by P. G. Burns
“Why don’t we simply enquire of him what he is doing?” asks Baal.
Chamuel responds. “It was only by coincidence that we found him. Levi was with Amitiel in Constantinople when they both sensed the presence.
“Expecting Reuben or Ben to appear, they were both shocked to see this strange young man race around the corner followed by two guards who seemed to be trying to apprehend him. Amitiel has since learned that he is planning a trip around the East with his so-called father. I shall meet with this traveller myself. Incognito, of course. I will get to the bottom of this before he leaves for the East, if we are all agreed?”
Chamuel shrugs as his sign of agreement; Raphael nods then looks to Baal who also nods in agreement, even though his face doesn’t show it.
“Excellent. Now if you have no further business I will call the meeting to a close.”
Stoke Prison
1913 – President Woodrow Wilson publishes “The New Freedom”, a collection of speeches in which he reveals: “Since I entered politics, I have chiefly had men’s views confided to me privately. Some of the biggest men in the U.S., in the field of commerce and manufacturing, are afraid of somebody, are afraid of something. They know that there is a power somewhere so organized, so subtle, so watchful, so interlocked, so complete, so pervasive, that they had better not speak above their breath when they speak in condemnation of it.”
Shane sits alone, hunched over a letter that he holds loosely in his hand. He contemplates the events that have led him here, in this bastard prison with only the ranting of a madman to keep him amused.
Shane has been avoiding Leo today. Well, not just Leo; he is avoiding everyone. It is exactly a year to the day that his reaction to something left him serving this six-year sentence. He should have known at the time that life was going too well and something was bound to happen to fuck it all up. And something did.
After meeting Sara, Shane had gone from drinking and fighting in the roughest bars in Manchester to attending charity galas, book launches and theatres together with this beautiful, intelligent, and fun young woman. Shane was very happy and very content with his new life. It was like he was finally leading the life he ought to be living. Sara had somehow tapped into another Shane, the little boy who loved looking after his baby sister, who played out for hours with friends from the estate and found so many things funny.
Not only that, but Sara could relate to his grief too. Even though she had been only six at the time she remembers crying so hard she couldn’t breathe when her mother died. This beautiful woman who loved her unconditionally had suddenly become poorly. But people usually got better when they got sick and the young Sara always believed that her mummy would soon be up and about again. Unfortunately the monster called cancer did not let her mother get better. Instead it left behind a six-year-old girl, alone and vulnerable with no one even to wipe the tears away. It was her hatred of cancer that drove Sara to study medicine and she hoped she could save every little girl’s mummy so that those little girls wouldn’t have to grow up with the same sense of loss that Sara had.
Amazingly Sara managed to get Shane to open up about Chloe. He realised that since she’d died he hadn’t spoken to a single person about her. Not because he didn’t want to but because no one had ever cared enough to ask. There were a lot of tears when he finally let loose his pent-up feelings and again he pondered that he’d never before cried for the person who he’d loved most in the world, not one tear. Somehow this eventual release of emotion seemed to stabilise his mind. The anger and frustration he’d felt all his life slowly diminished and was tucked away in a little corner.
It was replaced by joy, something Shane had not experienced in a long, long time. Although he didn’t have any proper qualification, Sara helped him find work in a tattoo parlour owned by a friend. Shane loved exploring his artistic side, a talent that the parlour owner commented on often. “Never seen anyone create art like that one,” he would tell his clients.
Soon word got around about the amazing tattoos Shane created. Some people would be dubious when realising it was the nutter who they use to avoid like the plague when out on the town, but after sitting with him as he decorated their bodies they soon found him to be a polite, well-spoken and funny human being. Who would have guessed such a big change could occur in such a short time? Nowadays Shane hardly drank, never took drugs and had not had a cross word with anyone since the day he met Sara. Even when a burly Hell’s Angel walked in calling Shane every name under the sun for beating up his brother a few years back, Shane had politely apologised, offering the man a free hit or a free full-colour forearm tat. Thankfully he took the tattoo and was so impressed by the artwork that he insisted on paying.
Sara worked late hours so Shane learned to cook. He wanted to look after this person who had transformed his life. When she came home it was all he could do to keep his hands off her. Not that Sara minded. She was just as happy as Shane with the transformation in her life and, besides the occasional whispers behind her back about the psycho she was dating, only good had come from her meeting him – or so she thought.
Sara was a high performer. She had passed all her exams a year early at school, got top grades in her A-levels and passed her medicine degree at Manchester with a first. As well as this she was also a concert-level violinist and a talented skier too. She was even asked to represent Great Britain in the 2002 Winter Olympics but she turned it down to follow her passion in medicine.
She had dark brown hair, green eyes and pale porcelain skin. “You’re an English rose with fantastic tits,” is how Shane answered her when Sara once asked “What do you see in me?” Shane saw so much more in her though, he loved the way she looked, the way she smiled, the way she moved, but mostly he loved the fact that she cared, not just about him but about things, people, the world, even animals. To top it all she was fun, not the sort of fabricated fun Shane had grown to depend on, but pure unadulterated joy. She laughed and made everyone else laugh. Shane loved her, really, really loved her.
Sara also genuinely loved Shane. He was not like any man she had met before. She could admit to herself that most, if not all, of her previous relationships involved doing what was expected of her. Yes, she’d had a couple of “fuck buddies” while at university, but then her “proper” relationships were all set up by friends and colleagues and seemed to fit a preordained narrative that a professional girl like her should follow rather than what she really wanted. Shane was not in the script at all, she knew her friends and family would object to everything about him.
Just like Shane was instantly attracted to her, Sara was drawn to Shane from the moment she first laid eyes on him. She was on duty the night he was admitted, battered and bruised, his face a purple and black ballooning mess, his torso torn and several broken bones and teeth for good measure and yet she was somehow smitten. It was while another doctor stitched a wound in his abdomen without anaesthetic in case he was drunk that Sara hung around and took his hand, hoping to comfort him through what she was sure would be unbearable pain. She fully expected this powerful-looking man to squeeze the life out of her hand but instead he ran his thumb gently across the soft skin behind her knuckles and looked at her as the stitches went in, smiling as if only the two of them were there.
“What’s your name?” he asked.
“I’m Sara, erm, I mean… Doctor May.”
“I prefer Sara.”
That was it. He smiled and throughout the whole operation fixed his eyes on her with not even a grimace of pain, just a look of wonderment. Sara too just stared, hoping the nurses and doctors didn’t cop on to her childlike infatuated gazing.
As he got better Sara would look in on him and at first stayed professional when he made his remarks and obvious advances because a doctor must not engage romantically with a patient. However, after a few weeks Shane was released and Sara had no doubt they would meet again.
She was actually a little panicked whe
n she did not bump into him during the first couple of weeks, but then at the gym while she was coming out of her yoga class covered in sweat with no make-up on and her hair bunched on the top of her head like a pineapple, there he was. Sara wasn’t sure whether he had seen her and was in two minds whether to hide from him or jump on him. She remembered her midriff showed between the sports bra and leggings she was wearing. Damn, why did I eat that bowl full of ice cream? she asked herself.
Shane spotted her the second she left the studio, beads of sweat glistening off her glowing skin, gorgeous curly locks and what a body. He knew she had seen him and for a moment feared she was going to ignore him. Then finally she came over.
“Hello Shane, I didn’t know you were a member here.”
“I am a member here… and every other gym this side of town.”
Sara looked puzzled at his reply, not sure if he was trying to crack a joke.
“What do you mean?”
Shane was nothing if not observant and he’d known straight away that this girl must go to a gym, not because of the slim athletic body – that could be genetics – instead he’d observed the concave back and straight shoulders, the pert gluteus and flat stomach; every bit of her taut and toned. These things need work, and yoga was the most likely form of exercise to achieve this condition.
“I have been joining gyms all over town looking for you,” he said. “This is one of five I attend every week hanging around outside yoga classes hoping you’d be at one so I could casually bump into you.”
Shane was aware that by confessing this he was actually ruining this marvellous plan and possibly making himself sound like a bit of a stalker. He could hear his own voice telling him to shut up but still he rambled on.
“There are lots of classes at different times. In fact this is the sixty-seventh class I have waited outside.” (SHUT THE FUCK UP! he screamed in his head.)
Shane looked at Sara, determined not to speak again until she did. There was a moment of awkward silence before she looked to the ground then back up to him.
“I am on Facebook.”
“Yeah, that probably would have been easier.”
Shane gave a childlike smile and Sara let out an uncharacteristic girly giggle, then they both laughed.
“So can I buy you a drink?” he asked.
“Well, I suppose after sixty-five classes it would be rude to say ‘no’.”
“Sixty-seven.”
From that very first night any worries that Sara had about this being a “bad boy makes the heart beat fonder” syndrome were completely put to bed. They went to a quaint jazz bar called Misty’s and soon relaxed in each other’s company. Shane listened intently to Sara, genuinely interested in her job, her loves, her hates, her hobbies… just everything. Sara had never felt this comfortable around anyone. She found herself opening up, telling him everything, even her most intimate secrets. However, she was aware that anything she had to say was not going to compare to Shane’s confidences, which she sensed would be deep and dark and best left for now. After the bar he walked her home and gently kissed her cheek goodnight, not attempting to make a play. He asked if he could see her again. For a moment Sara felt she was in one of her favourite movies, she was Audrey Hepburn, he was George Peppard. It was only when he turned to leave that she went out of character – not for Hepburn, but for Sara.
“Why don’t you come up? It’s still early.”
By the time they’d climbed the four flights of stairs and crossed the threshold they both were caressing and kissing wildly. She felt any thought of virtuous resistance melt as his hands clasped either side of her waist and lifted her with ease, her beating heart pulled against his chest. Moments later she was pointing the direction of the bedroom and with his usual enthusiasm Shane crashed through the door, tearing at his clothes as she pulled her dress off, losing a couple of buttons in the process. He pushed her naked body onto the bed as he removed his final items of clothing. He paused for a minute, taking stock of his unbelievable luck then he collapsed down on her.
Shane had been with many women and believed he knew how to please them; his sheer animalistic aggression and physical stature seemed to do the trick with his previous encounters; no one had ever complained. Sara’s words were not really a complaint but she knew what she liked and she was not shy about telling him.
“Slow down, let me show you.”
Sara guided Shane and showed him a slower way to enjoy the passion. Soon she was swaying on top of him, her hair falling down across her face as she followed a rhythm that would bring them both to the plateau of carnal pleasure. Shane was both surprised and comfortable with the feelings he was experiencing. This act he had taken part in many times was suddenly taking on a whole new level of intimacy. He felt powerless against her will but he was savouring every moment.
All his previous sexual encounters had involved woman literally bending over backwards to please him but these paled into insignificance as he became the student learning from her knowledge. Sara was teaching him the difference between having sex and making love. She was taming him.
She took control but when the crescendo of lovemaking reached its finale, it was time to let him free. He placed his strong powerful arms around her and effortlessly turned her, not a beat missed. She lay face down on the crisp white sheets, lifting herself up and down and writhing as she felt the beginning of her inevitable orgasm. She thrust herself back hard into him and he instinctively took hold of her outer thighs, unleashing the power and vigour she had earlier sought to control. She left no doubt as to when she had climaxed: “Oh! Fucking yes! Oh yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeessssss!”
Shane held her even tighter as she forced him further into her, not moving, just waiting as she gently pulsated and eventually collapsed face down.
“Wow, you really have recovered, Mr Mills,” she joked before turning over to face him, welcoming him with a huge beautiful smile.
She looked down and observed he had not finished yet. The smile got even bigger.
“I still need some looking after, Doctor May,” he smiled.
As they lay in each other’s arms, both fully satisfied, Shane stared up at the ceiling. These feelings of contentment were totally alien to him. He had never felt emotion like this before.
“What are you thinking about?” asked Sara, with a hint of mischief in her voice.
“You, me, everything really. Who would have thought that bunch of psycho jocks who put me in the hospital were actually doing me a huge favour?” He turned his head to look at her. “What will the hospital say? Are there rules about this sort of patient–doctor intimacy?”
“Strictly speaking we haven’t broken any rules but I’m sure if they ever found it would be the juiciest gossip for a week or two.”
“So is this a one-time-only thing, Doctor May, or will you want to be seeing me again?”
“I prefer Sara and I am not quite ready to discharge you yet.”
There was no awkward conversation the next day, no wondering if they would see each other again. It was all that was said, the rest was known. They were together and very happy. Sara loved Shane and Shane loved Sara.
Unfortunately so did Eric Temple Lloyd. Eric was the head practitioner at the clinic that Sara interned at two days a week. Eric and Sara had had a drunken grope at the 999 party the previous Christmas and as much as Sara regretted it she was always polite when Eric mentioned her red stockings. Sara was aware that Eric had a crush on her but had no idea to what extent.
Eric was the only son of Sir Richard Temple and his wife Caroline, formally Caroline Lloyd of Lloyd’s medical suppliers. The joint wealth of his parents ran into tens of millions and Eric knew in his own mind that he was a great catch for any woman, especially a low-paid intern who drove a ten-year-old VW Beetle. Eric first heard the rumours about Sara dating an ex-patient shortly after Shane moved in with her. At first he dropped hints and sarcastic remarks but when he saw the loved-up couple kissing
and cuddling outside his office one day he saw red.
He researched the rules on this sort of thing but was disappointed to find that as the relationship started after Shane was discharged, technically they had broken no rules. Eric’s interactions with Sara soon became hostile and he began treating her as a skivvy. At first Sara was naive to his motives but Elsie on reception put her straight.
“It’s ’cause he wants to get in your knickers,” she told Sara over coffee in the staff room one day. “He’s heard about your soldier boy and he’s jealous.”
“Don’t be daft,” dismissed Sara.
“I’m telling you,” Elsie said. “He is obsessed with you, always asking ‘Is Sara in today?’, ‘Will Sara be in later?’. He could not be more obvious. He, err, even hinted to me and Mary that you two had sex at the Christmas party last year.”
Sara’s face glows red; half through embarrassment, half with rage.
“Sex! The cheeky bastard…! He only groped me and stuck his tongue down my throat and tried to stick his hand up my skirt. Fortunately I was sick before we got any further.”
Still Elsie raises her eyebrows and the reality of the situation hit Sara as she accepted what Elsie was saying.
“Oh my god, how could I be so blind?” she said, more to herself than Elsie. “What am I going to do? That’s basically sexual harassment! If I say something I’m liable to flip out but if I don’t I’ll be Cinder-fucking-rella for the rest of my time here.”