by Laurie Mann
Told him about the feather. Boring, he said, but he liked the idea of the motorised titillation, especially when used with the electric shocks. He took more interest in Madam than I’d like, though. Made me describe her and kept probing for details. It worried me, I don’t want to share or lose him. Surely Madam’s not his type.
“What are we going to do, Rock?” I whispered as sleep beckoned.
“Ponder.” Was his only reply as I snuggled closer and gave in to closing eyes.
The clock appeared through misty eyes. Mid-morning! Oh no, so late, the office! I couldn’t keep having time off.
“Welcome to Monday.” Rock’s voice, where?
“Rock, why didn’t you wake me? I’ve got to fly, it’s late.”
“No need. I phoned the office.”
“You did what?” I was incredulous at the off-handed way he’d just taken over. “They know about us now?”
“No, spoke to Lisa.”
“And that’s all right is it? The whole staff will know!” I was furious. The boss and the lorry driver. What will they think? Laugh behind my back, I shouldn’t wonder What’s that done for my credibility?
“Tell me something.” Just like nothing had happened. “You said that Madam seemed to check on me, confirm that you gave her the correct name.”
“Yes, but, so what?” I was fuming, really I was. Too mad for coherent thought.
“Think about it, I have. It was Sunday afternoon. Who’d she check with? Somebody who knows both of us? Or, did she already know and didn’t need to check at all?”
“I don’t know, why?” The sense in his words began to filter through the rage.
“What about, Lisa?”
“What?” Where did he get that idea from? You know my suspicions, but ....
“Just that she didn’t seem surprised you wouldn’t be in. Got a feeling she already knew. Just a feeling, that’s all.”
“What now, then?” The awful feeling that my suspicions were about to be confirmed began to infiltrate.
“We wait.”
“Wait. Is that all?” I still can’t, even as I write this, believe his calm dismissal of the seriousness of the predicament. I’m sure he can’t really understand just how dangerous Madam can be.
“Yes. We can’t go to her, don’t know where she lives. She’ll come here, in her own time. Pretty sure of that. Hasn’t gone to all this trouble for nothing.”
“But, I didn’t say where you lived.”
“Didn’t need to. If she’s got the contacts you reckon and knows someone she can check with on a Sunday, then she’ll find my address - no problem.”
“We can’t just do nothing. Sit and wait, until she comes.” I had to get through to him the type of person he was dealing with. If he was dealing, that is. He’s so calm, remember my fears and doubts in Scotland? Is that why he’s so calm? I do hope not.
“I’m not going to sit and do nothing. And you’re going home. I’ll call when there’s any news.”
“No.”
“You’re no use here, good for nothing for a few days, by the look of you. Now, go, before I decide that a few bonus points for arguing are called for.”
“Rock?”
“Go on, got things to do. Oh, by the way, the Fat Man’s taking my lorry. I’ll be in Thursday to see him O.K.”
“The Fat Man? Dave Randle? The one Georgina talked about?”
“Ramsden. He’s O.K. I’ll square him with Lisa, good as gold, be no problem. Means I can wait here.”
I knew there was no choice, but then that’s exactly what I’ve always wanted. In truth, I was relieved to be sent away. I was beginning to wonder if he was going soft on me, like all the others. Becoming too caring and I’m pleased he’s strong again.
Monday 28th March
Rock came in on Thursday. Nothing to report, no sign of Madam and he still didn’t seem any more concerned. I met the ‘Fat Man,’ well, saw him as Rock showed him where everything was stowed on his lorry. So much, spares, food, more spares, tools. No wonder he had all those boxes made for the tractor and the trailer. The Fat Man, six foot six, at least and so skinny his jeans looked empty like hanging on a line. Empty clothes with a head at one end and yes, you’ve guessed, clogs at the other. If there’s a uniform for continental drivers at least he looks the part, doesn’t look any more animated than Rock, either. Surely something about the job must excite, or why do they do it? I turned to Lisa as we both watched them through the office window.
“What do you think, Lisa?” Think about what? I immediately wondered. The Fat Man taking Rock’s lorry, or the boss screwing the hired driver?
“Same as Rock. Outwardly he couldn’t care less. I trust Rock’s judgement though. He looks like he couldn’t care less but he does, he’ll never let us down. If he’s happy with the Fat Man driving his truck, then so am I.”
Then he was gone. Rock came in but only to say hello. Said he’d keep in touch. Chatted to Lisa about the Fat Man and then sloped off. The days waiting for Madam to show her hand seemed intolerable and there wasn’t much business to challenge, either. Couldn’t help wondering whether Lisa knew why Rock was staying at home, though.
***
Monday 4th April
The evenings dragged like the days although the weekend was the worst. Madam’s silence was expected but Rock ignoring me as well was too much to bear. The tension within increased as the inevitable duel neared. Through the tension, though, flowed the excitement. Not just the excitement of following Rock’s instructions, you know, toilet at set times, diet, reports, but the excitement of two people squaring up for who knows what kind of battle. A battle with only one certain outcome. Can only hope Rock’s the victor but whoever it is, they will have me. Me, to do with as they will, and I’m sure after all this trouble, they will. Rock’s rule - orgasm only when he says - is impossible amongst such excitement and every orgasm is detailed in my reports. He’s not whipped me yet but surely he must now. Please wait, journal, pussy beckons at the thought.
Back again, breathless, yes. Hand shaky, yes, but now you have my full attention again. I do hope it’s Rock who wins. Wish I could share his quiet confidence. If he doesn’t, will he continue to fight for me? Will the battle become a war? It will be a battle, won’t it? Surely not a pact, neither will tolerate that, will they? Or does it already exist, always existed? Rock did win over Lisa very easily, didn’t he? And you know my suspicions in that direction, especially since Rock mentioned her as well. What made him mention her? Please, an outright winner. I don’t want two owners, Rock’s all I want. I don’t want prolonged fighting, tossed from one to the other. Oh, Rock, I’ll be so good if you win. You know that, don’t you, journal?
***
Wednesday 6th April
I know it’s not your day, but I must talk, get my thoughts on paper, cleanse my mind. The waiting continues, impossible to concentrate in the office as each hour reluctantly passes to the next. Everything is so normal except, Lisa. She’s more nervous, more touchy than usual. Says it’s because a new man is driving Rock’s lorry, but I’m not sure. Her tension seems to grow with mine. It’s like sitting on a volcano as it spits its venom while biding its time. Knowing it’s going to erupt, just a question of when. Knowing the result will be catastrophic but helpless to prevent it.
Monday 11th April
The terrible wait continues, how I long for the phone call from Rock, the message from Madam. To know it’s happened, the confrontation, and especially the outcome. Can’t eat, always hungry but can only nibble. Last night was spent alone in the Royal Oak. I’d hoped to see Rock but he wasn’t there. Why? He’s always there but he’s not been seen, they thought he was away again. He can’t keep fit on his cooking, I’ve tried it, and he needs to be fit for the showdown with Madam. Oh, why wasn’t he there? Has it already happen
ed? Madam victorious and now I’m discarded, to be ruined by her blackmail as punishment for the trouble I’ve caused. Surely Rock would tell me, wouldn’t he? Maybe he can’t. No. Banish such thoughts. Trust him. He’ll be all right, he must be.
***
Saturday 16th April
A phone call at last. Not Rock, or Madam, but Lisa, flustered and panicking. Picking me up in fifteen minutes. My heart pounded the panic into a familiar lump that stuck in my throat, as I rushed to get ready. Questions, like machine gun fire laced into my brain. Why Lisa? Where are we going? What’s happened? What next? What to wear? All too fast to be answered. All too soon the doorbell shattered my already fragile nerves and there stood Lisa, panic etched on her face, her eyes alight with fear. Confirmation of her complicity? The journey was erratic, the silence broken only by pounding hearts. To where? Not to Rock’s, we’d passed the road I take to him. To Madam, then, so what terror awaits?
Rock’s cottage. We’d taken the long way round, that’s all, but the relief was only temporary as our nervous steps scorched the path.
“Ladies. Good morning.”
Rock. Concerned? Pleased? Impossible to tell as he led the way to his garage, still dark before spread of florescent light. Hanging from roof was Madam. Curled into a ball by the cargo net, fixed by each corner to the large hook in the roof. Her salmon skin criss-crossed by red weals as the net cut deep diamonds of pain as she perspired hard as her breath came in short painful gasps, so tight was she held. Her eyes were spiteful, hateful, full of loathing and, I’d wager, thoughts of revenge.
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