The Village Green

By Sue Simpson

Chain Border

I have a question.


Theresa Stephanie Green was born in nineteen sixty-eight to a council tenement mother and a plethora of paternal possibilities.

Had I not known her mother for the low-grade trollop that she was, I might have considered the fact that Sheila Green had perfect speech and enunciated every syllable very slowly and properly. I just don't think it ever occurred to Sheila during her gin-soaked pregnancy how cruel children would interpret the choice of name she had chosen for her first-born, the first of eight before she was led kicking and screaming to the sterilisation couch.

Theresa's biggest curse was the fact that she grew up pretty, not to mention pretty fast. By the age of eight, the kids had labelled her 'Trees are Green.' Soon she was pronouncing her name 'Trees-are,' something that stuck with her thoughout her childhood and young womanhood.

She was just turned thirteen when some spotty individual first called her 'The village Green,' and it only took three months before most of the thirteen- to eighteen-year-olds in town had lain on the green.

A girl of limited intelligence, she flaunted her wares provocatively, highlighting the one thing she could 'sell' about herself. She never did have much business acumen, and gave freely what could have made her a fortune.

Every man in town followed with his eyes as her curves ebbed and flowed down the street. Halter-tops and short shorts were her uniform. That girl never knew how to keep a secret, least of all her own.

At the age of fifteen she was raped. Theresa sniffled as she 'spread' in the stirrups, but still managed to shamelessly leak four different samples of semen into their clinical test tube. The lad got six months, the suits of justice got a laugh and Theresa Green got a new powder compact to replace the one that was broken during the crime.

Over the next three years, Theresa was raped by a further couple of hundred men and boys, but she never seemed to mind much. She even held her skirt up out of the way as yet another faceless penis drove her into the wall at the back of the garages behind the shop.

My Mam wouldn't let me out with Theresa. "Lay down with dogs and you come away with fleas my girl," she'd tell me time and again. "You're a good girl, who's going to make something of herself. Don't you go ruining yourself with the likes of that."

I saw 'Trees-are' yesterday; first time in almost twenty years. My, what a fine lady she's grown into. She walks with her legs closed; I would have expected John Wayne myself. Her clothes are expensively cut and she has been married for fourteen years. And to the same man too.

She stopped to talk to me, even offered to buy me a coffee. Fair cut me up it did; she wasn't just going to buy me one, she was going to sit and have one with me. With me! Can you believe that?

Okay. Okay, So I'm boring you. Let's get down to it then. You do look funny standing there like THAT! Are you goin' t' leave your socks on then?

Like I said, it's forty straight, sixty without a rubber and extras are fifteen quid a time.

Funny that, she was going to have coffee with me.

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