Michael rants on. â⦠As a kid, she was abused, beaten, locked in the dark. At fourteen she was assaulted and threatened with everything from gang-rape to torture. In escaping, she believes she has committed murder. She has a loveless, failed marriage. God knows you ought to sympathise with that.
She has exactly one friend, a teacher, who shows her way out. He later dies on her, but to follow the dream he started, she quite literally sells herself to a man⦠letâs face it, to a pair of men⦠who take her down a track that must have felt very familiar to her, and yet, in which she still managed to deliver with very good graceâ¦.â
There is a break in his words. Is he panting? Then he starts again. â⦠And when, finally, she has the chance to start it all over, her slate wiped clean, the man she loves most in the world, the man she has fallen deeply in love withâ¦. and itâs not me by the way, donât think I donât know itâ¦. sulks at her, for not having mentioned all this in casual conversation.â
Michael is incandescent⦠âFucking well get your act together, James! Sheâs missing you. Sheâs unhappy. Hell! Iâm missing youâ¦â
âAnd you think I donât miss her, being close to her?â My Masterâs voice is quiet.
âYou still love her? Yes?â
âYou know I do.â
âYou and me both. How long do you think sheâll hang around if you keep this up? Cutting her dead?
And if she does stay, how do you think sheâll behave in the future, if this is your response to something she really couldnât help?â
âCouldnât help? She had plenty of chances to speak.â
âWhen? Exactly? All those weekends when weâd meet up for a day or two and fuck like mink, because, really, we barely knew each other? Or was it earlier in the summer, when she got the shit beaten out of her, by you, while I sat and watched, and she ran? Or over the last couple of weeks when sheâs been working hard, and concentrating on making a good impression with Haswell?â
There is a break in the shouting, but the sound of pacing feet.
âWhat was that about a teacher?â
âThe teacher? So, you donât know about him? Have you considered just listening to her, instead of your own voice all the time?â
âAlright, alright. Whatâs this about a teacher? And no, I donât know about him.â
âWhen she was at the farm, she had a school teacher. He was obviously an inspirational figure for her, perhaps even something of a father figure, from the way she was talking. He showed her the value of an education; how to escapeâ¦. She started all this because of him; the drive to get to university, to raise the money to do itâ¦. You and I only ever met her in the first place, because of him. And when she went back at Christmas to see him, heâd died. Her one friend. Remember, at that point, you and I were just a couple of guys whoâd fucked her. How alone is it possible to be? I think you could make a bit of allowance for her taking time to get to know us. Wasnât that the whole point of us doing this summer holiday thing? To get to know each other, rather than just screwing all the time? To see if it is actually possible to make something like this work?â
I choke on my drink, spluttering.
Oh God, thatâs why they took the whole summer for itâ¦.
There is a pause, silence, then footsteps, coming towards me.
My Master looks out, then down at me. âAnd how long have you been there?â
âUm, quite a whileâ¦. erâ¦. I got back from my walkâ¦. I was coming in, but you were rowing and â¦â¦â
He looks embarrassed, flushed. He nods, holding out a hand to pull me up. âYouâd better come in.â
Michael is red-faced, furious. Where is my calm and placid, Golden Lover?
He looks apologetically at me. âIâm sorry Charlotte. I didnât mean you to hear all that.â
âI could hardly avoid it. The sound carried half-way down the beach.â
My Master doesnât look me in the eye. âCharlotte, Iâm⦠Iâm sorry. Michael has given me a lot to think aboutâ¦. If youâll excuse me...â And he leaves.
Michael raises his hands to the skies. âOh, for pityâs sakeâ¦â And he brings his fist down on the table with a crash.
I start, and he looks sheepish. âSorry, that wasnât aimed at you,â he says. âItâs just frustration.â
âI know.â
He wraps his arms around me, rocking me in circles.
âWhen did this all become so complicated?â I say.
He sighs. âWhen you fell in love with my best friend, then I fell in love with you, then he fell in love with youâ¦â
I wait⦠âYou missed out the last part.â
âDid I?â
âYou still think I donât love you?
âI think youâre not in love with me.â
âItâs not the same for you. The two of you are different people. Very different.â
Arms still around me, he rests his head on mine. âCharlotte, once, just once in all this, Iâd like a straight answer.â
I break free, looking him in the eye. âAlright. Try a straight question.â
He cocks his head at me, his smile self-mocking. âFair enough. Okay, straight question. Do you love me? Are you in love with me? As well as James?â
I take my time, choosing my words. He looks down, arms folded. âI think,â I say, âthat the straightest answer I can give to that, is that the âsubâ in me, is in love with him, but the woman in me, is in love with you.â
He continues to stare at the floor and my nerve tremblesâ¦
âIs that straight enough for you?â
âYes.â
âIs it good enough for you?â
He looks up, smiling, eyes warm. âYes, itâs good enough.â
*****
The following morning, Michaelâs phone rings.
âYup? So? Canât you get a replacement? Noâ¦? Oh, right. Okay, Iâll be there in an hour or so.â
He clicks the phone off. âIâve got to go to the Centre for a few hours,â he says to me. âIâd like to take you with me, but Iâd prefer to do that on a day when we can relax and I canâ¦. er⦠pamper you a bit⦠You alright staying here?â
âIâm fine. You go do what you have to do. Iâll have a swim and try to get some sun.â
âDonât forget your sun-blocker.â He tosses a tube at me, and I catch it mid-air.
*****
I know what I need to do.
My Master is in the lounge, sitting in an armchair. Hands behind his head, long legs stretched out, crossed at the ankles, he stares, pensively, into space âMaster, may Iâ¦. come in?â
He tilts his head at me, expression somber. âOf course you may, Charlotte. It is hardly for me to tell you where you may, or may not, go.â
I am wearing only the lightest of clothing, a beach robe, nothing underneath, my hair long and loose.
As I approach him, I slip off the robe, letting it fall to the floor. I kneel, naked at his feet, head bowed, hair spilling around me.
âMaster, Iâm sorry.â
âItâs done, Charlotte. Let it pass. Michael was right. The problem is mine, not yours.â
âNo, it isnât done, because you are still thinking about it. I hurt you, even if I didnât intend it. I want to make it right between us again.â
âAnd how do you propose to do that? I am what I am. You are what you are.â
âI think you want to punish me, Masterâ¦.â
He is silent.
âMaster, punish me, however you want to do it. Whatever it is, Iâll simply accept it. I wonât make a fuss, and I wonât run afterwards.â