I had wrapped all the presents for the grandchildren and made sure all the ingredients for the dinner on Boxing Day were in the refrigerator. I was sitting down with a well-earned cup of tea when the door bell rang. I swore under my breath. Why? I could have sworn out loud. There was no one to hear me since my wife Penelope died five years ago. I opened the inner door. Standing in the porch with the outer door shut behind her was my friend and near neighbour Helen. ‘Come in,’ I said. ‘I’ve just made a cup of tea.’ Helen followed me into the kitchen. I poured her a cup of tea before we went back to my sitting room. ‘This is an unexpected visit,’ I said because Helen seemed reluctant to say why she had come. ‘I don’t know how to ask this,’ she said hesitatingly. ‘Then just ask,’ I prompted. ‘You know this evening we have the Christmas procession?’ ‘Yes, Helen. I know. I used to be part of it.’ I had been until about five years ago. I had the major role of Father Christmas on an. .. and the fear they induced?She could not deny them. Though she prayed to Almighty God to let her be able to deny them, it was possible to do so. Impossible.Unbelievably impossible .As Julia continued to sob, her tears made a dark, damp patch on the white boards of the bunk. Julia’s nerves flared as she caught the sound of a key turning in the lock of the cabin cell to which she had been taken. Shuddering, she pressed closer to the boards of the wall and beneath her, closing her eyes like a c***d wishing to get rid of an unpleasant idea.Ssmmaaa... aaacckkk!A broad palm, seemingly as hard as a piece of wood, smashed across Julia’s bare bottom.„Up!“ bellowed a harsh male voice.With a shriek of shock as much as pain, Julia leapt up off the boards, her chain clanking.„Up... and kneel... when Ahmed enters!“Before her terrified eyes swam a black figure. The figure came into focus. It was a negro as muscular as Jason and as scantily clad, with only the white pouch about his loins. To her.
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