronwen, the Mayor is a very important, powerful and distant person. She was really afraid of reprisals. Now, I think she wouldn’t be as frightened as she was then. She’d be wary, cautious, but not terrified. Anyway, she is the first of your allies. You two should go to see her today. I’ll write down her new address.”

She did. Shortly afterwards she left as suddenly as she had arrived. Little Biddie woke up soon afterwards. I think the Goddess can ensure that Biddie will stay sleep when she wants to talk to us. Later on, when Biddie was happily playing by herself Deirdre and I checked our diaries. We had free time today, this afternoon, so we went to see Bronwen, leaving our baby Biddie at the nursery school. We had at least an hour and a half before one of us needed to collect Biddie again. That seemed a very long period after the few years when we had Biddie with us all the time. Babies are fun but time-consuming.

Bronwen was in and seemed to be expecting us. She had the coffee in front of us almost as soon as we sat down.

“Did Brigit tell you we were coming?” Deirdre asked.

“Yes. She thought you would be here about now. She was right. Did she tell you what she wants?”

“Yes,” I replied. “She wants us to sort out Christmas for the community so that they don’t end in debt; to sort out the debts they already have; and to make sure that they have a good Christmas this year without paying for it the whole year long. Not much, really, is it?”

“But this time we are allies,” Bronwen added. “The three of us will be working together to help Brigit achieve her aims. Last time we met I needed your help to sort myself out. Now I am sorted and able to help others. It’s a fantastic feeling and one I thought I’d never have.”

Bronwen looked very different from the ‘Brigit’ I had met when she was poor and starving. Her body had filled out to a reasonable shape. She was well dressed and her hair and face showed that she was taking care of her appearance. I could barely recognise the woman I had helped.

“We don’t know much about the problems of debt,” Deirdre said, “Neither of us has been in debt at any time. How bad is it Bronwen?”

“Bronwen?” Bronwen asked. “Raymond has always called me Brigit.”

“Because that is what the goddess Brigit told me your name was,” I said. “Now she’s told us the name you use is Bronwen. It is, isn’t it?”

“Yes. I think I would rather forget that my nickname was Brigit. It could be confusing for all of us with the goddess and your daughter sharing that name. Brigit the goddess sent Raymond to me when I really needed help. I appreciated what you did for me, most of all that you walked away when you had finished and left me to make my own life. Few men would have done that.”

Bronwen surprised me by kissing me on the cheek.

“I’d never have dared do that – then, Raymond. You scared me stiff. Now I can recognise you as a friend who helped me without using me.”

“Deirdre helped,” I replied. “Brigit sent Deirdre as soon as I had finished with your problem. Now we have another – debt. How big a problem is it?”

“Massive. Very few people on the poorer estates are free from it. It is better now than it was because you, Raymond, sorted out the benefits system but…” Bronwen stopped.

“What is the problem?” Deirdre insisted.

“Men.”

“Men?” I asked.

“Yes. Men.” Bronwen stated bluntly. “There are too many single mothers who have been abandoned by the babies’ fathers or even if the father is still around he is usually a drain on the family’s income instead of an asset. If a man is co-habiting with a woman the authorities assume that he is contributing towards the bills. Too often he isn’t. He’s unemployed, unemployable and too fond of drink and d**gs. His income from the state isn’t enough for the drink and d**gs so he sponges on the woman, leaving her worse off than she would be without him. Of course not all men are like that but far too many are and that is the problem. If the men could become providers instead of dependants most of the debt problems could be overcome. How we change the men? I don’t know. Do you?”

Deirdre and I looked at each other. We had no experience of the behaviour Bronwen was talking about. I admitted it.

“Bronwen, we haven’t a clue about how to deal with that. Can you suggest anything?”

“Well, we could get a group of people together and discuss it, Raymond. That might be a start.”

“It would. Can you do that?”

“Of course. We need somewhere to meet that doesn’t cost too much. No one has spare money for hiring a hall.”

I looked at Deirdre. She nodded.

“We have.” I said. “We can fund the hall and any publicity needed.”

We did. We hired a function room in a public-house close to most of the worst estates in our town. The three of us designed some leaflets to call a public meeting about debt problems and distributed them around the estates. It wasn’t such an eye-opener for me. I knew what the estates were like. Deirdre hadn’t been in such places before. As estates go they weren’t too bad.

There was some graffiti but most had been erased. There were some abandoned cars and heaps of rubbish in obscure corners. A few phone calls from me, specifying what was where and what needed doing – and it was done. After a week of leaflet delivering there was already an impact on the estates’ appearance.

Don’t think that Deirdre and I are miracle workers. We aren’t. It was just that those living on the estates had become accustomed to the mess and didn’t think that anything could be done. The council was willing to help when they were told. A few people followed our lead and made some tentative phone calls. They were surprised by the council’s prompt response.

Apart from the leaflets, I had been researching the problems of debt counselling. As I thought, it was far more complex than a layman would appreciate. The Citizens Advice Bureau had the expertise and the manpower in volunteers but were short of money to pay telephone bills, to write letters, to go with a debtor to meet the creditors and certainly no money to pay off debts. Setting up another organisation to duplicate what they were doing seemed unnecessary. What was needed was more resources for the Citizens Advice Bureau. I set about getting some.

Several organisations in the town were willing to fund projects that they could get publicity for, such as a new garden, a playground or a sports facility. They weren’t so forthcoming to fund a debt-counselling service because there would be no publicity for them.

Deirdre and I got around that. We persuaded the council to let us have the use of a room or two on each of three estates. We fitted the rooms with office equipment and telephones sponsored by local companies in exchange for their names being displayed on plaques on the wall of the waiting room. For each of those plaques we got a few hundred pounds a year towards the running costs.

Within three months and a week before the meeting we had the basics of three new offices for the Citizens Advice Bureau. All we needed were the customers.

Bronwen was worried about the meeting. She was worried that few people would come; that too many people would come; that the wrong people would come; that no one would come; that she would have to address the meeting – her worries were mounting. Deirdre and I kept calming her down. I would run the meeting. It didn’t matter how many or how few came. Any would be a start.

I planned the meeting as I would for a management seminar. If enough people came I would break the meeting up into three or more groups and each group would identify the problems of debt and possible solutions. The groups would come back to a plenary session and agree first the problems in order of importance and then how effective they thought the solutions might be.

The materials for the meeting were easily sourced. I borrowed some flipchart stands and was given flip charts and marker pens. I had a microphone and speakers but I hoped that we wouldn’t have to use them because they could deter some participants.

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One of Deirdre’s friends was baby-sitting for us that evening. Deirdre had joined a baby-sitting circle. Several evenings a month I was alone in our house with a sleeping daughter while Deirdre was in another woman’s house looking after their c***dren.

I was surprised that about forty women turned up. I was disappointed that none of them seemed to be as desperate as Bronwen/Brigit had been when I first met her. I was slightly nervous that I was the only man present. However Bronwen had been at work assuring potential attendees that I was worth listening to. I didn’t have to do much except introduce the speakers. Bronwen and Deirdre supported my efforts.

Bronwen had decided that there shouldn’t be any of the ‘authorities’ because it might inhibit the women. We had representatives from Freegle/Freecycle; Citizens’ Advice; the local Credit Union; the Women’s Refuge and a local agent from a PayDay loan company. Each of them led a group discussion before they reported back to the plenary session.

The PayDay loan woman was the surprise star of the evening. She explained their business model and that they expected a default rate of about 40%. The customers who did repay on time had to subsidise those who never repaid. But customers who used the pay day loans sensibly could build a credit rating and move on to more reasonable lenders. The PayDay loan company was a subsidiary of a larger bank. Good customers would be recommended to a different service with lower interest rates. The company had been set up as an alternative to i*****l, criminal loan sharks who would charge much higher interest rates and would use v******e or threats of v******e to get repayments.

She explained how pay day loans should be used and more importantly when they shouldn’t.

The conclusions were that the group should set up subcommittees to progress or investigate possible solutions to the problems caused by Christmas overspending. The majority opinion was that the men in the women’s lives were the biggest obstacle to financial prudence. One group, led by the woman from the Women’s Refuge, would discuss ways to change the men’s behaviour.

At the end of the meeting Bronwen and Deirdre hugged me. They were happy that some action was possible. I wasn’t as optimistic as they were. I still thought that the people who really needed help hadn’t been there. Bronwen agreed but told me that those who had come would be able to influence the more desperate women if things started to happen.

Issues not mentioned, the elephants in the room, were gangs, d**g dependency and d**g dealing. They had been omitted at Bronwen’s insistence because they could be issues that the attendees couldn’t tackle without significant intervention by the Police. The women weren’t ready to confront the d**g dealers and the gangs they ran. However they had made a start on considering the impact of domestic v******e and how to break the cycle.

As we left the hall Bronwen grabbed me and pulled me into a long kiss. She had obviously arranged it with Deirdre who was watching us with an amused smile.

When the kiss ended I asked:

“Why, Bronwen?”

“Because...” Bronwen paused. “For being you, Raymond. For helping me and asking nothing in return. I was frightened of you. Now? I love you. Not like Deirdre loves you, but as my friend who is there whenever I need you. Tonight is not the start of helping the community. So much has happened already. But it is the beginning of renewed hope for many of us. There’s a long way to go. Next Christmas will be better but we need years of work to solve some of the problems. But you, and Deirdre, will be there for us.”

Bronwen hugged me. Deirdre hugged me too. I hugged both of them.

We went home to relieve the baby-sitter who had spent the evening knitting as our Biddie slept.

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In bed that night I worshipped Brigit with my tongue between Deirdre’s legs. After a long session of arousing Deirdre she flipped me over and rode me, her breasts swinging as she pounded up and down on my erection.

We slept better that night than we had done for months. Deirdre still was pressed against my back early next morning when we were woken by Biddie moving around in her bedroom. Three-year-old Biddie can go from waking up to full-on activity in minutes, unlike her parents. If we didn’t start moving and give her breakfast? She’d be jumping on our bed and us very soon.

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Two months later the Goddess Brigit joined us for breakfast. Biddie accepts her as ‘Godmother Brigit’. When our Brigit/Biddie was christened we had asked the Goddess Brigit to be a godmother. What the vicar would have thought if he knew that we had chosen a pagan Goddess as a Godmother? We didn’t tell him even though he was startled that we had chosen such a stunning and apparently young woman for the role.

Deirdre took Biddie to nursery school leaving me with the Goddess.

“Raymond, I think you and Deirdre need to reassess your priorities,” Brigit said. “Your business is suffering and both of you are frequently tired. I appreciate what both of you are doing to help Bronwen and the community but you two are trying to do too much. You need help.”

“Help?” I queried.

“Yes, Raymond. Help with my goddaughter. Deirdre is still trying to work but she hasn’t got enough time. You are trying to help her and Bronwen and neglecting your business which pays for almost everything. You need someone to help you with Biddie. The normal solution would be an au pair but you could get someone local. Talk to Bronwen.”

“Bronwen?”

“Yes. Bronwen/Brigit. She knows people who are registered c***dminders but aren’t paid enough to live on. You could afford someone who could take Biddie to and from nursery school and help with her during the rest of the day.”

“And that would give us more time to help the community’s women?”

I knew that the Goddess Brigit’s priorities weren’t always the same as mine.

“Yes, Raymond. It’s June. Christmas might seem a long way off but so many women are struggling with debt from last Christmas. Some will still be in financial trouble in December. We’ve made a start but the problem is huge. The women can only do so much to help themselves. You and Deirdre have contacts that can do more but you’ve had no time to even see what might be possible. Talk to Deirdre when she gets back. She won’t like the idea at first. That’s why I waited until I could talk to you.”

Goddess Brigit left before Deirdre got back. Deirdre understands the Goddess well enough to know that her breakfast visit had a purpose.

When Deirdre returned she wanted to know what the Goddess had talked to me about. That led to one of our very infrequent rows. Deirdre was seriously annoyed at the suggestion that we weren’t coping with Biddie and our work. She was even more angry because she knew it was true. Deirdre was still angry even after I had collected Biddie. Tomorrow I will be back at work full-time and Deirdre will have to do the nursery run on her own.

By the evening Deirdre had decided that I wasn’t to blame. She thought Brigit the Goddess was being unreasonable, expecting us to do so much when we had already achieved significant progress.

The new Citizens’ Advice Bureau offices were acting as agents for the Credit Union. The idea of a financial Christmas Club had been dropped early on because so many women had experience of former Clubs failing. It was usually financial incompetence rather than fraud but some treasurers had absconded with the hard won savings. The women who used the Credit Union were beginning to see some help to get out of persistent debt. Although they could get loans, the Citizens’ Advice staff tried to make sure that the loan was for a reasonable purpose.

The Freegle initiative was working well. Many had been surprised that so many consumer durables were offered. Most items came from more affluent homes who wanted the latest technology and replaced furniture that was only slightly worn. Before Freegle the only way most of the estate’s women could get modern furniture was from stores that offered very costly hire purchase to those with poor credit records. A five hundred pound three piece suite could end up costing one thousand five hundred pounds. Yet for cash or a credit card the same furniture could be bought for three hundred pounds. If it came from Freegle? It cost nothing.

Outgrown cots and c***dren’s beds began to be Freegled on the estate, as did c***dren’s clothing and school uniform. There had been school uniform trading through the schools but the prices were still high with the funds going to the school.

By bedtime Deirdre had forgiven me, but not the Goddess. We were still too tired to make love. We knew that the routine would resume in the morning. Our enthusiasm for work and getting Biddie to and from nursery school was missing.

+++

By the evening of the next day when Biddie was asleep, tired out by an exciting day at nursery school, we were tired too. We were eating our evening meal when Deirdre suddenly stopped eating.

“Blast!” she said.

I looked at her. What had produced that?

“The Goddess is right. I’m tired. You’re tired. We aren’t as effective as we should be with our work, and we’re neglecting Biddie. Or rather, we’re not neglecting her. We’re neglecting everything else. The Goddess wants us to do more for the women and we haven’t got the energy. OK. I know her priorities aren’t the same as ours, but the women need us to do what we can do that they can’t.”

“You’re sure?” I asked diffidently.

“Yes, blast her. She’s right. Tomorrow I’ll contact Bronwen as the Goddess suggested. We’ll take it from there.”

Deirdre had decided. She started eating again. I could sense she was happier now that she had admitted we weren’t coping.

In bed that night we managed a few kisses and cuddles before we went to sleep wrapped around each other.

+++

When I returned from work the next evening I was surprised to find a young woman playing on the kitchen floor with Biddie.

“This is Anna,” Deirdre said.

“Hello Anna,” I said.

“Hello Mr Johnson,” Anna replied.

“He’s not Mr Johnson,” Biddie added. “He’s Daddy.”

“Or Raymond,” Deirdre added.

“Hello Daddy Raymond,” Anna said.

That caused Biddie to giggle.

“We’ll explain later,” Deirdre finished as she handed me a cup of tea.

Later was after she and Anna had put Biddie to bed with a bedtime story from both of them.

+++

The three of us sat down in the living room. Deirdre looked at me. I know that look. It means ‘how will you take this?’. I raised an eyebrow. Deirdre grinned at me. That was a hint. It wouldn’t be an unpleasant surprise.

“Anna is staying with us for a few days, Raymond,” Deidre started to say.

“Only if it is OK with you,” Anna interrupted quickly.

“Of course it is, isn’t it Raymond?” Deirdre said.

“Yes. Why not?” I said.

“There could be a ‘why not’...” Anna said.

Deirdre held a finger to her lips as a hint to Anna to let Deirdre do the talking.

“Anna is a qualified nursery teacher. She has lost her job recently through no fault of her own, but the reason makes it difficult for her to work at any local nursery school. Her former boyfriend Justin has been harassing her at work and everywhere she goes. He has been so persistent that he has been worrying the parents of the nursery school c***dren. Anna has asked for an injunction against him to stop him contacting her or coming to her place of work. He has been ignoring the bail conditions that the injunction would reinforce and getting other members of his family to pursue Anna as well.

She needed somewhere away from the estate, somewhere that Justin doesn’t know. Bronwen asked me to take Anna immediately. It’s a trial for her to see whether she can avoid Justin. It’s a trial for us to see if Anna gets on with Biddie and whether she can help us sort out our work and family priorities. So she’s with us for at least a week. During that time we hope the police and probation team can get Justin re-arrested for breach of the bail conditions.”

“OK, Deirdre. It sounds a good deal for us and Anna.”

I could feel the relief in both of them.

“But...”

They tensed up again.

“...I think it might help if I asked questions about what is happening with Justin.”

“Do you think that is wise?” Deirdre asked. “It might link our house with Anna.”

“I can do it in confidence.”

Neither of them were sure but content that I had accepted Anna as a temporary house guest. Anna looked tired, so tired her eyes were almost black. There were marks on her face that looked like old bruises. She sometimes winced as she moved so I suspected bruises under her clothes. After the evening meal Deirdre suggested that Anna could go to bed early. Anna didn’t object.

As we were washing up in the kitchen Deirdre explained more about Anna.

“She had been living in a small apartment above a shop when she met Justin. He seemed pleasant and courteous during their dates. But once he had moved in with her he gradually changed to controlling and abusive behaviour. He started d**g-dealing from Anna’s home and beat her up when she objected. He regarded Anna as his possession and no one else should have her.

Anna’s mother is one of Bronwen’s friends. They discussed Anna’s problems with Justin and decided to act. Between them they virtually k**napped Anna a few weeks ago while Justin was in a police cell overnight. He had been arrested for drunken assault at a night club. One of Anna’s former boyfriends, Darren, had been there. Justin thought Darren wanted to take Anna back and challenged him. Darren and Anna had split up amicably because their interests didn’t match. Darren is a keen motorcyclist racer, competing at a county and regional level. Anna doesn’t like motorcycles at all.

Justin had made a basic error, apart from assuming that Darren was a current rival. He challenged Darren while Darren’s friends were celebrating a 21st birthday. Justin didn’t get closer to Darren than shouting distance before the group pushed him out of the night club with assistance from the door staff. Justin’s other mistakes were punching a doorman in clear view of the CCTV, and assaulting police officers during arrest.”

“That is more than a basic error,” I said.

“But it gave an opportunity for Bronwen and Anna’s mother to get Anna away. Anna wouldn’t give evidence against Justin. She was afraid of what he, and more importantly his extended family, might do to her. She couldn’t go home to Mum. Justin knew that address. So Anna was taken to Bronwen’s apartment for a couple of nights.

Anna couldn’t live in her apartment. Justin had spare keys.

Anna’s mother paid for a local man and van to remove all of Anna and Justin’s stuff. Anna’s mother had Justin’s stuff packed and put in a local storage depot, paying for a month’s storage in Justin’s name. The man and van delivered the storage contract and key to the police station to be given to Justin on release. Except for basic items Anna’s possessions were taken back to her mother’s house.

The three of them cleaned and tidied the apartment. Anna’s mother and Bronwen took extensive pictures of the apartment to show the condition they had left it in. The three women went to the letting agent and returned the keys. Anna’s mother paid the rent for the notice period. Anna told the agent that it was essential that the locks should be changed because Justin would come there and had spare keys. She also wrote that on both copies of the lease termination agreement.

But as soon as he was released from a police cell Justin turned up at the Nursery School where Anna works. He tried to kick his way through the door, frightening the staff and c***dren.

He was arrested for that but bailed. Two days later he was back at the Nursery School. This time he came with a sledge hammer. He was inside the building before the police arrived. The staff had to evacuate the toddlers outside, in the pouring rain. Justin was arrested – again – bailed again and returned to the Nursery School the following week. He was arrested but the management told Anna, who was on probation in a new post, that they couldn’t continue to employ her because her presence was a risk they couldn’t accept. More importantly the c***dren’s parents were threatening to take their c***dren elsewhere because of Justin.

Three days ago it got worse. Anna had been to the Job Centre to register as unemployed. She is unemployable by any local nursery school because of Justin. She was seen by one of Justin’s cousins she doesn’t know. That cousin followed her all the way to Bronwen’s apartment. The next time Anna went out to go shopping Justin was waiting for her. He started beating her up in the street outside the local supermarket. The supermarket security staff pulled Justin off her and held him down until the police arrived. Anna needed hospital treatment. She has three broken ribs. This time Anna was persuaded to make a formal complaint against Justin. A pro-bono lawyer is applying for an injunction against Justin to add to the bail conditions he has broken repeatedly.

But Justin told Anna that his extended family would continue to harass her even if he was in a police cell. Anna, Bronwen, Anna’s mother AND the police believe that is a genuine possibility. Anna couldn’t stay with Bronwen any longer. For the last three nights Anna has been in the local women’s refuge, sleeping on a couch because they don’t have a bedroom for her.

When I went to see Bronwen, the Goddess had already suggested us as a solution for Anna’s problems. We would get someone who could help us. Anna would get a safe place to live that Justin doesn’t know about. It seems like a win for all of us.

Anna is seriously worried that Justin will find out where she is and come here to attack her and us. Anna thought a middle-aged man and woman couldn’t protect her...”

I laughed. Deirdre looked at me.

“I might be middle-aged, and tired, but I don’t see Justin as a threat.”

“Are you sure, Raymond?”

“Yes.” I said bluntly.

Anna had shown us pictures of Justin so we could recognise him if he came anywhere near. He was pasty-faced, not particularly large, and looked unfit. He was an occasional user of cannabis but not the harder d**gs he sold. Although my fitness level had been poor at the start of the year and I was not as fit as Deirdre could be, I had much more bulk and muscle than she has. Looking at the pictures of Justin, I think Deirdre could deal with him. Anna however was petite and slight.

+++

Ever since the Goddess sent Deirdre to me we had been gradually discovering how little we knew about each other’s past. Deirdre knew I was a company owner that was involved in engineering projects. She didn’t know, or didn’t understand, exactly what my company did. She knew I had an engineering degree, a Masters of Business Administration and a doctorate. The details meant nothing to her.

Deirdre was a freelance newspaper and magazine columnist. That is how she had become involved with the campaign to protect the quarry site that brought her to me. She had a degree in history, qualifications in journalism and a doctorate earned on aspects of 18th century newspapers.

What Deirdre did know, because I attended Remembrance Day parades wearing my medals, was that I had been in the services. She didn’t know and hadn’t asked what I had been. If she had, she would have known why I didn’t think Justin was a threat to me.

Why should she know or care what I had done in my twenties? We were enjoying our life together and expecting a future in which we loved each other. The past was irrelevant.

+++

Over the next few days Anna was settling down with us. Biddie enjoyed Anna. So did we. Deirdre did the nursery school runs because we thought it might be dangerous for Anna. Justin would expect her to be employed at a nursery school so he, or his family members, could be watching any or all of them. Anna had left her mobile phone with her mother. I had lent her a basic phone I had kept in a car. It would send and receive voice and texts but nothing else. Justin couldn’t locate it because it didn’t have GPS and Anna turned it off whenever she wasn’t using it.

Gradually Anna gave us more information about Justin. He had been using her apartment as his store room for d**gs. He supplied his low level dealers from his car but he had use of a caravan on a travellers’ site. Anna explained that the man who lived in the caravan was an addict. He allowed Justin to use the caravan in exchange for a discount on d**gs. Anna thought that the other travellers on that site were irritated by Justin.

She didn’t say anything about the abuse she had suffered but Deirdre and I had seen some of the old bruises when Anna was wearing a sleeveless top.

When Anna wasn’t looking after Biddie she turned herself into a maid of all work. We tried to persuade her to stop but she felt she owed us a debt for taking her in. She cleaned, cooked, tidied and did the washing. I had ironed underwear for the first time in decades.

Deirdre was spending more effective time on her writing. She had time for Biddie that she didn’t have to resent for interrupting her work. All of us were happier and more relaxed, particularly Anna as she felt Justin’s threats were distant from us.

I had made discreet enquiries about Justin. He was still in a cell on remand for failing to appear in a court a couple of months ago. That court appearance was for assault and possession of cannabis for personal use despite two previous police cautions. If convicted he would be unlikely to get a custodial sentence – for those charges. If Justin reappeared and Anna filed a formal complaint against him for breaches of an injunction? That might change the sentence.

The prosecution service were trying to get the charges of assault on the night club doorkeeper and resisting arrest added to Justin’s court appearance. They really wanted a formal complaint from Anna too.

I had spoken to the pro-bono lawyer and arranged for him to be paid to expedite the injunction against Justin. I hadn’t told Deirdre or Anna but the injunction would be issued today. Justin would be given notice of it while in his cell.

I had hinted through my police contacts that Justin’s possessions in the storage facility might repay searching. They obtained a search warrant, perhaps unnecessary since they had the key, but it would allow anything found to be used in evidence.

+++

A day later Anna had a worrying call from her mother. The agent for Anna’s apartment had sent a letter stating that her deposit would not be refunded and there would be a large bill of several thousand pounds for necessary repairs. I drove round to Anna’s mother’s place and collected the letter. I took it, and the signed end of lease agreement to my lawyers. Anna’s mother had emailed me pictures of the flat as they left it. I asked my lawyers to deal with the matter for Anna. I could sense my solicitor getting excited at the idea of ripping the agents a new arsehole.

He wrote them a stinging letter threatening a county court judgement for withholding the deposit and revocation of their trading licence for breaching the terms of the deposit scheme.

A week later Anna’s mother received a letter addressed to Anna enclosing a cheque for the full deposit and a grovelling apology. The agents also enclosed copies of photos of what had been done inside the flat. CCTV had shown Justin entering the building and using his keys to get into the flat. The agents hadn’t changed the locks even a week after Anna had told them to. Justin had been carrying a sledgehammer. He had smashed the kitchen and bathroom including all the fittings and equipment, leaving water gushing from broken pipes. The shop downstairs had turned off the water and electricity supplies as soon as they saw water coming through their ceiling. The agents had reported Justin for criminal damage. Apart from the CCTV he had left his blood on some of the pieces of the broken washbasin. Anna’s photos had shown there was no blood when she left.

Anna’s potential debt had been solved. She had the deposit back and we were paying her for looking after Biddie. She had no expenses so her bank account was in a better state than it had ever been. If only the debt problems on the estate could be solved that easily...

+++

Our initiatives on the estate were beginning to show some benefits but it would be years if ever before debt problems were solved. We had helped but the people we had helped were mainly those who hadn’t got the worst problems. d**gs, alcohol and gangs were still major factors. Apparently Justin’s continued detention had affected the supply of hard d**gs. Other dealers were moving in to take over Justin’s street-level peddlers. There was a rumour that Justin himself was in debt to the major d**g dealers who had supplied him. The police search of Justin’s possession in the storage depot had caused excitement. They found thirty thousand pounds in used notes and enough hard d**gs to supply the whole town for a month. They needed to prove that Justin had handled those packages. Forensic scientists were testing every seized item. But until then? Justin would appear in a magistrate’s court, probably be bailed for appearance in a higher court, and be back on the street within a day or two.

Anna and Deirdre were worried that Justin would find out where Anna was and come for her. I had asked my police and court contacts to let me know when Justin was bailed. In the meantime I had paid a local company to upgrade our home CCTV to include more cameras in the grounds, low light capability, and 24 hour recording and uploading. Anyone approaching our house from any direction would be recorded in real time.

One evening we were sitting around complaining about the lack of news about Justin’s trial. The forensic tests on the d**gs found among Justin’s possessions might take more weeks to finish.

“Anna, why does Justin continue to chase you?” Deirdre asked.

Anna looked at Deirdre as if that was a stupid question. She shrugged her shoulders.

“Justin is afraid I could give evidence about his d**g dealing, Deirdre. I know too much including where and who he got his d**gs from. He used to send me out on my bicycle to deliver to his street dealers. I know them all, their street names, their real names and addresses and their mobile numbers. But I think that a more important reason for Justin is that I was his possession, his sex slave. It’s hurt his pride that I’ve left. Without my Mum and Bronwen I might not have. I had loved Justin. I took some of the abuse as signs that he loved me. But not the last beating that broke my ribs. That finished any feeling I had for him. Now? I just want him gone from my life so I can start again.”

I could see Deirdre was shocked. She gave Anna a hug. People like Justin are outside Deirdre’s experience. Not mine. I had met many people like Justin, too many. They use people and throw them away when they’re bored. Or go too far when high on d**gs and alcohol and injure or kill the person they say they love. Their love is only for themselves.

Even though Justin was still remanded in custody his family remained a threat to Anna. She had been afraid to leave the house. Deirdre had taken Anna shopping to a town thirty miles away that as far as Anna knew had not association with any of Justin’s family. Anna had worn one of Deirdre’s hooded jackets in the car, her head almost lost inside the fur-trimmed hood, and wearing dark glasses.

They had gone to some of the charity shops and bought clothes very unlike Anna’s normal styles. Anna used to wear leggings and long tops with trainers on her feet. She and Deirdre bought skirts, dresses and formal trousers. They had been to a hairdressers. Anna’s long straight light brown hair had been cut much shorter, styled into a bob, and had blonde highlights.

When they returned I barely recognised Anna. She had been transformed from a casually-dressed young woman into an elegant young lady wearing a dress with pantyhose and low heels. Her make-up had been revised by a professional saleswoman in a department store. She looked wonderful. If I had been decades younger? The new-look Anna would have made me look twice or more often. It wasn’t just the change in externals. Anna was much happier.

Biddie wasn’t sure at first that she liked the change in Anna. As soon as they were both on the floor playing with Biddie’s dolls, Biddie was satisfied her Anna was the same person even if she looked different. Biddie’s Anna was now part of our family.

+++

One evening we were sitting around the kitchen table. Deirdre was writing on her laptop. I was reading a trade magazine. Anna was idly looking at a page of an old issue of the local paper she was using to put potato peelings on. She was preparing a potato topping for a Shepherd’s Pie for tomorrow evening. Anna stopped with a muttered exclamation.

“What is it, Anna?” Deirdre asked.

“This report. A traveller’s caravan burned. I know that caravan. It belonged to Lonny. Justin used Lonny’s caravan as a store for his d**gs as well as my flat. Lonny was a serious heroin addict in poor health. Every time I visited Lonny I thought he would be dead before I went again. He was in a dreadful state. The report said that the occupant was in hospital when the caravan burned. I know that travellers sometimes burn a dead person’s caravan as part of a funeral but Lonny wasn’t dead.”

“I think he was,” I said. “I think there was an obituary notice in this week’s issue.”

I went to the sitting room to find that paper. I flipped to the obituary page. I showed it to Anna. It read “Leonard (Lonny)...”

“That’s him,” Anna said. “I felt sorry for him. He had lost his wife and two c***dren in a car crash that left him with smashed legs. He blamed himself, possibly with some justification. He was driving an uninsured and unlicensed car that was unroadworthy. But the car was hit by a stolen van that sped through a red light. He took to drink and d**gs to blunt his pain. Justin used Lonny’s caravan as a safe house. The police rarely go on to travellers’ sites unless they have enough men to deal with the aggravation. By the time the police had got past everyone else to Lonny’s caravan Lonny could have hidden the d**gs.”

“That’s a sad story,” Deirdre said.

“Most of Justin’s dealers and customers are sad stories,” Anna said. “He used them all.”

I noticed movement on the CCTV monitor. Someone was approaching the front door. I thought I knew who it was. I put my magazine down.

“I’ll get that,” I said.

“Get what?” Deirdre asked.

“The front door,” I said as the doorbell rang.

I opened the door. It was the Goddess Brigit. She hadn’t been to us since Anna arrived. She kissed me. We walked into the kitchen.

“Anna, this is Brigit, our Biddie’s godmother.”

Anna was startled. The Goddess Brigit always looks spectacular.

“Anna knows who I am, even if she hasn’t seen me before,” Brigit said.

“You’re...” Anna said.

“The Goddess Brigit,” Brigit said. “You’ve worshipped me, Anna.”

Brigit walked to Anna and kissed her on the forehead. Anna still looked shocked.

“I thought you were a myth...” Anna whispered.

“No myth.”

Brigit waved a hand. Anna’s potatoes appeared on the Shepherd’s Pie already mashed and part-cooked.

“You can put that in the fridge, Anna,” Brigit said. “We’re going to have coffee in the living room.”

Anna nearly dropped the Shepherd’s Pie but she managed to put it in the fridge. We followed Brigit into the living room. Three mugs of coffee were already there. Deirdre and I sat down on the settee. Brigit pulled Anna to sit on her legs in a large armchair. Anna was obviously frightened of Brigit.

“Drink your coffee, Anna,” Brigit ordered, giving Anna a mug.

Anna sipped. Her face changed. We knew why. The coffee had Brigit’s breast milk in it. Anna drank the coffee quickly. Brigit took the empty mug from Anna’s hand before pulling Anna’s head to her shoulder. Anna snuggled against Brigit. I felt slightly jealous of Anna.

“I’ve come mainly to talk to Anna,” Brigit announced, “but also to thank you two for what you are doing about Christmas. We’re getting there on debt. It will always be a problem for some of my people. Many of them are now just solvent and will be able to afford Christmas without too much pain next year. But I need Anna’s help with a bigger problem.”

Brigit hugged Anna.

“I know you are scared, Anna, but you need to tell the police everything you know about Justin and his d**g dealing. We could clear most of the d**g dealing off our local estates, even the new dealers who have moved in. They’re still using the local people Justin supplied. You know all of them. If you...”

“They’ll kill me!” Anna exclaimed.

“No they won’t. The big dealers will all be in jail. The little people, the d**g users and minor dealers will be on d**g addiction programmes. You would have helped them break their habit.”

“I’m still hurting from the broken ribs Justin gave me,” Anna said quietly.

Brigit hugged Anna.

“No. You’re not. Feel. I’ve healed them.”

“How?”

“I’m a Goddess. I can. I have.”

Anna pushed a finger against her ribcage and was surprised there was no pain. She kissed Brigit.

“Thank you, thank you,” Anna said.

“And I’ll protect you against Justin and his low-lifes. So will Raymond and Deirdre.”

Anna looked at me. I could sense that she didn’t think I would be much protection.

“Don’t underestimate Raymond. I did at first. There’s more to him than he looks. As for Deirdre? She’d beat Justin up with pleasure, wouldn’t you Deirdre?”

“Yes,” Deirdre said, “But could Raymond?”

“Trust me. He could, probably more effectively than you.” Brigit replied.

Brigit had to work hard to persuade Anna that she would be protected even after giving evidence to the police. Eventually, and very reluctantly, Anna agreed to go to the police as long as I and my solicitor went with her.

+++

That night Brigit joined us in bed. I worshipped her as she and Deirdre enjoyed each other. As I was licking Brigit’s pussy my erection was sheathed in Deirdre. They rocked backwards and forwards, their hands caressing breasts while they kissed. I had a hand on two women’s breasts until Brigit pushed them under her thighs. She lifted herself, thrusting Deirdre hard down on my erection. Deirdre shuddered into the first orgasm of many before the Goddess let me come into my wife.

Deirdre and I slept on the Goddess Brigit’s shoulders after drinking breast milk. In the morning the Goddess had gone leaving Deirdre sleeping on my shoulder.

Anna seemed worried during breakfast. She had agreed to go to the police but was afraid of the consequences. Deirdre told me Anna had cried on Deirdre’s shoulder when Deirdre came back from taking Biddie to nursery school. Anna wasn’t going to back out of her decision but she was still scared.

From work I rang my solicitor. I asked him to arrange with the Police for Anna and I, accompanied by him, to give an interview. The solicitor rang back within the hour. We had an appointment at the county police headquarters tomorrow morning at 10 am. He also warned me that Justin might be out on bail by the end of tomorrow. The police’s scientific evidence was still incomplete. Justin couldn’t be held any longer on minor charges, even including the damage to Anna’s former flat.

Anna would need her original mobile phone she had left with her mother. She arranged for her mother to bring it, switched off, to my office. I collected it from my secretary when I left.

When I got home I told Anna and Deirdre what had been arranged and that Justin could be out on bail by tomorrow evening. I had to hug both of them because they were worried what might happen.

Later on Anna showed me another article from the local paper. One of her former boyfriend Darren’s motorcycle racing team had been killed in a motorcycle race last weekend. Darren had been interviewed by the reporter and had expressed his grief at the team’s loss. Anna wanted to write to Darren expressing her sympathy. She had known the man who had died. But should she use our address or her mother’s?

Deirdre thought it would still be better to use Anna’s mother’s address. Anything that linked Anna to us might be unwise until Justin was on trial.

+++

All of us had made the mistake of underestimating Justin’s family and his d**g dealing network. They had established fairly quickly that Anna was nowhere on the estates or at the Women’s refuge. So where was she?

They had followed Anna’s mother for days without being seen. The link to Bronwen was clear. The two women were often together. Bronwen was known on the estates as someone working on the debt problems of Christmas. Almost all the other women working on those projects were also from the estates, and Anna was not around.

Who had contact with Bronwen who was not local? They soon made the connection to Deirdre and Raymond Johnson. With that information getting our address was easy. For several days a couple of local men had been watching our house with binoculars from a distance. They had seen Anna before and after her makeover. They knew, so Justin’s family knew. All they were waiting for was Justin himself to be out on bail.

The watchers had overestimated their own abilities. Although we had not seen them, they were from the estates and didn’t understand the countryside. As they watched, they were watched too. Their connection to Justin’s family was known.

+++

In the morning I drove Anna to the county police headquarters. We met my solicitor in the car park. I, Anna and my solicitor were taken into a small conference room set up for a recorded interview. My solicitor had already agreed with the police that Anna would not be charged with any offence in exchange for the information she would give.

And give she did, chapter and verse, street names, real names, addresses, alternate addresses, land line and mobile numbers, hundreds of text messages from her mobile’s memory...

We had to break for lunch at one o’clock. We resumed at two. We finished, eventually, at half past four but they would need Anna to testify in court when Justin and his associates were tried.

The police told us that the scientific evidence about Justin’s link to the d**gs found in the storage depot might be available within the next 48 hours. If it was, and it proved that Justin had handled those d**gs he would be re-arrested and this time he would not be bailed. Anna’s information would need to be evaluated and a massive simultaneous police raid at dozens of addresses would happen. That raid might be possible in a couple of days but would need a senior policeman’s authority.

But Justin had been released on bail. He was still required to observe the bail conditions and the injunction issued that said he must stay away from Anna. Whether he would keep the conditions? None of us believed that he would.

Anna was worried that we had left Deirdre on her own. What if Justin came? I reassured her. Biddie was at a birthday party and Deirdre was hosting a committee meeting about domestic abuse. If Justin came he would be met by a dozen angry women who had begun to see just how much damage Justin had done to their community.

We arrived back home just after Biddie had been brought back from the birthday party. Anna went straight into c***dminder mode, taking Biddie into the kitchen to hear Biddie’s excited account of the party. The committee meeting took Biddie’s arrival as the signal to end their discussions. They had finished the scheduled agenda half an hour ago and had been enjoying a general moan about their men folk. That didn’t stop all of them from giving me a hug and kiss. Deirdre was amused. Many of those at the meeting had good reason to hate men but apparently I was acceptable.

When they had gone I told Deirdre that Justin was out on bail. We had expected it. We had hoped that he would have been remanded in custody. We thought he didn’t know that Anna was with us so our concerns weren’t immediate.

After our evening meal we were sitting in the living room talking about what had happened at police headquarters and Deirdre’s committee meeting. I had switched the CCTV to our largish TV screen. About nine o’clock I saw movement outside. I enlarged the feed from that camera.

“Here he comes,” I said. “Anna, please go up to Biddie. She might be woken up. Deirdre? Ring the police. Tell them...”

“What are you going to do, Raymond?” Deirdre asked as she picked up the phone.

“Confront him, of course. See you.”

I opened the front door and went outside, shutting it behind me. The security lights came on as I stepped beyond the porch. Justin was blinded temporarily. He waved the sledgehammer he was carrying.

“I’ve come for that bitch Anna!” he shouted.

“You’ve got to get past me,” I retorted.

He rushed at me. I swivelled, ducking under the hammer. I hit him in the solar plexus as he passed. As he turned I floored him with a leg sweep. He dropped the hammer as he fell. As he tried to get up I hit his raised arm. He rolled, pushed himself upright and rushed at me again. He ran straight into my raised fist, breaking his nose. He tried to grab me. A chop from my right hand broke one of his arms. He tried to hit me with the other arm. I broke that too.

A group of men came up the drive. They didn’t look as if they were threatening me. Their hands were spread wide.

“Thank you, Mr Johnston,” the man in the leads said. “We’ll take over from here. Come on Justin. You’ve some questions to answer...”

Two of the men grabbed Justin by his broken arms. They started to drag him away. Behind them a set of floodlights switched on.

A police inspector walked forwards.

“Gentlemen, you don’t want to be on charges of assault, do you? Mr Johnson was defending his wife and family so self-defence applies. I know you mean well, but leave it to the police this time, please?”

In the floodlights I had recognised that the group of men were from the travellers’ site where Lonny had died. Their leader gave a signal to the men holding Justin. They dropped him to the ground. He screamed in pain.

“All yours, inspector,” their leader said. “He might prefer a cell to what we might have done to him. But he’ll need medical attention first. Mr Johnson gave him the first instalment of what he deserves.”

The travellers melted away into the darkness. The police inspector read Justin his rights before he was put on a stretcher and carried away. A policeman put Justin’s sledge hammer into an evidence bag.

“Thank you, Mr Johnson,” the inspector said. He looked past me. “And thank you Mrs Johnson and Anna. Justin was the last of our arrests this evening. We have thirty persons of interest in custody facing an interesting collection of charges.”

He turned to walk away. He stopped by his car. He reached inside and produced a large and heavy carrier bag.

“I forgot,” he said walking back to us and stopping in front of Anna. “Before Justin was released on bail today he gave a statement about the money we found. He said and wrote, and his statement was witnessed, that the money wasn’t his, but yours, Anna. I think he wanted to make sure that it wasn’t claimed as the proceeds of crime, and perhaps he could persuade you to give it back later. But there will be no later. Justin is going to jail for a very long time. Here you are.”

He gave the bag of money to Anna.

“Thank you,” she said.

“My pleasure.” The inspector walked back to his car and drove away.

+++

Of course it took months before Justin and his d**g dealing associates were tried, convicted and jailed. Justin received thirty-five years with a recommendation that he should not be considered for release for twenty. He was convicted of being a regional d**g supplier and for two cases of murder of rival d**g dealers. As a minor aside he had to pay for the damage to Anna’s former flat.

I wish I could say that the estates were clear of d**g-dealing and gangs. They’re not but they are less of a threat now Justin and his group are gone.

Christmas is coming again. The spectre of debt still haunts many of the people on the estates. We have helped but debt will still be a problem for years. There is more hope now. Perhaps that’s all we could achieve.

Anna’s former boyfriend Darren supported her throughout Justin’s trial. The death of his friend was enough for him to decide to change from motorcycle racing to being a motorcycle mechanic with his own shop. We hope they will marry before next Christmas. Darren loves Anna for the person she is. So do we. So does Biddie, our little Brigit.

As for the Goddess Brigit? After Christmas I think she has something else for us to sort out for her. Worshipping Brigit gives me more and more tasks.

Deirdre had been startled by what I had done to Justin. Why not? I had been a Captain in the Royal Marine Commandos in my youth. Breaking Justin’s arms had been simple. And I enjoyed doing it. It was some repayment for the debt he owed Anna.

The End