The Sunshine Cruise Company Read Online Free PDF Page A

visit on her co-star. ‘Did you see earlier? In his whole “reason not the need” bit? Grabbed my bloody hand. I thought he was going to break my wrist!’
    ‘Yes,’ Susan said. ‘He does rather like to go for it.’
    Agnes looked at her watch. ‘Roll on six o’clock. I’m dying for a drink.’ Over on the side of the hall glasses, a case of red wine and a few bowls of nibbles sat on a trestle table. Next to the table was a black plastic bin filled with ice containing white wine and beers. It was tradition, after final rehearsal, before opening night: a small gathering for friends and family, all of whom had undoubtedly helped with learning lines, contributing clothing for costumes and buying more tickets than was strictly reasonable.
    ‘Mmmm,’ Susan said, sipping her coffee. Her head was still fuzzy from the champagne earlier with Julie. She shouldn’t drink at lunchtime, she really shouldn’t. ‘Mind you, I can’t help feeling this party might be a bit premature.’ She nodded towards the stage where Frank was negotiating between Bill and Freddy. Johnny Grainger was hurriedly repainting the damaged bit of scenery.
    ‘Be all right on the night, love,’ Agnes said. ‘It’s like this every time.’
    ‘True.’
    ‘I’m making some tea. Anyone want one?’
    ‘No thank you,’ Jill and Susan chorused as Agnes went off across the hall.
    ‘OK!’ Frank was saying, coming back down the steps, clapping his hands together. ‘From the top of the scene, let’s go again.’
    ‘BLOW, WINDS, AND CRACK YOUR CHEEKS!’
    Susan sipped her coffee and turned the page of her magazine. She became aware that, in the seat in front of her, Jill’s shoulders were shaking.
    ‘Jill … are you …?’
    ‘Oh dear, I’m sorry, Susan.’
    Jill turned round and Susan saw in the half-light that her face was glistening. Surely she couldn’t have hurt herself that badly?
    ‘What is it?’
    ‘Oh, just …’ Jill blew her nose on the hanky ever-present in her cardigan sleeve. ‘Sorry, just … our Jamie. The poor lamb.’
    Susan stroked Jill’s shoulder. Her grandson – some rare disease. His lungs, Susan remembered. ‘Not getting any better?’
    ‘No.’ Jill sighed. ‘It’s not going to either. Unless he gets this operation.’
    ‘Oh, love,’ Susan said. ‘How’s your –’ Susan had to search quickly for Jill’s daughter’s name – ‘your Linda holding up?’
    ‘She’s just exhausted all the time, Susan.’
    ‘Poor thing.’
    The two women sat there for a moment before Susan added, reflexively, ‘Is there anything I can do?’
    Jill sniffed and smiled. ‘You don’t have a spare thirty thousand pounds I could borrow, do you?’
    Susan smiled too.

SEVEN
    ‘YOU WANT IT all this time, don’t you? You dirty bastard,’ she said. ‘You greedy, dirty fucking bastard.’
    ‘Mmmf! Unnnnggg!’ came his muffled reply.
    She was circling him slowly, pointing at him with it, the only sound in the room the creaking of her patent leather boots. The boots had savagely spiked heels and stopped three-quarters of the way up her thighs, just revealing her stocking tops. She was naked from the waist up, huge breasts dangling free, the nipples an incredibly bright red from all the lipstick slathered on them, the way he liked it. And ‘room’ was an inadequate description. ‘Dungeon’ was more accurate. He had spent considerable time and money getting this place just right. The walls were completely plastered with pornography – S&M stuff, group sex, some strong bestiality images – and the only light came from a blue neon sign he’d had made at a specialist place. It said ‘RAPIST’. The shelves were covered with sex toys – restraints, costumes, vibrators, dildos, eggs, Ben-Wa balls, nipple clamps, anal beads, strap-ons and the like – and jars of lubricants. Countless DVDs. Behind the circling dominatrix the black eye of the video camera stared unblinklingly at them from its tripod.
    Yes, much time and