Debbie reunited in this chapter- hurray!
Enjoy
"YOU BITCH!" Jasmine flew across the room, hitting her back on the table. Shane walked towards her, a bull to Jasmine's red. He lunged for her. Jasmine dodged quickly, screaming. She ran out of the front door, Shane in pursuit.
"COME BACK HERE! WRETCHED SLATTEN!" He shouted as he ran after her. Jasmine ignored him, not looking back as she ran and ran.
She ran for miles and miles, tripping and landing in the familiar arms of a girl. Jasmine looked up, too shocked to even produce speech, at the brunette that had held her thoughts for 4 months.
"Jasmine… are you alright?" Debbie asked, lifting Jasmine up to stand. Jasmine teetered on her feet for a few minutes, before keeling, being caught again by Debbie, who swung Jasmine's arm over her own shoulder, helping Jasmine to Tug Ghyll, her residence.
Tug Ghyll was small, but it was humble. Debbie helped Jasmine in, to help her lie down on the floor.
"I missed you…" Debbie smiled at her ex- lover. Jasmine nodding, swallowing thickly. "I got a job working at the horse stables over at Emmerdale Horse Races." Debbie told her, trying to spark a conversation.
"I missed you too… Debbie…" Jasmine said finally, feeling almost like crying. When she finally mustered up the strength, she wrapped her arms around Debbie's neck, pulling her in for a tight hug. "I really missed you!" Jasmine sobbed onto Debbie's shoulder.
"I used to watch at the stables to see if there was any sign of you, but there wasn't. I watched for months…" Debbie told her. Jasmine carried on sobbing.
"Uncle Ashley made me marry Lord Doyle. He abuses me… all the time… I have bruises and cuts and fractures…" Jasmine said, sadly. Debbie looked down sadly.
"I know we aren't romantically involved or anything, Jas… but can I have a look, to see how bad the bruises are?" Debbie asked softly. Jasmine smiled at the old nickname. She nodded, allowing Debbie to sit behind her and carefully untie the lace of the dress and corset, allowing Debbie to see the golden olive toned skin, threaded with cuts and blotched bruises.
Debbie ran her fingertips gently over each cut a bruise, Jasmine whimpering softly if the bruise or cut was too sensitive. Debbie wanted more than anything, to take the pain away. She knew that it would take time; she had no doubt that Jasmine would become strong again. She knew that Jasmine was strong.
Debbie leant down softly, kissing each bruise on Jasmine's tiny back, making sure not to miss a single one. Jasmine may have kept whimpering in slight pain, but Debbie knew that this simple gesture was already making her feel better. Debbie helped Jasmine up, leading her to the other room, where a dingy 4 poster bed resided.
"Not what you're used to… but there's good money in looking after the horses at the races." Debbie said, grabbing Jasmine's hand softly and getting her to lie down on her stomach. Debbie grabbed an old shirt, for after she had helped soothe Jasmine's aches and pains.
Debbie unfastened Jasmine's corset, throwing it aside and walking out to the well, collecting a pale of water and returning, ripping an old cloth and dipping it in the water, placing strips over Jasmine's back. Once Debbie had placed strips on every visible bruise, Debbie sat stroking Jasmine's hair softly, turning over the strips every so often.
She's the light of my life. She saves me from the evils that Doyle had bestowed upon me. I'm so glad that I have my gorgeous Debbie. She looks after me, and I her. I think I want to marry her, but unfortunately I cannot, considering I would be a bigamist, already being Jasmine Doyle. I wish I wasn't, I wish I was Jasmine Dingle, not the disgusting alternative name I have as my surname now. If I could turn back the clock, that day in the stables, I would, tell Debbie, tell her that we could run away, as far as the sky would take us. As far as possible for man to search. We could have had a life. I could have been her wife. Alas… it is not foretold that fate could strike.
R+R