Paradise Park Read Free

smile curved her lips. Now she could make herself comfortable for what remained of the night.
    As she lit the candle a warm glow filled the small hut. Now she could light a fire. She knew that Bull used to keep a bundle of sticks under the bed and she bent down to slide her hand beneath the frame. Good! Some kindling had been left behind when the hut had been abandoned. At first it refused to light and Rhiannon thought of the warm room she’d grown used to. Still, she was here now and she just had to make the best of it.
    At last, she had a good fire shooting flames and spitting sparks through the bars of the brazier. Rhiannon held out her hands, enjoying the warmth. Suddenly she felt weary, and stretched out on the bed she had shared with Bull. It was then that the tears ran fast down her face, but she had learned that crying did no good. Life was full of ups and downs, and she had weathered them all, hadn’t she? But she had never felt so despairing as she did now, alone in the damp hut to which she’d thought she’d said goodbye for ever.
    The candle flickered and died, and Rhiannon stared into the flames, which danced in a blur before her tear-filled eyes. Then she heard a rat scratching and drew her shawl closer to her face. She thought of chasing it out of the hut but she was too weary to bother. Perhaps the creature needed warmth and shelter as much as she did. She was almost asleep when the whistle of a train woke her again.
    As the train thundered past she wondered briefly whether it would be better to go back to her old life touting for custom from the rich men of the town. Then she decided she was too tired to think clearly now. She lay down again and in a few minutes she was asleep.
    Sal Evans thought she had found some of the luck Rhiannon Beynon had told her about. Next to her in the bed was a young buck, a clean, good-looking man who had taken her into the Paradise Park with him to spend the night. He had been very drunk but now he was sleeping like a baby.
    Sal stretched her legs enjoying the warmth of the bed and the cosy feel of the blankets around her shoulders. This was better than sleeping on an old bench in a railway station. Her eyes grew heavy and she drifted off to sleep.
    A heavy slap across her face woke her. She sat up, wide awake. The young man she’d slept with was kneeling before her, his face red with anger. ‘You whore!’ he said. ‘You dirty stinking whore!’ He hit her again, this time with his clenched fist. Sal reeled back from him in horror. Gone was the nice young buck of the night before: the man hitting her looked like a demon.
    He lashed out again and his fist connected with her jaw, sending Sal sprawling onto the floor.
    â€˜How dare you sleep in my bed, you dirty slut!’ He climbed down and aimed a kick at her face. Sal curled up into a tight ball trying to protect herself. ‘I’ll teach you to take advantage of a decent young man.’ He kicked her again, his foot connecting with her stomach. Sal gasped in pain and tried to crawl towards the door. He caught her ankles, turned her over on her back and hit her across the face again. Sal thought she must be in a nightmare – how could this be happening to her? He continued to slap her until she gave up trying to protect herself. How long the beating went on she didn’t know: a kick connected with her head and she lost consciousness.
    When she came to, Sal’s eyes were swollen so badly she could hardly see. Her body ached, and as she struggled to her feet she felt a trickle of blood run down her legs. The bastard! He must have raped her after the beating.
    She staggered out of the room. She knew there was little point in complaining: no one would listen to a cheap whore. In the back-street she felt the early light touch her bruised face and it was then that she began to cry.

CHAPTER TWO
    A COCK CROWING outside the hut woke Rhiannon and she sat up, her heart pounding as she