Here Comes Tomorrow...
The sound of the record playing on the radio was all Mary could hear as she sat at her dresser, combing her blonde hair twenty times on each side just as she did every night before going out.
Up at eight, you can’t be late,
For Matthew and Sons, he won’t wait,
See them run down to platform one,
For the eight thirty train to Matthew and Sons
“I know that feeling,” Mary said to herself as she looked in the mirror, applying the black eyeliner with a soft brush. She worked as a wages clerk at the local factory, and the run-up to pay day was always a busy time - double checking the wages envelopes, making sure the forms had all been filled out properly, and making sure the whole package was safely locked away before she left for the night.
“Still,” she thought to herself as the music continued in the background, “at least it is all ready for tomorrow.” She smiled as she put the eyeliner brush down, and picked up a stick of ruby red lipstick, applying it over her lips so that she had a red sheen as she puckered up. “Tonight I get to relax.”
Standing up, she walked to the bed and picked up the new dress she had picked up in the boutique last weekend. It was a silver shift dress, with a thin silver leather belt, and as she slipped it over her head she looked at herself in the mirror, the skirt of the dress barely covering her lower regions. It sparkled in the light, and was nicely offset by the white stockings she was wearing on her legs.
“I knew it would fit,” she said to herself as she walked to the wardrobe and took out a pair of white knee length leather go-go boots, pulling them on and then admiring the way she looked, before returning to the dressing table. Lying on the top was a white silk square, about two foot along each side, which she folded into a band and tied over her hair, the ends falling down her neck.
There was a knock on the door of her flat. “Coming,” she called out as she walked into the corridor, her heels clicking on the wooden floor, and there was a huge smile on her face as she opened the door.
As she saw her visitors for the first time, the sound of Paul Jones was playing on the radio.
I'm not the man you think I am
I've given you warning
You wake up and find me gone
Some sunny morning
“Hello Paul,” she said as she opened the door, “come on in - I won’t be a moment, and Sandra should be here soon as well.”
“Sounds great,” Paul said as he came in. He was six foot tall, and dressed in a dark jacket over a white roll necked sweater, dark trousers and black leather boots with Cuban heels. As Mary closed the door, he waited and then kissed her as she stood there.
“That would be lovely,” he said as they walked to the main room...
Sandra knocked on the door, tapping her toes as she heard the music coming from the other side of the door.
Please release me, let me go,
For I don’t love you any more...
The door opened and she was surprised to see Paul standing there, smiling as he looked at Mary’s friend.
“Hello, Sandra,” he said as he held the door open, “Mary’s in the room, waiting for you. Can I take your coat?”
“Thank you,” Sandra said as she unbuttoned her black leather coat and handed it to Paul, who hung it on the coat rack. She was wearing a black pinafore dress over a silver roll necked jumper, and a pair of knee length skin tight leather boots which came up to her knees.
“The radio is a bit loud, Paul - what will the neighbours think?”
“Only that she has her boyfriend round, and they are listening to some music. Come along - she’s desperate to meet you.” Paul put his arm round Sandra’s shoulder and walked her into the front room, only for her to gasp as she saw Mary.
“I’m sorry, Sandra, I’m so sorry,” she said from her position in the hanging chair, unable to move or stop Paul as he placed his hand over Sandra’s mouth.
“Not a word, Sandra,” he whispered into her ear as her eyes opened wide, “I just need you to do what I tell you to do, all right?”
Sandra slowly nodded as she heard a record from The Move start to play.
The silent night has turned to a night
With windows howling wind into your ear
You listen to the spirits far behind
These things you hear are too much for your mind
“Please, Paul,” Mary said as she tried to move her arms, “Don’t do this to us.” Her wrist were crossed behind her back and bound together with a length of thin cord that he had produced from his jacket pocket, before he had found a coil of washing line while searching in the kitchen. He had used part of that to bind her arms tightly to her side, the bands around her chest stretching her dress over her, before making her sit in the white hanging seat before the knocking had announced Sandra’s arrival.
She kicked her legs around, trying to find some way to get out as Paul guided Sandra’s arms behind her back and started to bind her wrists together, the parachute cord biting slightly in to the soft flesh of her bare wrists as he did so. “Don’t cry, Sandra,” he said as she felt her arms being held together, “You both look so fetching like this, that I think you will like it.”
“I don’t understand,” Sandra said as she looked at Mary, “Why is he doing this to us? What is he planning to do?”
“Well,” Paul said as he started to wrap another length from the washing line around Sandra’s arms and chest, “My friends and I are planning to steal the wages from Mary’s company tomorrow, but I wanted her out of the way, so you’re both going to be spending the night here as - well, as my prisoners, I suppose.”
“Your prisoners? Please - don’t hurt me anymore,” Sandra whimpered as she felt the rope going around her waist, forcing her wrists against the small of her back, and then another length encircling her arms and stomach as he fed it around and between her elbows and her chest. A third length went around her arms above her chest, holding them firmly to her side as he passed the rope under her shoulders to tighten it.
“There now,” he eventually said as he tied the rope off, and sat Sandra down on the leather recliner, “Now don’t move.” Picking up the rope, he cut two further lengths off, and walked over to Mary, passing the rope around her legs below her knees and pulling them together as he reached up and kissed her.
Mary’s eyes widened as she felt her lips against his, but she could not help herself from responding, pressing her mouth against his as he tied the rope off, and then crossed her ankles before tying them together, the rope squeaking over her leather boots.
Sandra was crying softly, the pigtails of her long black hair falling over her shoulders and the white rope bands as she watched her friend being secured. Paul then returned to her, moving her legs as she found herself falling onto her side before he crossed and started to bind her ankles tightly together as well.
As he bound her legs, Mary said “Paul, you can’t expect us to spend the whole night here! What if we need to go to the toilet or something?”
“I’ll let you go - but only for a moment,” he said as he took a roll of brown sticking plaster from his pocket. “now, I need to make sure you two fine ladies cannot call for help - I assure you this is only a temporary measure.”
“You don’t have to do that,” Sandra said as she watched him tearing a strip off. “I promise we will be good and quiet.”
“I know you will,” he said as he kissed her, and then smoothed the plaster over her mouth, before walking over to Mary. She tried to sit back and stay out of his way, but he merely smiled as he leaned in and gagged her as well.
“Now be good,” he said as he walked out of the room, “and let Radio Luxembourg entertain you.” The two women tried to scream at him, especially as the Rolling Stones were being played.
Let’s spend the night together...
Mary squirmed round in the seat as she heard the sound of Paul searching through her rooms, and then looked at Sandra, the dark stain of her mascara on her cheeks as she cried from her prone position. She wanted to help her, to comfort her, but she dare not try to get out for fear she may hurt herself...
Mary suddenly opened her eyes as she felt something tugging at her skin around her mouth. The room was lit by her large lava lamp, sending multicoloured swirls around the room, and she could see Sandra sleeping on the recliner.
“What time is it,” she said as Paul lifted her out of the seat and carried her into the bedroom.
“Five in the morning,” he said quietly, “My friends will be coming to collect me soon, but I wanted to make you to more comfortable first.”
“Are you going to untie us,” she whispered as he laid her gently on the bed.
“No - but I am going to leave you together, with a chance to free each other eventually. I still need to gag and make it difficult, however.” She watched him as he picked up one of her scarves, a large blue triangle that she used to cover her hair when she was working around the house, and folded it into a band before tying a large knot in the middle of it.
“Do you have to,” she said as she looked at Paul. He nodded as he said “Open wide, let me do this, and then I will bring Sandra to join you.”
“all right - but please, be gentle,” she whispered before she opened her mouth and allowed Paul to push the knot into her mouth, pressing her tongue down as she raised her head and allowed him to tie the scarf around her head. She then watched him as he left, trying to find the knot with her fingers before he returned, carrying Sandra in his arms.
She was still sleeping as he laid her beside Mary, facing her before he went and selected a second scarf. this one was a large brightly patterned square, basically orange in colour but with flashes of purple, yellow and white, so that it looked like two flowers on the psychedelic background.
Folding it into a thick band, and tying a knot in the middle, he peeled the tape away from Sandra’s mouth before gently easing the knot into her mouth and tying the scarf around her head.
Sandra mumbled softly as he took a second scarf, this one a long silk band of alternating black and white stripes, and then tied it tightly over her eyes, making a blindfold before he allowed her head to rest gently on the pillow.
“Swhthpnsnsnw,” Mary mumbled as Paul reached under her hair and removed the white scarf that had held it back. “I am truly sorry I lied to you,” he said as he leaned down and kissed Mary on the forehead, “but I needed to do so. I hope you find someone who loves you for yourself.”
Mary looked at him, then raised her head as he bound the scarf tightly over her eyes, nestling her head on the other pillow as she heard him walk away.
From the doorway, Paul looked at both girls. There was one thing he had not told them - that he had being told to select one of them as a hostage to force the manager to open the safe, as well as his wife and daughter. Even now he could imagine the scene - his wife, with her grey hair in a hairnet, and the twenty year old daughter, sitting in the front room of their large house on the outskirts of town as his friends bound and gagged both of them. He had left a pair of scissors within reach of whoever was left, and was sure they would eventually work the blindfold off, while the other would be left at the factory.
The thing was, which one was he going to take? As he stood there, a song started to play on the radio.
Mary oh what a sweet girl,
Lips like Strawberry Pie...
Mary mumbled from her position on the bed, her rouged lips still covering the blue cloth that nestled in her mouth.
Sandra, long hair and pigtails...
Sandra moved around on the bed and started to try and call out through the large multicoloured knot in her mouth as Mary mumbled words to calm her down. Paul rubbed his eyes and tried to make a choice as the song continued.
Well I see all kinds of sorrow,
Wish I only loved one.
Look out, here comes tomorrow,
Oh how I wish tomorrow would never come, oh no...