Double-Crossed

by Barbra Novac

  Kerin looked into Marianne's eyes. “You look okay in there. I'll tell you that you are very lucky because you've been in the best of care. There is no finer doctor than the one who's taken you under his wing. Any doctor or nurse here will tell you, just ask.”

  With that, she walked behind the desk again. Marianne gave her Medicare card to Kerin, and the nurse filled in all the necessary paperwork.

  “Take a seat, love. Really quiet this morning. You won't have to wait long, and you're in very good hands.”

  They headed to the waiting area, and both of them sat heavily into the plastic chairs there.

  “I am afraid my illness makes people feel sorry for me,” the doctor whispered to Marianne. “And they can be rather disproportionately glowing regarding my abilities.”

  However, by the end of the visit, she had reason to doubt his word. Marianne felt very well looked after in emergency, but every doctor and every nurse waxed lyrical about the doctor's efforts and how tireless and marvelous he'd been when he worked there. Even a young intern sought the doctor out to thank him for the crucial role he'd played in the intern's development.

  “Looks like I live next door to a celebrity,” Marianne whispered.

  “All in a day's work,” he said back to her in his expressionless voice.

  Marianne spent an hour in emergency before they cleared her to go home. She had no serious damage to her head, but they told her to take a week due to the shock of the experience. Kerin supplied her with a certificate for her employer.

  When they were about to leave, nurses, doctors, and orderlies came out from everywhere to say good-bye to the doctor and to wish them both a great afternoon.

  “Good Lord!” said Marianne when they were on their way. “I think you left medicine because you wanted some time alone without being mobbed by a fan club everywhere you went.”

  The doctor laughed a gurgling, coughing sort of laugh at this, and they began to walk slowly down the street to their apartment building.

  “Now, Marianne. I want to know about the man you were with last night. You have avoided telling me up until now, but I'm also a clinical psychologist, and my illness hasn't affected the part of my brain that can listen. I want the whole story, beginning to end.”

  “How about we walk back? I feel well enough to, and it will give us some time to chat.”

  The beautiful summer's day baked strength into them both, so he agreed.

  On the walk back, Marianne told him about arriving on the shores of Australia and living with Joe. She told him about the years of infidelity and suffering that she'd put up with. At one point, she felt that she might cry, and she hurried over that part of the story. As she bravely told her new friend that she wasn't worried about the cheating and the hurt that Joe had caused, she knew from the sound of her own voice that she wasn't convincing.

  They reached the apartment, and she'd only just started to talk about her current problem.

  “Marianne, do you mind if I come inside with you? I would like to hear more from you while you are feeling this flow of words. I think it will be good for you to talk at the moment.”

  “Not at all, Doctor. I'd be happy to have your company.”

  They walked into her apartment, and the doctor sat wearily in her lounge chair. She thought that he looked tired, even though she couldn't trust her ability to read the signs, and she offered him a cup of tea. He thanked her for that and then said that she needed to continue with her story.

  While making the cup of tea, Marianne told the doctor about Joe's marriage proposal and her refusal. She told him all about his promise to leave her alone and then her bumping into Peter. She told him about her dinner with Peter and that they spent the night together. She didn't tell the doctor about the nature of their play, however. She left that out, for privacy reasons, it being between just Peter and her. Finally, she ended with last night and the briefing by the team and then being followed home and Don at the door.

  “And the rest you know,” she added.

  Even under the pale skin and the expressionless eyes, Marianne felt that she could sense concern.

  “How well do you know Peter?” Dr. Zamenof asked. “Have you only met him through Joe?”

  Marianne went to correct the doctor and then stopped. She did know him through Joe. That's how they'd met.

  “Um, yes. It's only because we both know Joe. What worried you about that part of the story?”

  “Had he worked for Joe before?”

  “Not to my knowledge. But then, I seemed to have missed a lot of information with Joe. I'd never met Peter before, and certainly never laid eyes on him.”

  “It's probably nothing. Maybe I am developing a protective streak towards you. Nevertheless, it seems strange to me. He meets you just four days ago, and he sounds like he is completely dominating your life already.”

  The use of the word “dominating” made Marianne's blood freeze. That was a little too close to the bone. In response to his point, she thought of Peter's coolness toward her at the briefing.

  “I did feel a little strange last night at the briefing. His behavior seemed little odd.”

  The doctor stared at her with chilly, expressionless eyes. “Be careful. Many bad things have happened to you since Saturday night, and there is only one new person in your life. I am not saying that he's not all the things that he claims to be; I am asking you to be careful and take your time with this one.”

  At that point, Marianne's mobile phone rang. It was Peter. Looking at the doctor, she answered the phone.

  “Hello, Peter.”

  “Hello, gorgeous. I'm hoping this is your lunch break.”

  “Um, Peter, this isn't a good time. Can you call me after work? I'm not actually taking a lunch break today. In fact, I'm at home today, and I want to tell you why, but I can't just now. Will you call me after work?”

  “Of course!” Peter's voice sounded concerned. “Is everything okay?”

  “Yes, yes. Please don't worry. I don't mean to be mysterious; it's just that I'm with someone, and I can't talk just at the moment.”

  “I'll call you later.” Peter's voice sounded very worried now. “Are you sure you are all right? I can come over if you're in trouble.”

  “No, no need to do anything like that. I'm fine. Just give me a call later and that will be perfect. Okay?”

  “Okay. I'll get out of your hair. Nevertheless, I'm calling you later, and I want you to tell me what is going on. Bye for now, sweetheart.”

  Marianne couldn't help being a little thrilled when he called her “sweetheart.” Her voice warmed in response, along with rest of her body.

  “Bye. Take care.” With that, she hung up.

  “It sounds like he knows just which buttons to push. Do be careful, won't you?”

  “I really like him, Doctor.”

  “Do you mind if I ask you a very personal question?”

  “Not at all.”

  “What was the nature of the sex between you?”

  Marianne swallowed hard. She didn't expect this question, and if she tried to avoid it, he would notice it immediately. She had no choice but to answer him honestly. Nevertheless, she felt amazed that he had honed in so fast on such a crucial subject.

  “We played in an unconventional way.”

  “I think you should be specific, Marianne. I think you know why I'm asking you this question.”

  “We played BDSM style. He introduced me to submission.”

  She stayed silent for a little while as the full weight of all of this sank in for Marianne.

  “What would you like to say about that?”

  “I would like to say that I really enjoyed it. As though he understood me, deeply, and I am left with the impression that, given more time and more of it I might actually become free.”

  “Free from what?”

  Marianne started to cry. This confused her. She could feel herself falling in love with Peter, but this made everything seem ugly and wrong.


  “Free from what?” The doctor's expressionless voice sank deeper and deeper into her head like a drip wearing away a rock.

  “I guess…free from myself…all the things that I used to be.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  Then it all spilled out. Marianne told the doctor the horrible story of her upbringing. She told him she knew little of her parents, except that they were in Bangkok despite the fact they were British. Marianne suspected they were criminals. At least, that's the story she'd always told herself to explain the way they had treated her. All she knew about them came from some nuns who had taken the pregnant mother in when she cried at their gate that she'd been abandoned by the father. The nuns came out and rescued the poor woman, taking her in and caring for her through the labor. The woman stayed there for two days, and spoke not a word. At the end of the time there, she disappeared, leaving the baby and taking four hundred American dollars from the mother superior's office. She left a note saying she'd be back for the child.

  The nuns kept the baby for as long as they could while they waited to hear news. Eventually they had to put the baby in the local orphanage, to wait there for the mother everyone believed would return. The baby grew beautiful and strong, and many potential parents were refused custody based on the belief the mother would someday return. Everyone at the orphanage admired her and were glad to have to keep her with them. Although poor, a deeply likeable quality in the little girl had everyone comment that she'd likely marry very well. Then, at the age of seven, the impossible happened. A woman, claiming to be the child's mother, arrived at the orphanage. The woman told a story as she wept about being abandoned by the father and having to give birth in the nunnery. She had with her the four hundred American dollars to return—the money that she'd stolen—and asked the orphanage to check on her story with the nuns. The nuns recognized her, verified everything, and the orphanage handed the young girl over to the woman.

  As soon as they were on the streets, a man Marianne assumed to be her father joined them outside. He looked at her and smiled an oily, sideways smile at his wife.

  They went straight to a beautiful house in one of the fancier suburbs in Bangkok. Walking up the steps, Marianne felt a glow of pride and hope that now she'd live with her natural parents in this beautiful house, but when inside, she found that she was horribly mistaken.

  As soon as they were through the door, an older Thai woman came toward them, looking with hot eyes at Marianne. She pulled Marianne a little too roughly away from her mother and made her turn around. Then she lifted the little girl's dress and pulled her panties down to see her bottom. She gave it a little pat, then pulled the panties up over her bottom and pulled the dress down.

  In polished, uptown Thai, she said, “You have kept your part of the bargain. This girl is beautiful. Here is your money. Don't come back.”

  Her parents said nothing and took the envelope that the old woman held out to them. Marianne watched, helpless as they both walked through the front door and down the steps. As the door began to close, little Marianne got a strong feeling deep in her belly that if that door closed completely with her on this side of it, she would never be able to get out through it again.

  She pulled her hand out of the old woman's grasp, and before the woman could catch her, slipped through the door. Out on the street, she could see her parents. Before she could call out to them, the old woman started to holler at the top of her lungs from the top of the stairs.

  Marianne saw her parents turn and laugh at the old woman.

  “You catch her. She's yours now,” they called out, and they kept walking down the street.

  Learning the toughest lesson of her life in the shortest period, Marianne ran for all she was worth in the opposite direction. She had to get back to the orphanage.

  She ran hard and fast, and it wasn't long before she could no longer hear the sounds of the old woman screaming behind her. She didn't know where the running took her, only that night started to fall, and she was alone in the world and had no idea what to do. As she ran around a corner, she belted right into a man coming the other way.

  “Whoa, whoa! Where are you off to, little one?” The man spoke to her in Thai, but the little girl seemed too afraid to answer any questions properly. “Where are your parents?”

  She stared blankly at the man.

  The man took her to a police station, and they got the name of the orphanage from the little girl. Only two blocks away, it'd be a short trip to get her back. The man offered to take her himself, and the police were glad not to have to bother.

  Marianne started to thrill as she walked down a street that finally looked familiar. They turned into the drive of the orphanage, and there were her parents, out the front, talking with the headmistress.

  Marianne turned and ran as fast as her little legs could carry her before her parents saw her. The man ran behind her. He caught her up at the next crosswalk.

  “Looks like you don't want to go there, little one. Well, I have a woman in a house here, and I can take you back, and she will care for you until we know what to do with you. Come with me, little one. My name is Joe.”

  Marianne glossed over the rest of it.

  “He let me live with the woman till I turned sixteen. Joe lived in a magical place called Australia that he talked about all the time and promised he would take me there someday. He taught me English, and he sent me to school and paid for everything. When I turned sixteen, he told the woman who lived with me that she had to go. She caused a terrible row because she didn't want to leave, but Joe threw her out. That night, he said that he had a special birthday surprise for me. I became Joe's lover that night. I only escaped from that life four months ago.”

  “It's not a very pretty story,” Dr. Zamenof said. “You've been essentially kidnapped, then kept as a mistress.”

  Marianne, now completely exhausted, felt like crying. She felt like crying and crying more than she'd ever cried in her life.

  “Marianne, could I put to you that it might be wise for you to get some counseling before you consider a serious relationship with anyone, especially a BDSM relationship with a man that you only know because of Joe.”

  Marianne suddenly became desperate for time alone. She glanced at her watch: two in the afternoon already.

  “Do you mind very much if I have some time by myself? You've been good to me, but I feel so very tired.”

  The doctor smiled his strange, emotionless smile.

  “Of course. I am sorry that this has turned into such a strange day for you. I'm only going next door. Please come and knock if you feel depressed in any way. I don't like the idea of you being alone right now, really.”

  “I do have the rest of the week off.”

  “I think that is fortunate, Marianne. Do what you were advised to do.” He stood to go. “Depending on how you feel tomorrow, I'll go and see the hearing for you so that I can let you know firsthand how it goes. I can make a referral to a good counselor for you as well.”

  “Maybe you could counsel me. You're a clinical psychologist.”

  “Marianne, even more than a counselor right now, you need a friend. A friend not connected to anything else in your life. As it happens, I need a friend too. I think friendship is the design behind our connection. See you tomorrow.”

  Marianne opened the door for him, and without another word, he walked through. She closed it behind him.

  When he'd left the apartment, she went to her bedroom and started to cry.

  Weeping on her bed, she heard her cell phone ring. She moved to get it and saw Peter's name on the screen. For a split second, she thought she may not answer it, but she knew that would worry him, and he would be over, and she needed to be alone right now. She picked it up.

  “Hello, Peter. It isn't a good time. I thought we were going to talk later?”

  “My God. Are you crying?”

  “Um, yes, but it is okay. I've just been talking through my past with a neighbor.”
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br />   “Really? Is that whom you were with?”

  “Yes.” Instinctively she didn't tell him any more. “I've been considering going into therapy, and…well…I thought now might be a good time.”

  “I think it'll be wonderful for our relationship.”

  Without warning, Marianne's heart warmed to hearing him say “our relationship.” The words were wonderful. However, she remained so confused. The doctor had awakened her up to so much, and she felt that she couldn't really trust her feelings any more.

  “Peter, sharing is hard. I feel sleepy and like I need a good cry. Do you mind if I go right now?”

  “Not at all.” Peter sounded hurt, but Marianne couldn't talk to him now; she needed to take care of herself.

  “The preliminary hearing is tomorrow. I won't be seeing you there, but I hoped to see you tomorrow night.”

  Because she didn't know what else to say, Marianne said, “Fine. Tomorrow night it is. Good-bye.”

  Chapter Ten

  The events of the day made the night difficult for Marianne. Bitterness told her she'd cried enough for her family and her upbringing.

  In the clarity of being on her own, she could see therapy as a good idea, but she still felt that she'd already been brave about confronting the issues there. Leaving Joe had been hard. She'd taken that step with the full knowledge that it had to be done, and of that she felt proud.

  Confusion and horror filled her dreams that night. She could see herself with a large boat, trying to get it into the water, Peter by her side working with her. The doctor worked on the boat as well, but he was her enemy, and he tried to stop Peter from helping her. The homeless people Marianne saw on the streets of the Cross huddled together inside, broken and needing to be rescued. Even the colors and the smells of the dream were vivid; Marianne felt confronted to the core.

  She woke in the middle of the night and wrote the dream detail down in a journal, by her bed. Reading back over it, her belly crawled with the same fear that visited her during the dream. Could Peter be trusted? They shared a powerful connection, to be sure, but she'd already had cause to doubt his word.