Who doesn’t love a Greek island? Here’s one of Helen’s first experiences on one – not what you might expect.
“Looks like it’s only you and me for the windsurfing.” Jax winked at Helen.
She groaned. It looked quite technical, something she suspected Janet would have been much better at. But the idea of spending the day with her dad, doing something he enjoyed, appealed to her.
Surprisingly, she managed quite well, once she understood it was mostly a matter of balance, and going with the flow. He suggested most people failed because they were afraid to fall in the water. “Once you realise a dunking is inevitable, you stop fighting it.”
She wasn’t kidding when she said Janet was much better suited to sporting activities, but for some reason this one worked for her. Despite his forebodings, she didn’t fall off once. The half hour was over far too soon, but he hired a pedalo and they pedalled their way over to the other part of the beach to explore the cliff.
When they reached the top, he asked if everything was okay with boys.
“How do you mean, okay?”
A scowl. “I don’t want to pry, but I definitely got a bad vibe off that Jason character.”
“Jason?” A beat. “You mean Justin. That was ages ago – we finished at Easter.”
He nodded. “Good. I got the impression it was all over, but you never mentioned it and, as I’ve said many times, I don’t like to pry.” His expression, however, said prying was exactly what he wanted to do. Or at least getting a feel for how the relationship had gone.
She took pity on him. “I know you’re desperate to ask but worried about what I might reveal.”
His face scrunched up. “Really? I’m that obvious?”
“You have no idea. I’m guessing all fathers go through this at some point with their daughters.”
He deadpanned. “You have no idea.”
She chuckled. “I haven’t actually gone out with that many boys, because I find the majority to be far too immature. Most of them are only interested in the one thing I’m not prepared to give.”
His eyebrows rose. “Pleased to hear it.”
A sigh. “And I guess my experience with men has been somewhat tainted.”
“Of course. Stella, I mean your mother, has been reluctant to shed too much light on what happened. But there are a number of things I wish she’d known about.”
Helen was caught completely unawares as he grabbed her from behind. “What the heck?”
“What would you do if someone did this to you?”
Trying to get past the shock gripping her brain, she focused on how he was holding her captive, looking for the weakest link. His obvious strength meant there was little point in struggling against the grip on her wrists. At the very least, it would result in bruising.
“Come on. If you don’t do something he could have you half-naked by now.”
Helen knew one of the best strategies for a woman was to aim for her assailant’s genitals, but that only worked if the guy was face to face. She had no chance of kneeing him in the testicles with her back to him. And a head-butt was out of the question, although she doubted that particular tactic was something she would ever dream of using. Particularly on her beloved dad.
The only weapons available were her feet, and she tossed up between stamping on his foot and kicking his shin. However, she couldn’t imagine practising on her dad because of the whole hurting thing.
“Don’t worry about hurting me. I promise, you won’t do that.”
She went for the foot stamp, figuring it would be easier to manage and less likely to overbalance her. But somehow he knew, moving his foot away so she only stamped the ground.
“Good attempt, and it would have worked on most attackers, as long as they weren’t army trained.”
But she was banking on the fact he didn’t know she’d watched several films featuring self-defence techniques. She followed up the manoeuvre with an elbow-jab aimed at his midriff, figuring his attention would be diverted enough to give some slack on his grip of her wrist.
Unfortunately, she hadn’t reckoned on him being well versed in anticipating any moves she might make. He dodged her elbow, catching her arms behind her back, and capturing both wrists with one hand.
“Good try. What will you do now?”
She tried flexing her wrists, but his tight grip gave no room for manoeuvre. The part of her brain which registered pain stuck up a tentative hand, muttering about the level of discomfort, but what she understood as the fight-or-flight instincts shouted it down, needing full power to focus on an escape strategy.
“Come on, girl. Every second counts. What are your instincts telling you to do?”
She wanted to snarl at him to shut up and let her think, but she understood he was deliberately raising the stakes so the appropriate parts of her natural defence mechanism would kick in. Without the benefit of the sort of training he obviously received during his military career, she instinctively knew the only way she could best him would be with speed and something unexpected.
Figuring most women would merely struggle against the grip holding them captive, she quickly dismissed this as a waste of energy. The whole superior strength thing. A couple of moves sprang to mind, but she wouldn’t feel at all comfortable doing them to her dad.
“Stop analysing, just act. Whatever comes to–”
He didn’t get a chance to finish as she sprang back, simultaneously twisting half a turn and jerking her shoulder into whatever part of his body was closest. Using the shock of the unexpected move and the momentum of her body against him, she managed to free her wrists and shoved hard, sprinting down the path, panting for breath.
Half-way down she stopped, surprised he hadn’t appeared. Her first thought was she’d injured him in some way, and this quickly gave way to an image of the scene. Surely he wouldn’t have overbalanced and fallen down the cliff? Unable to bear the thought he could be suffering, she ran back, but he was nowhere to be seen. Was this even the right place? She scouted around for some indication, finally spotting an unusual cluster of rocks which reminded her of a badly-formed big cat. More of a tiger than a lion.
“Of course, if you were really being attacked, you would never return to see if you’d injured your assailant.”
She jumped as he appeared from behind a tree. “I thought you’d fallen over the cliff or something.”
“Sorry. Badly-timed call of nature.” A chuckle. “And I had to search for some water to wash my hands.”
“Did I hurt you? I heard a thump, but I was doing what you said and obeying my instinct to run.”
“Not at all. More importantly, did I hurt you? I was trying to be gentle, but the instructor was clear that if we took it easy on the girls, they’d never be able to defend themselves against a real attacker.”
“My wrists may be sore later on, otherwise I’m okay. A little warning would have been nice.”
“That would have defeated the object. I wanted to assess your reflexes, and I have to say, they’re way better than I could ever have hoped. Your first instinct should always be to run, and that’s what you did, the moment you could.”
“Except I came back.” She grinned.
“Because you don’t realise how tough your old man is. I meant it when I said you couldn’t do anything to hurt me.”
“You think?” She described one of the tactics which had run through her mind, and he winced.
“Ouch. I pity the guy who tries to take you on.”
“Am I right? Would it hurt more if I dug my nails in or twisted really hard?”
His face screwed up. “Depends what he’s wearing. You won’t be able to do much through thick denim.”
“But if he takes them off, it only leaves thin cotton.”
“And you can be pretty sure of his intention if he’s down to his underwear. But would you have the nerve to grab hold of a stranger’s privates?”
“If it was that or be raped, there’s no question. Nails or twist?”
“Both if you can.” A shudder. “I consider it my duty to arm both you girls with some rudimentary self-defence techniques. It’s just a shame I couldn’t have taught Stella before I left. Then maybe the three of you wouldn’t have suffered so much.”
“No point crying over spilt milk. If you had, then maybe we wouldn’t have Janet.”
JRo Author 