The Gift of Shame

by Sophie Hope-Walker

  Feeling that he had broken into her mind and was rifling through her innermost thoughts, Helen reacted defensively. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ she told him, adding hastily, ‘and I don’t think I want to.’ When his response was merely to chuckle she felt infuriated. ‘Anyway – we have yet to talk.’

  The launch was coming alongside the anchored yacht and she took the opportunity to distance herself from further discussion by standing up as if preparing to disembark.

  Jeffrey didn’t let her go that easily.

  ‘What will we talk about? Carla and Tsai? Qito? Your fisherman?’

  Shocked that he knew about even that, she was pleased to note he had left out the two pilots from the roll call. ‘Among others,’ she said tartly and got perverse pleasure at seeing the surprise on his face.

  At that moment the launch crew turned to hand her to the lowered gangway and she stepped out of the small boat and climbed to the deck. Not waiting for Jeffrey, she made her way aft to the stairway that led down to the stateroom deck.

  Coming into the stateroom she felt overwhelmed with a sense of claustrophobia. The walls seemed to be closing in on her. She felt an almost panic-stricken impulse to turn and run before it was too late. Too late for what, she had no idea. Could it be that after only three days without walls she had grown unaccustomed to being in an enclosed space?

  When Jeffrey followed her into the stateroom she felt a spasm of resentment at his presumption. Staring at him as if at an intruder, she felt confused. ‘Who told you about the fisherman?’ she asked, even though it was blatantly obvious.

  ‘Qito saw you.’

  Perversely aware that she had him at a disadvantage, but not sure why, she insisted, ‘Saw us doing what?’

  ‘According to Qito you were enjoying yourself.’

  ‘True.’ The word exploded from her. ‘And I hope you realise that it’s all your fault!’

  ‘My fault?’

  ‘Certainly. If it wasn’t for you I would still be a virtuous widow.’ Seeing his stunned silence as an opportunity for a good exit, Helen turned on her heels and went into the bathroom, where she firmly locked the door.

  Unwinding the sarong, which though light seemed suddenly constricting, she was about to turn on the shower when she caught sight of herself in the mirror and came to an astonished halt. She barely recognised the honey-coloured creature reflected there. Hair wild, eyes savage, breasts more prominent than ever above slimmed-down ribs and belly, even she could find herself exciting.

  ‘You’ve changed,’ she told herself.

  When there came a knock on the door she assumed it must be Jeffrey and called a caustic ‘Go away!’ only to hear Tsai’s voice.

  ‘Miss Helen?’ asked the melodious voice. ‘Do you need anything?’

  Crossing to the door, Helen looked beyond the smiling girl to see no sign of Jeffrey. ‘Come in,’ she told her. ‘I feel like being indulged. You can wash my back.’

  Tsai’s eyes rounded with pleasure. ‘You have such a beautiful colour,’ the girl smiled, stripping herself of her cheongsam. ‘Afterwards I will give you a beautiful massage. Yes?’

  Standing under the shower with Tsai’s expert hands soaping her back, she found it titillating to imagine Jeffrey’s face, should he come upon them both just as they were now. So titillating that she found herself turning, without inhibition, to present her naked breasts to the soothing caress of Tsai’s hands.

  Very titillating, she decided.

  When Jeffrey returned it was to find Helen stretched naked on the massage table and the subject of Tsai’s expertise. Watching him reflected in a mirror above her head, she was amused to see him hesitate and, thinking himself unobserved, take a moment to admire the sleek lines of Tsai’s body. Thinking she had given him more than enough time, she turned on to her back and pretended to see him for the first time. ‘Jeffrey, you’re just in time! There’s a phrase running through my head and I can’t remember where it came from – perhaps you’d know?’

  Looking puzzled Jeffrey came a pace nearer the table and looked down on her. ‘What phrase?’

  ‘I don’t know if I remember it exactly but it goes something like: “Brave are they that dare to do what others scarcely dare to dream.” Do you know it?’

  ‘No. I don’t think I’ve heard it before.’

  Sitting up, and for no good reason feeling extravagantly pleased with herself, she put out her arms to Jeffrey who, awkwardly, came to the side of the table and returned the embrace. ‘It’s true though, isn’t it? We “dared to do”, didn’t we?’

  ‘You make it sound as if it is over.’

  ‘Not “over”. Perhaps a little different.’

  ‘In what way?’

  Lying back on the massage bench, Helen allowed herself a long, deep reflective smile. ‘Who knows?’ she asked as she took Tsai’s hands and led her to stand at her head then lay her hands on her breasts. ‘Did you have something to tell me?’ she asked a startled, completely engrossed Jeffrey.

  ‘Yes,’ he said, then seemed to hesitate as if his mind, centred on the sight of Tsai’s hands moving over Helen’s breasts, had wandered from the subject.

  ‘What?’

  ‘What?’ he echoed as if looking at the two naked girls had completely distracted his thoughts.

  ‘What is it you have to tell me?’

  ‘Oh!’ cried Jeffrey, flushing guiltily. ‘Yes. The Captain’s decided not to sail. Apparently, the hurricane is skirting the area just out to sea and he thinks it might be dangerous.’ Jeffrey’s voice was trailing away as his highly eroticised thoughts centred on Helen’s openly naked body.

  ‘So we could have spent the night on the island?’

  ‘Sorry?’ asked Jeffrey, as if he hadn’t heard a word she had been saying.

  Delighting in the distraction she and Tsai were providing, Helen laughed. ‘Come here,’ she said, waving to a place at the side of the bench where she could reach him. Jeffrey obediently moved to one side of the bench where, reaching out, Helen felt him standing erect under his linen trousers. ‘Darling!’ she cried, as if delighted by the discovery. ‘Is that for me or for Tsai?’

  Jeffrey flushed with embarrassment as Tsai failed to totally smother the giggle that had come to her throat. Jeffrey, totally distracted, looked from Tsai to Helen in confusion as she sought to unzip his trousers and bring his risen flesh into view. ‘Helen!’ he protested. ‘We’re expected for dinner!’

  Her fist firmly encompassing him, she murmured, ‘You didn’t answer my question …’

  ‘What question?’ Jeffrey asked, embarrassment giving edge to his voice.

  ‘Is your cock hard in tribute to me or Tsai?’

  ‘That’s a ridiculous question!’ Jeffrey protested.

  ‘To us both, then?’ she insisted.

  Forcibly removing her hand, Jeffrey turned away, attempting to stuff himself back into his trousers, until Helen’s ringing voice caused him to hesitate. ‘I wouldn’t do that if I were you, darling.’

  Turning, Jeffrey looked startled. ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘You have to be punished,’ she said with a bright smile.

  ‘Punished?’ he asked. ‘What for?’

  Noting that he had asked only the reason for his impending ‘sentence’ without questioning the principle, Helen, much emboldened, went on: ‘For spreading false information that deprived me of another night on the island.’

  Jeffrey’s expression froze as he stared at her while, apparently, searching for a suitable response. ‘We’ll discuss this later!’ he said firmly and made a dash for the bedroom door. Delighted to see him retreating in confusion, Helen let her laugh follow him as he called from the bedroom. ‘You’d better hurry up. Dinner will be waiting.’

  Feeling that she had won an, as yet, unquantifiable victory, she lay back and looked up into Tsai’s serious, slightly puzzled, face.

  ‘I’ve definitely changed,’ she told the puzzled girl.

  16
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br />   THAT NIGHT DINNER was a noticeably subdued affair. Helen, sensing that Jeffrey was wary of her, felt filled with a wholly new self-confidence, while Carla’s unusually subdued mood and constant assessing glances, made Helen feel that she had, somehow, moved to centre stage in this glittering company. Martinez, the yacht’s owner, paid particular attention to her every request and Qito was positively beaming every time he looked her way. Further confirmation that Carla saw her as a threat came from the total silence of Carla’s ‘creature’, Jimmy, who reflected his ‘mistress’s’ mood by sullenly avoiding eye contact with anybody.

  ‘Qito tells me he has created a masterpiece,’ Carla’s voice, laced with ice, rang down the length of the stateroom table to Helen. ‘You must have offered a great deal of “inspiration”,’ Carla added with barely disguised sarcasm.

  Helen smiled sweetly. ‘I don’t know about that. I just did what I was told.’

  Carla’s response was heavy with threat. ‘What a good little girl you must be,’ she said.

  ‘I do do my best whenever possible.’

  ‘And so generous, too,’ smiled Carla with all the warmth and affection of a cobra about to strike.

  Jeffrey’s voice, unusually hesitant, broke the silence that followed. ‘Are we going to be permitted a sneak preview?’ he asked.

  ‘There is still work to do,’ said Qito. ‘Perhaps tomorrow night – after dinner.’

  ‘How lovely!’ cried Carla. ‘We must make it an occasion.’ Then, surprisingly turning to Martinez, she added: ‘Musn’t we, Carlos?’

  Martinez looked a little uncomfortable before murmuring, ‘If you insist, Carla.’

  Carla nodded. ‘I do,’ before sipping on her wine and challenging Helen with a direct stare. ‘I’ve already seen the result of Qito’s devotional labour and come to my conclusion. You will all have the chance to play at critics for the evening – and, afterwards, come to your own verdicts,’ before adding with a gay laugh, ‘along with plaudits and punishment, of course.’

  Since everyone at the table had immediately looked at her, Helen had no doubt to whom the last word had been intended. Under the flare of Carla’s steady gaze she found herself confused by feelings of resentment which immediately rose only to be instantly swamped in a contrary emotion of excitement. Inwardly aware that her shiny new armour of confidence was being exposed as only paper thin, she looked to Jeffrey for comfort, only to see that he seemed to be, not only aware of, but amused by the conflict that Carla’s words had created in her.

  Quelled by Carla’s display of petulance, Helen took the first opportunity she could of escaping onto the deck. A multitude of seductive perfumes wafted on the evening breeze, reminding her of the short idyll that now seemed to have been irretrievably lost. She could barely summon the will to turn to greet Jeffrey as he joined her at the ship’s rail.

  ‘What’s wrong with you tonight?’ he asked.

  ‘With me?’ she asked. ‘What about Carla? Why is she being so bitchy to me?’

  Putting a warming arm about her shoulders, Jeffrey laughed. ‘That’s obvious. She’s eaten up with jealousy about your days alone with Qito. You should be flattered.’

  ‘Well, I’m not and she’s got no reason. Nothing happened between me and Qito on the island.’

  Jeffrey smiled. ‘I believe you. But you don’t know what Qito’s been saying. He takes a great deal of adolescent pleasure in seeing Carla provoked.’

  ‘Then I’ll put the record straight the first chance I get.’

  ‘And spoil Qito’s pleasure? Surely not?’

  Helen turned to Jeffrey angrily. ‘You saw and heard her in there. I was starting to worry in case she came at me with a knife!’

  Jeffrey’s scornful laugh made Helen turn away with an unsettling feeling of anger. Still bristling, she was suddenly alert.

  Out to sea, obviously approaching the island, she saw the lonely bobbing light that marked the stern of her mysterious lover’s dinghy.

  Overwhelmed with a rush of warmth to the man’s loyalty – he must surely have seen the moored yacht – she, unawares, spoke her unbidden thought out loud. ‘He’s come back!’

  ‘Who has?’ asked Jeffrey before going on to answer his own question. ‘Your fisherman?’

  Nodding, Helen pointed out the light on the moonlit sea. ‘That’s his boat.’ She hadn’t realised how silent and thoughtful Jeffrey had become until, turning to him, she asked. ‘Why does he have that bright light hanging over the water like that?’

  It seemed Jeffrey had to wrench his mind to her question before answering. ‘To attract fish. The light excites them and brings them in close – like moths to a flame.’

  Involuntarily, Helen found herself shuddering. ‘Weird!’ she murmured.

  ‘What’s weird?’

  ‘To be standing on the deck of this sophisticated pleasure machine in sight of a primaeval game of life and death.’

  Jeffrey was silent for a moment as both watched the light getting ever closer to the island. ‘It seems fish aren’t the only creatures he draws to his lamp.’

  ‘What does that mean?’

  ‘You want to go to him, don’t you?’

  Meaning to make a pretence at protest she turned to look directly at Jeffrey’s serious face and suddenly read there a complete understanding of the other, darker, impulse which had risen in her. ‘Yes,’ she said, flatly. ‘As a matter of fact, I do.’

  ‘Then go,’ said Jeffrey. ‘I won’t stop you.’

  They were still making silent challenge and answer when Carla’s voice cut through the night. ‘But I will!’ she said, coming to stand close to the startled Helen. ‘One man – two men – aren’t enough for you, huh? You want to play the slut for some seaborne peasant!’

  Bridling, Helen demanded, ‘What business is it of yours?’

  Carla answered with an equally brittle tone. ‘Jeffrey is my friend and Qito is my husband! I’ll not allow you to insult either one.’

  Startled to find herself angered but able to stand up to the formidable Carla, Helen flared back: ‘If you’re bothered by what might have happened between me and Qito on the island, you can relax. Nothing happened. But, in the second place, it’s downright patronising of you to appoint yourself defender of either Qito or Jeffrey. They’re both old enough to speak for themselves. In the third place, I don’t give a damn what you think!’

  The resonating silence that followed Helen’s outburst was broken by a curiously disarming Carla. ‘Our little mouse has grown fangs!’ she cried in tones suggesting a delightful discovery. ‘It’s obvious that something must have happened on the island.’ Reaching out a hand she laid it gently to Helen’s face. ‘However shall we tame this wildcat?’ she asked of Jeffrey.

  ‘I don’t think I want her tamed,’ he answered.

  ‘Are you going to let her go ashore then?’

  ‘That’s her decision.’

  ‘And will you take her back without conditions?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Smiling beneficently at Helen, Carla went on: ‘How wonderful young love can be. And you, lovely child, how did you mean to get ashore?’

  Looking out to the seductively moonlit island, lying less than a hundred metres from the yacht’s anchorage, she turned back to Carla to speak defiantly, ‘Swim, if I have to!’

  Carla laughed with delight. ‘I think you should. Life should never be too simple. And what of your return – what then?’

  Puzzled, Helen asked, ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘All indulgence has a price. We shall have to punish you on your return, don’t you agree?’

  Looking into Jeffrey’s face Helen could see the equivocation in his expression. Challenged and feeling that to retreat now would forever condemn her in his eyes to weakness, she braced herself to once more face Carla and, realising that Carla’s threat merely added spice to the excitement, said, ‘All right. I agree.’

  ‘Lovely!’ cried Carla and then, reaching forward, opened the single catch that held Hel
en’s dress, leaving her naked. Helen kicked off her shoes and turned to the yacht’s rail. ‘Did you think I wouldn’t dare?’ she asked Jeffrey.

  ‘Just remember to come back,’ he called as Helen, waving, turned to face the ocean and made as perfect an arc as she could in diving into the sea.

  Jeffrey watched her strike for the shore, leaving a glowing phosphorescence in her wake, and tried not to think of this as rejection.

  ‘What a wonderful girl!’ breathed Carla in genuine admiration as they both stood watching Helen, clearly visible in the silver moonlight.

  Jeffrey was about to reply when the First Officer appeared at their side and, leaning forward, peered into the water. ‘Did someone just dive over the side?’

  ‘Yes. Helen did. Why?’ asked Jeffrey.

  ‘Because this afternoon we spotted a bull-nose shark in the lagoon!’

  ‘Oh dear,’ said Carla. ‘Are they one of the dangerous kinds?’

  ‘Vicious,’ said the excited First Officer. ‘More dangerous than the Great White. Can you see her?’

  It was then, scanning the beach, that they saw Helen rise from the surf and trot gently along on the dry sand.’

  ‘She made it!’ breathed Jeffrey.

  ‘She still has to get back,’ Carla reminded him as the First Officer moved off.

  Seeing a teasing light in Carla’s eye, Jeffrey had a sudden insight. ‘You knew, didn’t you?’

  Carla affected a casual air, ‘I do believe that someone did mention that we shouldn’t swim.’ Not even bothering to disguise her total insincerity, she went on, ‘It completely slipped my mind until that charming officer reminded me.’

  ‘She might have been killed!’ Jeffrey protested.

  ‘What is life without, at least, a little excitement?’ Carla asked. ‘However, nothing was lost.’

  ‘Yes, but what do I do now? I can’t let her swim back in the morning, but suppose she decides to come back before then?’

  Carla shrugged. ‘It sounds to me as if you will have to maintain a whole night vigil.’ Leaning in, Carla kissed Jeffrey firmly on the cheek. ‘Pleasant thoughts,’ she said, before turning away to the boat’s interior.