Darkroom

by Poppet

  Photography, as a powerful medium of expression and communications, offers an infinite variety of perception, interpretation and execution.

  ~Ansel Adams

  It's so odd, how just doing it once can make me feel so tender. Victor really deserves more from me. I have to sort myself out. But this empty ache, I can't shake it. It's the flesh eating effect of a spider's poison.

  Except Vengeance has a soul eating toxin that he infects into his victims. How many of us are there? Is it just me?

  Groaning I roll over when I hear my familiar ring-tone emanating from beyond the bedroom door. So tempted to hide my head underneath a pillow.

  "Doug! How are you?"

  Doug? He calls Dad by his first name? Eavesdropping intently, I creep toward the door.

  "We are very well."

  "Yes she's recovering splendidly. How's Linda?"

  "Excellent news."

  "She's still sleeping, we had a late night."

  "I certainly will."

  "Did you go to St Andrews to play?"

  "Really? Yes, that bridge is magnificent."

  He laughs.

  "Golf is a gentleman's game, Doug. It always will be. And their whisky is superb."

  "I most definitely will take care of your baby girl. You just look after Linda, I'll take care of Shauna."

  "Give her our love … Yes, and Samantha too."

  "Bye."

  Fucker! Two faced arse! Dad fucking loves him. 'Give our love to Samantha.' Not in a million years.

  I'm caught mid scowl by his silent entry.

  "You're awake!"

  Lordy, he's in a good mood. "Yes."

  He leans over me, kissing me deeply, a happy smile charming his delectable face. "Your mum and dad send their love."

  "I heard."

  He pats my leg excitedly. "Come on sleeping beauty, it's a gorgeous day, and we're going on a picnic."

  Scowling even more, I tell him grumpily, "I don't want to go out looking like road kill."

  His hand possessively holds my waist, his smile infectious. "That's the beauty of it. Have you ever been to Noordhoek?"

  "What?"

  "I know, these names are strange. It means North hook. It's a long, wide, perfectly white beach on the other side of Chapman's Peak. We can easily hide away and have a quiet little picnic, without worrying about crowds. Although you might see a seal or two."

  Now I'm interested. "Really?"

  "Yes, but hurry, or we'll miss that window of opportunity."

  Smiling despite myself, I get up and dig through the closet for the skirts and blouses he's brought over. Choosing white to appease Vengeance and his fucked up God, I yank them on while Victor waxes lyrical at me.

  "We'll take a meandering scenic drive. Stunning sea views while we drive around the mountain on literally a manmade contour road. The summer wind in our hair. You can wear your straw hat and sunglasses, and no one will be any the wiser to what you've lived through." He pauses as he opens the curtains by leaning on the button, "Life is for celebrating, angel. He let you live. We're ditching that prick, and we're going to make him see that he can't get to you."

  Actually, that's a good point. Although I am feeling resentful that he has Dad's approval already. All chummy and puke-worthy. Walking with him to the kitchen where he hands me my hat and shades, picking up a basket, I probe, "You seem to like Dad."

  "I understand fathers. It's mothers I'll never fathom."

  Laughing forced cold mirth, "Just show her jewellery and she'll adore you. She's as shallow as a baby paddling pool."

  He pauses with me outside the front door. Looking down at me with an odd expression. "Are you okay?"

  "Fine." Just fucking fabulous. Would you like to fuck my sister too?

  "I'll take your word for it."

  I know he's being sarcastic, but ignore it as he laces fingers through mine and walks with me down to his always immaculately polished car. How does he do it all? He's like Superman.

  ***

  It's early still. Early enough to drive past divers kitting up on our meandering pickle over Chapman's Peak Drive. With the mountain literally kissing the left side of the vehicle, and endless ocean to the right. We're so high up, we're literally on a cliff, boxed by ancient low stone walls which hide the sheer drop on one side, and burnished yellow and brown rock running with rivulets of water on the other. She's quiet, staring with a half smile on her face at the view.

  "Why didn't I know about this?"

  "Because you only ever go out at night."

  She turns her head sharply to glare at me, "How do you know?"

  "I'm your neighbour, Shauna. And let's face it, you aren't exactly quiet when you've had a few drinks."

  Blushing uncomfortably she stares back at the view. Catching divers coming over the wall with huge shells in their hands which they're hastily depositing into buckets behind their rusty vehicle.

  She stays introspective all the way to the parking area at Noordhoek. She waits for me to extract the basket and lined blanket, then I open her door for her. She seems sore. The way she moves her legs is wooden. Disappointed, I close the door after her exit, bleep the alarm, and encase her hand with mine. Wandering down to the beach, I kick off my shoes, waiting for her to do the same. Hooking them in my hand carrying the basket, I sneak an arm around her waist, strolling romantically over powder soft sand toward the old wreck. It's a stranded landmark here. Miles of a walk along this endless stretch of blinding white sand. I know we'll have plenty of privacy there. The air is briskly fresh, salty, gulls swooping lazily toward the lush green mountain behind us.

  She laughs happily, pointing, "Look, horse riders!"

  I pause with her as she watches three riders trot past. One horse is beautifully dappled grey. A horse always reminds me of the horsemen of the apocalypse. It gives me great comfort that a day will come when the sinners are wiped off this planet permanently. Finally she resumes walking.

  Once we're comfortably spread out on the blanket, I rifle through the basket, eager to see her reaction to the contents.

  Withdrawing a flask of Kahlua coffee and the can of cream I tempt her with a question, "Thirsty?"

  "Not really."

  She's distracted with tying her hair up to prevent the wind from blowing it across her face. Unfazed. I withdraw her other favourite; spicy crumbed chicken wings. Wafting the bowl under her nose. Glancing at me she offers a faint smile.

  "Hmm, looks good."

  "Honey, what's bothering you?" Her withdrawal is unsettling me. "You can tell me anything, you know that, right?"

  "Sorry Vic, I'm just processing."

  I watch her flash me a better smile, but it's still unconvincing. Just as I finally have her persuaded to eat something, a couple stroll past us. The man is short and stocky, his wife is just as portly.

  Leaning in to tempt Shauna with another morsel of blue cheese wrapped in a date and drizzled with balsamic vinegar, the bastard stalks up to us.

  "Lady, are you all right?"

  "She's fine, thank you."

  "Listen brue, I wasn't talking to you." Leaning in he's obviously staring at the bruise exposed across the side of her face. "Are you okay? Do you need help?"

  Oh, fuck off. I eye his wife waiting behind him, wringing her hands nervously, her eyes skittishly rake over my obvious physique. "Leave them Stefan."

  Finally Shauna speaks, "I'm fine …"

  I get to my feet, asserting myself as I leer over the despicable vermin, "She's not here to be harassed by the likes of you. Back off."

  He squares up, attempting a feeble stance of intimidation. Peering past me he addresses Shauna, "Did he do this to you?"

  "Let him without sin cast the first stone," I warn the inquisitive moron, stepping closer and blocking his access to her.

  "Lady …" he continues, stepping back but needing confirmation from Shauna.

  Gripping his arm, flexing the strength in the hand that uses bricks for finger weights, I squeeze, twis
ting him and propelling him into his wife. My innuendo of him being a sinner, and myself without sin was a warning he's obviously too thick to understand. "Get lost, before I make you leave."

  His wife with the hideous clown-red hair dye snatches his hand, tugging. "Leave them. Come."

  I offer a snide grin as I watch them walk away staring at us periodically. Turning back, I retrieve the dates, settling myself with my angel again.

  I can't read her eyes now that she's replaced her sunglasses. Deciding to reassure her I tell her, "You don't have to explain yourself to strangers. It's my role to protect you. This is hard enough without you feeling scrutinised by complete strangers too."

  She takes her coffee and sips it, looking away, gazing at the ocean. Surfers frolic in the waves farther down the beach, where it becomes Long beach.

  ***

  She's been alarmingly quiet all the way home. As I replace the basket back in the cupboard she finally confronts me.

  "Are you Christian?"

  "No." I'm not. You have to believe in Christ to be considered a Christian.

  "Then why did you quote the bible at that man?"

  Turning to face her, I give her my reassurance expression. "Angel, it just popped into my head. I'm not going to censor my thinking just because you had a bad experience with someone who quotes scripture."

  "Do you sanction quoting the bible as justification for intimidation?"

  "Honey, you're being unreasonable now."

  "No, I'm not. You couldn't have behaved more like a bouncer sent by God if you'd tried! He was a concerned citizen and I'm fully capable of speaking for myself!"

  "How would you react if some asshole suggested you beat little children? That's what it amounts to. The difference in our stature is that extreme. He implied I beat you." Stepping closer I try to wrap her in my arms, but she squirms free, "You are my Eve. It was abhorrent to me that he'd suggest such a thing."

  She freezes, hoarsely challenging me, "What?"

  "For fuck's sake, Shauna. Eve was the only woman on earth. She was Adam's whole world, like you are now mine. Would you stop being so bloody defensive." Changing my tone, I kiss her stilted neck, "I'm on your side. I can't help that I have eyes for no other women. Would you prefer it if I did? Don't you prefer knowing where I am and who I'm with?" Pausing I drive my point home, "With you."

  Her frame shakes in my arms as she's reduced to tears.

  "I'm sorry. Victor, I've become so damn sensitive." Wrapping arms with constricting tightness around my neck, she buries her face away against me, "I hate him. He's messed me up."

  Chapter 31

  The beauty of women was the first expression of my photography.

  ~Alberto Korda

  Shit! Shit, shit, shit. Triple shit!

  What the hell is wrong with me? It was just once. I can't get pregnant with odds like that, surely? At least now I have an excuse. I have to take my pill for at least two weeks before it's effective.

  Hurling my pen across the lounge while Victor works quietly in his darkroom, which is off limits to me apparently. Something about chemicals. Whatever. I need to work. I need distraction. Picking up my phone I dial him, waiting for him to answer his mobile.

  "Victor … Look I'm sorry to disturb you, but I really need to distract myself from my thoughts. Can I work on your computer? Are the photos in your email?"

  "What?"

  "No!"

  "Now?"

  Staring at my phone in disbelief at the disconnecting he just initiated, I stomp angrily to wait outside the safe door which guards the darkroom. It pushes open and he strolls out. He's so tall I'll never get to see into that room. Why are artists always so finicky about the space they create art in?

  "Victor, I'm not ready!"

  "You need a distraction, and you're angry. You're seething with it. And you're taking it out on me. So let's kill two birds with one punch."

  "But last time … "

  He stops walking and turns to face me square on. "Shauna I'll stand still and let you work off your aggression. Maybe after you hit me you'll stop blaming me for what some wanker in a mask did to you."

  "I don't blame you …"

  "Yes you do. I have the weak link. I find you attractive. God fucking help me for craving you, for loving you enough to miss you."

  He carries on stalking away, pulling off his t-shirt and making me pause as I stare at his muscular back with it's perfect V receding away from me. "The fact that I corrected the damage, fed you, nursed you, isn't enough for you. I try and distract you with getting out, always being considerate of your unusual needs, and what do you do?" He swivels as he unbuttons the top button on his jeans, fuck me he's so hot when he's angry. "You persecute me! So let's work this anger out of your system. Am I allowed to at least block if I'm not allowed to hit back?"

  It's worked. He's made me sound completely ludicrous and I start laughing at him. His flashing chocolate eyes turn from hard to melting swirling softness. His face smiles back at me as I charge him, forcing him to catch me. Sucking hard on his lip before raping his mouth.

  "You need to get angry more often. You are so sexy!"

  Carrying me, kissing me, he stops and hurls me onto the bed, I'm experiencing odd vertigo being flung so forcefully backward. He flops over me as he growls teasingly, "What you need is a good spanking."

  Running my fingers over the toned lats of his back, I bite his neck, still feeling frivolous. "I'm sorry. You're right. I'm undeserving and completely hormonal."

  "You make me crazy, woman."

  The tone is serious, and I can feel the tension between us. Forced to break it I tell him the bad news, "We can't have sex for two weeks."

  "Is that all?" he smirks as he rolls away from me and kicks off his sneakers. Glancing back at me he queries, "Dare I ask why?"

  "I haven't been taking my contraception. It'll take two weeks for it to be effective."

  Smiling smugly at me he leans over and yanks open his bedside drawer, throwing tins at me. "Reality check." He stands and strips off his jeans, staring down at me with a decidedly naughty expression, "Ever heard of condoms?"

  I stick my tongue out at him, "Of course I have." Jesus he has enough for an army doesn't he? Was he hoping to get laid soon and often? Maybe he's a closet slut.

  "Good." He thrusts open a matt black closet door and extracts navy blue track pants, yanking them on he arches a challenging eyebrow at me, "Are you coming dressed like a princess?"

  "Oh, I'm coming again too, am I?"

  His smile makes my knees dissolve into mush, I'm feeling suddenly too weak to move.

  "Shauna, am I the first man to mention how confusing your signals are?"

  I feel ashamed. I do. I've treated him so poorly all things considered. "Yes." I smile wickedly. "Now didn't you say I had full permission to kick your ass?"

  "You can try."

  Pulling off my white off-the-shoulder summer blouse, I shove him back onto the bed to get to my t-shirts. "Then I'd better wear my Victor annihilation clothes." Catching him staring at me enigmatically, I challenge as I pull a white t-shirt over my head, "What?"

  All of my t-shirts are tight. And he's staring straight at the headlights. Those, stripping me and fucking me mentally eyes slide up to connect with mine, "I missed your fire, angel."

  Unzipping my skirt, I drop it as I grab lycra shorts, "Then get ready to feel the full might of a woman with issues, baby."

  I'm caught by surprise as he lifts me up to sit over his legs on the bed. Holding my chin he kisses me softly, staring so tenderly into my eyes, "Please stay. I love this Shauna."

  I twist, breaking the moment by tickling under his arms, "Get ready for an ass kicking, Superman."

  ***

  I won't risk endangering any life growing in her. Leaving the lights on this time, I hold paddles, deflecting her punches as she batters out her aggression. She's so little it's comical. I could easily show her how to disable a large man without requiring any strength at all, b
ut I won't. I don't ever intend for her to be in a position to challenge me. I won't allow her the knowledge. It's my role to protect, and conversely discipline, her. It's better this way.

  I offer a nod of encouragement as she punches with arms and wrists out of alignment. She's hurting herself with the way she's punching. It makes you easier to dominate angel. And I do so enjoy dominating you.

  I use the opportunity for a full workout. She's kept me so vigilant that my own maintenance is slipping. Using the treadmill, I start running. She sits and watches me from the mat where she's stretching. I chose this one well. She is my angel; beautiful, divine, heavenly to experience.

  Sprinting, I push myself harder. The last mile must be flat out. Feeling rejuvenated and now only mildly out of breath I switch off the treadmill, searching the equipment for her.

  "Victor, help!"

  Stupid woman! Moving quickly between the circuit I reach her, lifting the bar off her. "What are you doing? That's far too heavy for you." Not to mention I won't let your body stress and expel my embryo.

  "I want to get strong. I want to be able to hurt him back."

  "Angel, baby steps. This is going to take months. You can't just dive into the deep end. You can seriously hurt yourself, permanently. You can break your back doing that."

  Her chin quivers as she stares at my glistening torso, "I don't have months."

  "Bench press will only give you bigger boobs." I pause and wiggle my eyebrows at her, "Which I can give you for free if it's what you really want." But I'd rather see them plump with milk.

  The chin stops quivering as she smiles at me, tracing a fingertip down my skin, "Only if you want them."

  Stepping in close to her, I cup them both, "Don't change this. I love you just as you are."

  She stares up at me with trusting eyes, "You're very sexy when you've been working out."

  Arching a suggestive eyebrow I tease, "I have another muscle that requires daily workouts. You can help with that, as you're so keen on me hot and sweaty after a workout."

  She tilts her head back, eyes closing, her pixie nose embellished with the happy curve of pink lips underneath it, "I thought we already worked that one."