You didn't go there, wearing these colours, did you?

When Sue had married Martin, she knew that he'd travel a lot, because he was still doing military service. His last tour was meant to end that summer. He had been abroad for long and they only met when he returned for his holidays. He'd even build his future during these short times. But soon they would spend the rest of their lives together. She wanted to collect him on his way back home. They would meet in Belfast and get away from there. She had friends in Belfast. This would be the third year in a row that she would see them. They were Catholics, but that didn't matter to her. She was not interested in these details.

She was not Catholic, and in Belfast that could be good or bad, depending on which side of the pavement you chose to walk on. But she didn't know about that and wouldn't have cared, if she had. Maybe ignorance was her second name, maybe it was trust in the good will of people. All that she had to know was that she could feel safe, because she was only a tourist in this city. She'd be fine.

Sue remembered some of the stories Martin had told her, where people got hurt, soldiers, civilians from both sides and the people he called 'the others'. He had told her that times have become better in Ulster and there were less people killed every year. She had remembered that each time she had visited, there were some reports about bombs and violence. She had never had problems in Belfast, but then again, she was not English. Even though this peace had already lasted six years, she knew that being English was still like a crime in some quarters of the city. The people from Belfast listened to what someone said, no, they listened to how you'd say things, they listened for the sound of what you'd say. They'd hear whether you were Lancashire or Yorkshire, Dublin, Derry or Kent. Then they decided what you were, friend or foe. English or not. For the Union or against it. These questions  still mattered in some quarters of the city. Sue knew that, because Martin had given her instructions where never to go. 'Don't tell anybody that you know a soldier. Never ever tell your Belfast friends about my job.' She had promised and stuck to that. The only two who knew were her two friends, whom she trusted. I think Sue trusted everybody, but Martin had told her never to reveal anything concerning him. It might kill her and him. 

The evening before she would meet Martin in an unconspicuous pub near Queen's University, she had been out with her two friends. They had this queer look when she came to the nice little pub in one of the less wealthy streets of town. Maybe this was one of the streets where she should not be, but nevertheless Sue had enjoyed the stroll through the streets,  as she went to the pub. She enjoyed to see kids play, she watched those murals and wanted to memorize all she could, because she already knew that she would not be back to Belfast for a long time. The thought saddened her, because she would not see her friends again, maybe for years.

It was warm, it was pleasant, but everybody looked at her, as if she was an alien. Well, she was, she didn't live here. Some brawny men had looked at her with contempt. Did she hear rude comments? But they did not stop her, though their eyes followed her as she went along the little working class houses. She thought they were strange, but didn't care, when she finally had reached the little pub where she'd meet her friends. As she entered, it became noticeably quieter. As if a  gush of cold air had entered with her. Someone held a drunk man at the bar who was waving a bottle into her direction, as if he wanted to fight her, out of all people. Many eyes followed her, when she came in and went to meet her friends. Yes, and they had this queer look. "You didn't come here dressed like that!" Sue was surprised. "What do you mean? What's wrong?" She had no idea. The answer came with a very low voice "Sue, you look like a walking Union Jack. You are dressed in Unionist colours from head to toe. Are you mad!? In this street that could mean trouble. You are lucky to be still in one piece!" Sue didn't know what her friend meant. She liked blue and white and the red was not too much, it was only a little bit. "Give me your jacket. You can't wear it here. It's dangerous." She gave her friend the jacket and found an overdimensional crocheted cap in her hand. "Wear this one. They are the right colours. Nobody will ask questions if you wear this." Sue made a face as if she'd had been bitten. "But the colours don't match with my dress." She put the cap on. The noise rose again in the pub. When she went home later, she had the cap on. She still felt the eyes, or at least she imagined that they were there. Some men stood at the street corners, eyeing her conspicuously. 

The next morning she woke up and was over-excited. 'Martin, I can't wait to see you. We will be on our way home by tomorrow morning', she thought. Sue dressed, and this time she'd make sure her colours matched. She knew where she could spend the afternoon, before she would meet Martin in the evening. She went through the streets, and again she felt eyes on her. But why? She was not even close to the quarters where they had eyed her so suspiciously yesterday. She'd worn the cap she had got almost all day long. It had been warm for her, but she kept it on, because she didn't want to end up in trouble. And still, the people looked at her in a rather hostile way. Strange, this was the first time ever she had felt that here. Somewhere behind she heard a bottle of glass crash on the pavement. 'Silly kids' she thought and went on happily.

In the evening she went to meet Martin in the pub, finally. Before she went there, she'd made sure her colours would match nicely. As she came closer to the club, she could see some men with beer glasses in their hands, rise. All eyes were on her, not really as friendly as most people looked at her usually. The men all had short hair. 'Military', she thought. She was in the right place. Those men were dressed like civilians, but she knew what they were. Some wore T-shirts that barely hid their tattoos. It looked as if they wouldn't let her enter the pub. "Ey, what do you want here, get lost!" She was pushed away from the entrance. "Let me in, my husband is in there!" The huge man made big eyes. Obviously, he did not believe a word of what she had said. Compared to his size, she looked like a child. He eyed her from head to toe and grabbed her handbag. "Let me see if you have a package in there." Sue let it happen. She did not even protest. If she wanted to get in there, she'd better let him do that. This guy was not alone and some others looked at her with contempt. She had no idea why this could be. They were Martin's colleagues, weren't they? They should be on friendly terms with her. Sue frowned when the brute had finished searching her bag, but had found nothing. 'What had he expected? A bomb? Idiot'. Finally they let her in.

Martin sat inside, in the back. When he saw Sue, he choked on his beer. She grinned and went to his little corner. Martin was not amused as he stood up and let her sit down. "Sue, what are you doing?!" Was that a  question? No greeting? She was not sure what he meant. "I went shopping along Shankill Road. But the people were queer today, very unfriendly. Just like here." She showed to the door. "They wouldn't let me in and searched my bag." Martin smirked lightly. "You bet they did. You say Shankill Road? But you don't tell me that you went there in these clothes, do you?" She looked down her white blouse. "No, I changed for the evening, but the colours were the same." Martin almost choked again as he shook his head. "You didn't go along Shankill Road wearing t h e s e colours, did you?" Sue frowned. She didn't understand anything. "Sure I did. My friends told me that I should wear this cap to avoid problems with the local people." "Sue,  these are republican colours. You are wearing green, white and orange while you walk along a Unionist road and here, in a Unionist pub. This is outright dangerous. You are lucky that you are still in one piece. I can't believe that you provoked everyone for hours and you can still walk. Your guardian angel has worked overtime today." Sue was completely puzzled. "Give me this cap and take my jacket.  Let's get out of here, before anybody is too drunk to stop themselves from teaching you a lesson. That's my part, in my hotel room." Sue did as told. She had no idea. As Martin said his goodbyes to his colleagues, she waited, embarrassed as they looked at her, some with disgust in their eyes. Martin alleviated the hostility that the men had developed against Sue by spending them all a round of beer. Then the two of them went to the hotel. 

This was not what she had anticipated. She felt embarrassed, because she had disappointed Martin so much. It was dangerous? She didn't get it. Darn politics. Sue felt that Martin was angry with her, seriously. As he closed the door of their room behind him, her shoulders slumped forward, because she felt under pressure. Martin came close and turned her to face him. "Sue, I love you. If anything had happened today, I would never have forgiven myself. I am glad and happy that you are here in one piece, alive." She thought that he had taken her rather dangerous mistake pretty well. She  had hoped too early, though. "But for what you did today, I am going to spank you soundly. Your life was in real danger. You did  not see that, but that was only because you have been completely thoughtless. It could have killed you. I cannot stand this thought. Undress. Now!" He had taken her by surprise with that. She made big eyes as she looked at Martin, but he was serious. She had been punished before and she dreaded what was going to happen. Martin could spank really hard, if he felt he had to. And one look in his face told Sue that this was one of those times. He'd teach her to listen closely. Darn politics. Darn thoughtlessness. Slowly Sue undressed.

As she stood there in his hotel room, naked, she watched him look at her for a long moment. He sat on the bed, while she stood there. She felt her vulnerability more consciously than she had for a long time. Her head bent slightly forward, unvoluntarily. "Martin, I am really sorry. I didn't know that I had made a mistake." Martin breathed in audibly. "God, Sue, you are so beautiful, you know what I'd like to do with you now. But this is not a little mistake. You blundered completely. Even your two Catholic friends could be in real trouble because they have been seen with you. This is very serious and you'll listen better in the future. Believe me. Come here, hands on the bed and stand still."

Sue did as told. she stood there, bent forward and listened what sound would follow. Martin couldn't possibly have brought implements here? Into the hotel? He was out of his barracks the first night. She heard the familiar sound of his belt. Ah, so this is what it would be. Secretly she had hoped that she'd only receive a spanking by hand.  He'd do that with her over his lap. It was intimate and even during punishment, she felt better over his lap. Standing, bent down, was somehow more distanced for her. When that happened, Martin was seriously angry. But she had seen that he had also been afraid. Not for himself, no, for her. Sue bent down over the bed and felt her first tear fall. She had not been punished yet, but she was angry with herself and sad, because she had endangered her friends and disappointed Martin. He could have left her with that thought. It was punishment enough. Hiss, the belt struck for the first time. Sue could barely hide a smile,  a very distorted one, though. She needed this now. It was her ticket out of guilt and frustration. This had become crystal clear with the first pain she received. She noticed Martin saying something to her "...listen carefully next time." Hiss, the belt struck again. Sue felt her face redden, she felt as if she had no air left 'Boy, this is really rough' she thought and tried to focus on Martin's words "People have been killed here for less", swat, swat, swat. Sue let her head fall down, because she felt so miserable by now. But still, the burning pain was something she embraced in this moment. She cried, she let her frustration go. Swat, swat, swat. Slowly she found peace. Swat, swat, swat. She did not move, her sense of time was lost. Her mind was focused on the pain and then it had ended. Why did it stop? Were her tears empty? She didn't move, because Martin had not said so. She blinked her eyes open, saw where her tears had drenched the blanket. As she drifted back into reality, she noticed far more how much her bottom burned. She felt so raw that she knew she would not sit properly for days. If anything, she'd have a good reminder to listen closely to what Martin had to say. "Stand up, Sue." Sue did as told and turned around to face Martin. 'His voice is still stern.' She was not sure whether she should look him in the eyes or only be embarrassed. No, she had received her punishment. So, this was over. She looked up. New tears welled up in her immediately. 'His eyes looked worried. ' Sue tried to speak, but could only mumble her "thank you", as her tears drowned everything else. Martin pulled her closer and kept her in his arms. She snuggled as deep as possible into his embrace and lost track of time again. The next time she moved, it was already dark. They must have stood there for ages. Sue felt exhausted. She felt the heat in her bottom, his embrace and a gentle, welcome cool breeze. In the dark, she looked up at him and gave him a faint smile. Martin took her, put her into the bed and she fell asleep before he had covered her under the blanket.

Instead of going to bed, he switched on the tv-news. "...road two people died in a bomb attack this evening ..." Martin switched the tv off again, looked at Sue for a very long moment and put his black bagpack next to his side of the bed. "Tomorrow we are out of here", he said quietly. Still dressed, he lay down next to Sue.

Some of you know what's going on with me, when I write such things; this here definitely is a distraction from different things, and writing this way is a first-timer.

I am not good at politics, though I think I got the basic idea of political factions in Ulster somehow right. For me it is complicated stuff. Nevertheless, I apologize if I offended some by appearing partial. I wanted a certain point of view only as part of the plot, not to belittle or demean any political opinion at all.