Double Bind

by Karen Bell

  ‘Any wax,’ she answered nervously.

  ‘Don’t worry. I look after you and you feel so clean when I finish. Maybe I do under your arms also?’

  Mila nodded and sat up to slip the dress over her head.

  ‘You very beautiful girl,’ murmured Ruby.

  The wax was warm and viscous as it rolled over Mila’s armpits. Ruby patted it down before gently lifting the edges. The rip, when it came, was quick and decisive and Ruby immediately pressed the raw skin with the cool of her hand so the sting soon subsided.

  Mila breathed a sigh of relief. ‘That wasn’t so bad,’ she smiled as Ruby sprinkled talc onto her hands before massaging it over Mila’s armpits. It felt good, not at all ticklish. She hardly took her hands off Mila’s body gently manoeuvring her in order to wax first one side of Mila’s bikini line and then the other. She was mesmerized by the dexterity and even though it was momentarily painful, it was not unpleasant. Mila realized that the G-string had been offered purely to placate her modesty and delay the inevitable nudity. When Ruby lifted the flimsy paper to one side to wax lower down, Mila realized how silly she was being and offered to remove it altogether. After all, Ruby had probably seen more women’s bits that a gynaecologist.

  ‘You like Brazilian wax?’ asked Ruby hopefully. ‘You let me do for you. It feel beautiful, look beautiful. So nice, so clean. Like baby.’

  Mila thought about it for a few seconds. In a way, she had felt dirty for a long time. She had tried to hide her abused genitals behind the small landing strip of hair that he’d allowed her to retain and pretended that she was somehow less exposed, less of a participant. That was the real reason she hadn’t shaved down there from the day the ambulance took him to hospital. It would have seemed as though she were still in servitude to Him. She was reminded of a day the previous Summer, when a fly had somehow slipped into the kitchen garbage bin. The next morning she’d awoken to find it filled with filthy maggots, hundreds of them, unable to escape. As she’d tied up the bag, Mila had somehow identified with them, destined to serve out their lives within that putrid confine.

  Now, in this moment, she wanted to feel clean again. She wanted the hair gone – all of it.

  ‘Yes. Why not,’ she replied.

  Ruby proceeded to smooth the molten wax everywhere, one surface and one fold at a time. It was hot alright, and Mila visualised it burning away the fingerprints of the past. With each glide of the spatula and each slick lift of the wax, Ruby pressed her hand against Mila’s skin until the tingling stopped. With each action Mila became more sensitive, more expectant and finally more aroused. By the time Ruby was finished, Mila was breathless. Oh my God, what must she think.

  ‘Beautiful, so pretty,’ crooned Ruby while examining her handiwork. Just when Mila thought it was finished, Ruby opened a tube of soothing cream and proceeded to pour it into her palms before massaging Mila from her inside thighs, up to and including every millimetre of skin she had just waxed.

  If Mila had not been so completely aware of herself she would have climaxed right then and there.

  As it was, she was buzzing like a lit firecracker and barely keeping it together.

  Ruby held a small hand mirror up so Mila could see her newly landscaped vagina. She looked down at her reflection and stifled a laugh. It reminded her of something a hairdresser would do after giving you a new hairstyle or a no-hairstyle in this case. She thanked Ruby and proceeded to get dressed. Immediately she was struck by how different things felt down there. Suddenly, she was acutely aware of every sensation, very different from the itch and prickle of shaving. It was like being woken up.

  Mila stepped out of the salon, and was hit by the hot breath of Summer gusting about her. It caught the hem of her sundress and lifted it up. She felt it rush over her legs and wrap around her body.

  It was late afternoon but the sun was still high enough to pack a punch. Mila closed her eyes momentarily as she walked to her car, fully present in the sensations of the moment. With each step she felt the silkiness of her freshly waxed and slightly swollen parts. Skin on skin, fabric on skin. No wonder Adie recommended it.

  She could hardly wait to get back to her car and immediately after closing the door, slipped a hand under her dress and into her briefs. She looked furtively around and noticed that the street was still busy with holiday shoppers. Her need was urgent and demanding. Where can I go for some privacy? Holly would be at home so that wasn’t going to work. She turned the key, still unsure of where she was headed when she remembered a lesser-used car parking area under the expressway. She drove past it and noticing it was all but empty, turned in, driving to the far end and stopping the engine.

  The late sun was flooding through the windscreen and Mila laid her seat back and closed her eyes. The car was warm but Mila still grabbed her cardigan from the back seat and draped it over her lap before slipping her hands underneath.

  At the first touch of her fingers, Mila knew it would be difficult to prolong the build-up; hell, she was already halfway there, but she willed herself to take it slowly. The heat of the car made it easy to visualise herself somewhere tropical. Somewhere exotic that wouldn’t remind her of home. She pictured herself at a very expensive resort, lying at the edge of a private pool. She was on her back in her new swimsuit, feet trailing in the tropical waters and sunshine caressing her oiled body. Eyes shut, the shadows of palm fronds swaying through her eyelids. Bliss.

  Seamlessly the cool, wet hands of an anonymous stranger slid between her thighs, and parted her legs, just enough… fingers catching the edge of the lycra, drawing it to one side. She pictured her smooth bare skin and parted lips, exposed and wanting. The same hands, never leaving her body sliding around her waist to the small of her back and drawing her hips closer, the rough texture of the sawn sandstone grazing her skin. The warm breath had her anticipating a hot mouth and wet, raspy tongue to follow, rolling over and over her sweet spot, sucking the salt water from her skin. Mila’s hands found the wet hair of the stranger and her fingers curled into the roots, pulling closer still, responding to the hunger, begging for more lips, more tongue, to engulf her, the repetition and intimacy making her lose herself completely. The ache and longing grew and intensified until, finally she moaned and shuddered, crying out as her body was wracked with an ecstasy that rolled on for minutes and left her panting as it gradually ebbed away.

  Lying there some minutes later, eyes still shut, body completely relaxed, Mila was almost dozing when she was startled by a gentle knock on her car window. She sprang up so fast, that she sent the cardigan flying, and had no idea whether she had exposed herself before tugging her dress down over her thighs.

  The expression on the face of the police officer outside her window gave nothing away. He waited patiently for her to raise her seat and roll down her window before speaking.

  ‘Are you alright Miss?’ he asked with some concern.

  ‘What? Yes, I’m sorry. I mean I’m fine. I-I was just having a little sleep, I mean it’s been a long day out.’ Mila noticed the way his biceps filled out his short-sleeved shirt, and how his smile played easily over a sensuous mouth before dancing into his eyes.

  ‘It sure has been hot,’ he agreed. ‘I was just wondering why you chose to have your sleep in the police car-park.’

  ‘Police car-park? It’s a community car-park isn’t it?’

  ‘Not for the last six months, although I guess it could be easy to miss the signs and there aren’t many of us in at the moment,’ he conceded as if trying to help her find an excuse.

  Mila looked about. There were now several police cars dotted throughout the parking area, which evidently couldn’t have been there when she’d entered about thirty minutes earlier. ‘I am so, so sorry. I had no idea.’ She was mortified. Just what would he be thinking and just what had he seen?

  ‘No harm done, probably the highlight of my day.’ His smile was cheeky and as he stood up to his full height Mila couldn’t help notice the proportions of his body, t
he perfect V from broad shoulders to hips; the flat plane of his shirt where it tucked behind his leather belt and into his trousers. His shape appealed to Mila, or maybe it was the leather holster that slung so comfortably over his hips. Her eye caught the glint of sun reflecting off steel as he turned slightly. Despite her mental recoil, Mila couldn’t halt the bracing twinge of arousal that caught her by surprise; that conditioned response Robert had spent years instilling. And even while she told herself that it was only a pair of handcuffs, she heard an echo of Robert’s words, Whore, Slut,

  The police officer paused, as if taking her in, before speaking again.

  ‘Well, I trust you can find your way out. Don’t forget your seat belt.’ There was that smile dancing in his eyes again.

  Mila muttered some kind of thank you before buckling up and turning on her engine. She accidentally put the car into drive instead of reverse and practically lurched into the hurricane fence before hitting the brakes. Her humiliation complete, she practically crawled out of the car park, noting that there were in fact not one but two ‘Police Vehicles Only’ signs at the entrance. Mila. You idiot! What is wrong with you?

  That evening over dinner, she couldn’t help thinking about the incident and wondering how much he might actually have seen. Holly noticed that her mother was only half present. ‘Earth calling Mum, Mila, come in please. You look quite pleased with yourself, mind filling me in?’

  ‘Sorry honey, I guess I’m just excited to be taking my first real holiday as a single woman.’

  Holly looked concerned. ‘You know Mum the dating game has changed in the last couple of decades, there are all kinds of users and con men, guys who’ll think nothing of spiking your drink, not to mention all the terrible STIs out there.’

  ‘You forget that I was never part of the first dating game. Anyway, remind me, what are STIs? Some new drug?’

  ‘Sexually transmitted infections Mum - Chlamydia, Gonorrhoea. Where have you been all these years?’

  ‘Honey, of course I know about them, I just didn’t know the abbreviation. We used to call them STDs. Anyway, sex is the last thing I have on my mind.’ Mila felt guilty even as she said it, but it was mostly true. She could not imagine allowing a man ever to rule her life, let alone her body again.

  ‘Well that’s a relief, but I kind of wish I was chaperoning you instead of Adie. She’s a loose cannon that one. Who knows what she’ll get up to.’

  ‘You don’t need to worry about Adie or me. She might talk it up a lot but she’d never dream of doing anything to compromise her marriage with Carlos.’

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Mila waved Holly off at the airport, fighting back tears, but she didn’t have time to indulge further because she had thirty minutes to get home, and before she knew it, she and Adie were heading up a ramp and onto the massive cruise liner. Mila carried a small overnight bag. Adie dragged a large suitcase on wheels behind her.

  Looking at the sight of Adie’s oversized case, Mila raised one eyebrow.

  ‘What,’ exclaimed Adie with mock indignation. ‘The cruise is five nights including Captain’s Dinner and New Year’s Eve. Then there’s six days of swimsuits and sarongs; five island visits; three more dinners; shoes; exercise gear; spare exercise gear; sneakers; toiletries; make up; hairdryer – you can never count on cruise ship hairdryers you know. Cruising is not like other holidays, you see the same people every day so you have to have variety. I’m Colombian,’ she added as if that was the closing argument.

  Mila laughed, but was secretly relieved to see that plenty of others were carrying bags not much bigger than hers. This was going to be some trip. She soon caught the celebratory vibe as they stood at the stern of the ship, waving goodbye to Carlos in the late afternoon light.

  The liner departed smoothly from its mooring, flanked by a flotilla of private vessels and Mila was in raptures to see the last of the sunlight playing over the water as they slipped under the Harbour Bridge. She felt as if she could reach up and touch the underside of it and couldn’t stop herself from trying even though it was still many arm’s lengths above. The ship’s horn sounded loud and long and everyone on board cheered. They steamed passed the sails of the Opera House, golden in the late light, and out towards the headlands and the open sea. Mila drank in every second. What a way to start a new chapter, a new life.

  When Adie had joked about not doing bunks, she hadn’t been kidding. Mila was almost embarrassed when the porter showed them into their suite. From the first jaw-dropping impression - a proper living room looking out to a private balcony and open waters beyond, through to the smallest details, separate shampoos and conditioners in tiny bottles and even a paper sash to indicate that the toilet had been cleaned, Mila was blown away. Adie appeared to take more delight in Mila’s reaction than she did to the room itself.

  ‘Come on. Let’s get changed for dinner. If you think this is cool, I can’t wait to see your reaction to dinner. I was tossing up as to whether we should go to the a-la-carte restaurant but we are definitely doing the buffet. Seeing your expression is just way too much fun.’

  The cruise buffet was everything Adie had promised and more. Mila had never seen anyone eat as much in her entire life as these people. She didn’t know where to start and tentatively picked at the sliced meats and salad, imagining at any moment that Robert would be there looking over her shoulder, lecturing her on what was fattening and what was not.

  Adie, on the other hand suggested that it was a simple mathematical equation. ‘The amount you eat is proportionate to the amount you pay for the all-inclusive ticket, and inversely proportionate to the amount of exercise you plan not to do while on board.’ She smiled triumphantly as she took a large slice of Black Forest cake and brought it back to the table, adding it to her stash of lemon delicious and some kind of mango mousse. She was still on her second entrée of lobster, Pacific oysters and sashimi.

  ‘What!’ she exclaimed for the second time that day as Mila raised her eyebrow, also for the second time, ‘I told you I’ve brought two lots of exercise gear so you better eat up or I’ll be asking for money back on your ticket.’

  Mila surveyed the groaning dessert table selecting something that resembled her mother’s continental cheesecake. It was times like this that she was transported back to her childhood and times like this that the pain of losing her parents resurfaced.

  Two years on, Mila still felt she was partly in denial. To lose them both at once, so out of the blue in a freak car accident was more than she had been able to take in. Nothing had added up at the time – her father had always been so meticulous about maintaining the car. Yes it was an old car, but it had been well looked after and he was a cautious driver. Besides, it was a trip they’d made a hundred times before.

  Mila didn’t know how she’d made it through the first few months. It was all a blur and if it hadn’t been for Robert taking charge and making the arrangements for the funeral, and the subsequent sale of her parents’ home, Mila wouldn’t have functioned at all. It was the first time really that Robert had ever shown support of Mila that bordered on kindness. Maybe he had been capable of empathy after all.

  Now she savoured the aroma of the baked cheese, allowing herself to reminisce. Her mother’s version included currants and lemon zest, which this one lacked and Mila lamented that she’d always meant to write down the recipe. It had been passed down to her mother from Mila’s Babushka and probably many generations before that, never on paper, but in the hearts and hands and cramped kitchens of her family’s past. Now the line was broken. Now it was too late.

  ‘Hey, what’s with the sad face?’ It was Adie interrupting her thoughts. ‘Snap out of it, we’re here to have fun. There’ll be time to be miserable when you get home.’

  Enough of this melancholy, Mila told herself. Adie was right and Mila smiled to her friend. ‘So my lovely cruise director, what do you have in mind?’

  ‘Well there’s a Barry White revival show followed by an ‘80s disco. Wha
t do you think?’

  ‘I think I’m trapped in a time warp and not quite ready to disco yet. It’s been a long time since I danced in public or in private but the show sounds like fun.’

  ‘Okay, so Barry it is and maybe tomorrow we can do a dance class to loosen you up.’

  ‘It’s a deal.’

  Adie was not one to go to bed early. The show finished at ten-thirty and Mila was already yawning, but her friend was just warming up. Unbelievably, she was ready to search and demolish the all-night supper on deck and then suggested they go and look in on the casino.

  By that time Mila was more than ready to fall into bed but she didn’t want to be a party-pooper. Miraculously, she found her second wind and three hours and several drinks later the two of them, shoes off, zig-zagged back to their cabin.

  ‘See I told you roulette was fun. Look how much we won.’

  ‘We won precisely ten dollars more than we spent,’ laughed Mila ‘and we’re lucky to have the shirts on our backs. You know at one point you were over two hundred dollars down? I was wetting myself with worry.’

  The two girls fell into their cabin and slept until after nine the next morning.Waking up first and seeing the time, Mila sprang out of bed and retrieved the sheet of the day’s events that had been slipped under their door overnight. She turned on the radio, and then when that didn’t work, she jumped onto Adie’s side of the bed, rustling the paper under her nose to rouse her.

  Adie sat up looking blearily at the timetable while Mila picked up her friend’s clothes that were strewn from one end of the suite to the other. ‘Great, we’ve just got time to grab breakfast and get to a ten a.m. girls-only dance class with Pola.’

  ‘What kind of dance does Pola teach?’ enquired Mila.

  ‘It doesn’t say but with a name like that, probably Latin American. Let’s go now and shower later on the way to the pool.

  The two of them grabbed their exercise gear and headed off to the breakfast buffet. Adie managed to eat three courses – fruit, pastries and a full American breakfast while Mila helped herself to some muesli and yogurt with berries. How nice was it to actually make choices for one’s self about what to eat and what to do? She could get used to this. Then they rushed off to the class, getting lost on the way and bursting through the door five minutes late.