The Guardian Devil

Almost ten years ago...

Yvonne Hays stood outside the leisure centre, she leaned against the black iron railings with her cigarette almost burned down to the filter, the third and final one of the day. The smoke blended with the light from the street lamp above her, twisting and coiling amongst the faint drizzle of the early evening, her long brown hair was already matted and clinging to the sides of her prematurely aging but still pretty face.

People began pouring from the late nineteenth-century red-brick building. Children, parents, couples and one or two people who happened to leave the swimming pool or the gym just as the gymnastics club had finished and they had the misfortune to be caught up in the melee.

Camberwell Gymnastics Club had just hosted the finals of a regional competition, meaning there were far more people than usual for a Wednesday night. She scanned the faces of the departing crowd and then looked back to her feet, shod in muddy white trainers, already soaked through to her socks.

Her thoughts turned back to her past. She had just turned twenty-six and was feeling low, disappointed with choices she had made, where she had ended up and how her life had turned out so far. One choice stood out in particular.

She thought back ten years, to her school days. She had been a bright student; she was popular and was dating James, a boy that every girl at her school wanted.

Still only fifteen years old, Yvonne had taken her final GCSE exam and the summer holidays had started early, now was the time to celebrate. She had gathered with all of her school friends, including James, and they headed for Southwark Park, a large expanse of greenery with a lake in the middle.

Between them the group had managed to secure many different types of alcohol; cider, beer, cheap wine and vodka. They settled on the grass by the lake and began revelling.

She remembered raucous laughter, drinking and smoking. Anyone who walked through the park gave them a wide berth, even though they weren't hurting anyone, just enjoying themselves. Heading to Southwark Park also got them far enough from their homes in Peckham that, hopefully, no one would recognise them.

Slowly the darkness descended, daytime joggers and dog walkers became the more dubious characters of the night. Some of their group had drunk their fill, passed out or gone home, including her boyfriend, James, who couldn't hold his drink and was un-ceremoniously thrown over a friend's shoulder to be carried back to his house. Yvonne was having too much fun with her friends to go back with James, so she stayed and continued her evening.

The night brought more people, people who didn't avoid them, some who made the effort to speak to them or even join them. In their inebriated states the group saw no danger, just friendly fellow revellers enjoying their evening. They didn't see the sharks circling their prey.

Yvonne noticed her group, there were few faces she recognised anymore, but the group was still large in numbers. She had shrugged off the momentary doubt in her mind and turned back to the lovely man she was talking to at the moment.

Tall and handsome, he had a strong jaw line and muscular shoulders, she couldn't remember his name but he had a nice smile, he was older than her, early twenties she guessed. He was saying nice things, she thought, but she couldn't focus anymore, the only thing to do was what she did; she leaned in and kissed him, that's all she remembered.

She had woken the next morning on the floor of a room that wasn't hers, she recognised it though, the posters on the wall, the photos plastered around the vanity mirror, some of which she was in. She looked over to the bed to see her friend Shaznay snoring heavily, face down on her pillow. Yvonne nudged her friend awake.