It was a direct result of what that worm had done to her. By forcing her to climax in the presence of a growling dog he had rewired her child brain to connect sex with fearful circumstances. As an adult she needed danger to get the same high. So she had taken risks with her sex life. Putting her life in danger to get back the sexual high that had been forced upon her as an innocent child.
I went and stood over Olivia and gazed down at her. She was lying with her eyes closed, her face blank of all expression. Completely oblivious to what was happening around her.
My chest rose and fell with every breath I took. I experienced a strong desire to rest my cheek on top of her golden head. I was still staring at her with a mixture of longing and pity when it hit me. I had been so shocked and horrified by what the gardener had done I had missed it. Completely. I turned toward her.
‘Where is the white owl, Olivia?’
And she began to shiver with absolute terror. And I knew then that whoever the white owl was, he or she was not the gardener. The little girl’s fear was such that once again she was in danger of being ripped out of her trance.
‘That’s all right, Olivia. You’ve done well. You can go to your safe place now. I want you to remember a happy memory. Can you do that?’
‘Yes,’ she whispered, warmth flowing back into her voice, and recalled a picnic with her mother.
I brought her out with the instruction to forget everything except the picnic.
She turned and smiled at me. ‘I feel really good.’
Suddenly I felt so depressed that I could barely move. All over the world other children were being abused and irreparably damaged. ‘That’s great,’ I said and left the room.
She came out slowly. ‘Is everything all right? Did something happen?’
I turned away from the window and smiled. ‘Everything is just fine.’
She walked toward the couch and sat on it.
I didn’t plan it. I had not even thought of it. One moment she was sitting on my couch and the next she had lifted her skirt, showed me her bare blonde pussy and said, ‘Fuck me if you dare.’
And before I knew it I had stridden over to her. I was sitting on the edge of the sofa pulling my dick out of my underpants while she was upside down. Her cheek was resting on my floor close to my shoe, her elbows were bent, her palms were flat on the floor, and her legs were splayed open like a pair of scissors. I held onto her hips and plunged into her like a mad bull. The thrusts into her slender body were fierce, relentless and full of tension. Perhaps I was exorcising my demons, but her tight inner muscles recognized nothing but pleasure. They began to spasm and cramp violently as her body contorted with her orgasm. I didn’t wait a second longer.
With a grunt I let myself explode inside her.
I pulled her up and rested her so she was lying face down across my thighs, and slumped back, exhausted. I closed my eyes, my hand absently stroking the smooth curve of her buttocks as both our pulses and breathing returned to normal.
‘I’m hungry. Aren’t you ever going to feed me anything but cock and semen?’ she teased.
I couldn’t show her how disturbed I was. I had to be normal. I opened my eyes and smiled down at her. ‘What would you like to eat?’
‘I’d like to go out to a place where they serve cocktails in jam jars. Do you know such a place?’
‘I do indeed.’ And I couldn’t resist slipping a finger into her lovely pussy.
She giggled.
My finger was still inside her when we were interrupted by the sound of her phone ringing. She jumped guiltily. ‘That will be Ivana. I had better not take it, I don’t want to lie to her about where I am or who I am with.’ She bit her lip. ‘She doesn’t know about us.’
My gut constricted! I pulled my finger out of her and she sat up and pulled her skirt down over her hips. My first instinct was to shout, Don’t tell her, don’t tell anyone yet. There’s so much still behind the veil.
My horror must have shown on my face.
‘Don’t worry,’ she said with a small smile. ‘I’m not going to tell anyone. I know what they would do. They would disapprove and try to stop me from seeing you.’
I felt relief pour into my gut. Like a condemned man who is given one more day. I knew the reprieve would be short-lived and I had to get to the bottom of the white owl before anyone found out about us. We were not being discreet. Something told me I had very little time left.
I took her to Carambas and like a lovesick fool watched her eat and drink many margaritas. I knew other men were looking at her with desire. She was the cool ice-queen. So unknowable. So mysterious.
My hands went around her waist, possessively, pulling her to me. She was mine. She laughed and pulled me to the small dance floor where we bumped hips and pretended to do the samba and the merengue and the rumba. She was light and it was easy to carry her really high and swing her around my waist or pass her between my legs. She seemed so happy creating hard-on’s that she would have to pay for later. I looked into her flushed face and her shining eyes were silvery and I wished it could always be like that.
She smoothed the fabric of her skirt and I remembered the first time she did that. When Beryl had engineered us into having tea in my office. Then I had watched her hands, white and fragile, and struggled with the intense desire to cover them with my own, to protect her from all the demons of her past. Now I reached forward and placed my hands over hers. They were so small they disappeared completely underneath mine.
She looked up surprised. ‘What?’ she asked.
I shook my head. ‘Nothing. Nothing at all.’
A young girl, possibly still in her teens came up to our table. She was pretty much wasted. ‘You’re Lady O, aren’t you?’ she shouted above the music.
I felt a tremor of fear run through Olivia. She turned to me like a child. I smiled reassuringly as if I were her parent.
She turned to the girl. ‘Yes, I guess I am,’ she said.
The girl said. ‘I’m so glad you’re OK. After the accident, I mean.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Oh and I really liked that green dress you wore to the Ascot races last year.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Ok then byeeeee,’ the girl called as she was pulled away to the dance floor by one of her friends.
Olivia turned to me.
‘You did brilliant,’ I encouraged.
She smiled.
And WHOA sunlight suddenly burst into my heart. I was shocked by the intensity and force of the sensation and I think I made up my mind then. I was going to destroy all the records. I was never going to tell her about the abuse or the Invisible Society. Her brain had hidden it away for a reason. She was happy. She was no longer that person. Why bring it back? I helped Maria to remember and where did it get her? In the middle of a bonfire, that’s where.
Perhaps it was better to let sleeping dogs lie.
Let the white owl remain in the past. Perhaps the white owl didn’t even exist anymore. Perhaps it was even a figment of the other Olivia’s imagination.
Quote
It would be untrue to say, “I dreamed you.”
I never believed such beauty ever really existed.
Chapter 27
Olivia
It’s true that I had much too much to drink, but I felt really happy. I couldn’t remember ever being so happy. I looked up into Marlow’s face and I could hardly believe I had found such a perfectly gorgeous man. I felt so lucky and so blessed. I leaned on Marlow, his body warm and sheltering as an ancient oak, as we waited to get our coats. Outside, he stopped and pulled my collar up. And I looked up at him and the rest of the world just fell away. It was just him and me. There was so much I didn’t know about him. The world was our oyster.
In the taxi, on the way to his flat, I tried to keep it light.
‘I saw a documentary yesterday about a hypnotist,’ I told him.
‘Oh yeah?’
‘Yes, this hypnotist had been asked to cu
re a football team of their smoking habit. All he did was touch their foreheads and they were dropping on the ground like flies. Minutes later they woke up cured of all need to smoke. And when he lit a cigarette and gave it to them they were physically sick from it.’ I paused. ‘The hypnotist looked suspiciously like you.’
He grinned. ‘Yeah, that was me.’
‘How come you can’t do that with me then?’
‘That’s TV for you—high impact editing. It took me hours to get those guys down.’
I touched his hand. ‘I hardly know anything about you.’
He grasped my hand firmly. ‘What do you want to know?’
‘I don’t know.’ I shrugged. ‘Do you have family?’
‘Yes, I still have family back home. I just don’t see them anymore.’
‘Why?’
He sighed. ‘It was a mistake on my part to cut them off. I shouldn’t have. They were just trying to help. Everybody was trying to help. They just didn’t know how to.’
‘You can always make up.’
He grasped my hand tightly. ‘I will. I see now how wrong I was. I was in pain so I struck out at those that were closest to me.’
I blinked. Just as he had spoken I’d had a flashback. I looked at him in wonder. ‘I just remembered something.’
He looked worried. ‘What?’
‘I remembered that I had a pet peacock called Andrew. He used to fly up to my room and peck on the lead windows and when he saw that I was awake he used to fly back down and wait for me to come downstairs. And we would walk in the garden, my arm around his neck.’ I turned back to him and laughed. I felt excited about that memory. It was the first clear memory I had had since leaving the hospital.
I remembered Dr. Greenhalgh saying, ‘Memories are never truly gone. They prowl waiting for a gap in the mind’s door. When the gap is found they leap out from the unknown into the known.’
‘Do you think my memories are returning?’ I asked Marlow.
‘Maybe,’ he said, so softly I almost didn’t hear it.
‘You don’t sound happy about it.’
‘I don’t want you to get your hopes up. They could never return, Olivia.’
When we got to his place, he disappeared into the bathroom and I took a tiny bottle out of my purse and put it on the dining table. Then I took all my clothes off and, sitting on the table, waited for him.
I had a surprise for Dr. Kane.
Chapter 28
Marlow
When I found her she was sitting on my dining table totally naked. While watching me she opened her legs wide. Then she picked up a little glass container that she must have brought with her and dipped her fingers into it. It was half filled with white powder.
I frowned. What the…?
She smeared the white powder all over her pussy, carefully getting it into all the folds and cracks and cervices. Then she pushed her white-coated finger in.
I stared at her in shock. I didn’t want to get into drugs. That was one slippery slope I didn’t want to test, but fuck me, I was bursting my pants to fuck her. There was something so damn hot about a woman meticulously rubbing her own sex with an unknown substance.
‘Is that what I think it is?’ I asked carefully.
She raised her eyebrows flirtatiously. ‘What do you think it is?’
‘Cocaine,’ I replied sternly. I wanted her pussy. I fucking wanted to devour her, but no way was I getting into that shit. She was going straight into the shower before I stuck my tongue into that delicious hole of hers.
She shook her head slowly. ‘Nope. It’s not coke. Come and see what it is.’
I frowned suspiciously.
‘Go on, be a devil,’ she urged.
I walked up to her. She opened her legs a fraction more and pushed her groin upwards so her white-smeared flesh begged to be eaten or fucked senseless.
I looked into her knowing, laughing eyes and I knew. I was as safe as a baby at its mother’s breast. I pushed her down on the table and swooped on her sex.
Sugar.
Powdered fucking sugar.
But hey! What a fucking turn-on. She had deliberately added the illegal forbidden element into an already explosive mix. I licked every last bit of it. Swirling my tongue around her clit and flicking the tiny white stem until she writhed in ecstasy.
I remembered that she had sneaked some up into her, too. I pushed my tongue as deep as it would go and licked it all out. And when it was all gone and only the tasty taste of her remained I clamped my mouth over her clit and I gave her what for. I sucked and sucked and sucked until she screamed and tried to push my head away, but still I did not stop.
That’ll teach her—smearing sugar all over her pussy!
And lo and behold she came again. By the time I laid her on the bed she was utterly spent so I fucked her and spilled my drink inside her. I fell asleep with my arm curled around her waist. It was a good feeling. My last thought was I’m gonna make her mine.
Chapter 29
Olivia
I didn’t know what had woken me up, but suddenly I was wide awake. And the only thing in my head was the expression on Marlow’s face when he said that perhaps my memories would never return. Even though I was drunk I had felt it. He didn’t want my memories to return. There was something in my past that was so awful that he did not want me to access it.
His palm was spread on my stomach. Very slowly I lifted it and as quietly and as gently as I could I slid out from under it. I rolled and stopped, then rolled again and then slowly dropped my feet to the ground. Making as little movement as possible I got out of bed and left the room. By the mirror I saw the bunch of keys. I had one chance to do it tonight. He had left all the equipment in the soundproof room and walked out after my session, which meant that my recordings would be easy to access.
I dressed quickly and, closing myself in the kitchen, I called the minicab company I used. I whispered the address and told them to text me when they were outside. Then I switched the ringer off and kept the phone in my hand. Less than ten minutes later my mobile vibrated in my hand. I took the keys and carefully opening the front door walked down the steps and went out into the night.
The night was chilly, and the sky midnight blue with not a star in sight.
Chapter 30
Olivia
It was not a long drive to Marlow’s office, but it felt like an awfully long time. I was so nervous I dropped the money while I was trying to pay the taxi driver and had to scramble around on the taxi floor for it.
He was a decent sort of fellow.
‘You sure you don’t want me to wait until you get in your door? Can’t be too careful these days.’
‘I’m sure I’ll be all right,’ I said.
After he drove off I wondered if I should have let him wait for me. The street was completely deserted and eerily quiet and the first few keys were not the right ones.
I tried all the bigger keys in the door until the lock turned. Relieved, I swung the door open and quickly closed it firmly behind me. The alarm started bleeping. Beryl had given me the code the last time she slipped me in so I keyed it in. The bleeping stopped. I did not switch on any lights. The only illumination came from the emergency lights on the stair landings, but it was enough. I felt like a thief as I ran lightly up the wooden stairs. On my third try I found the key to Marlow’s office. I went in and stood in the shadowy space. Some part of me was afraid of what I was about to do.
But for so long now the curious flashes, hints and impressions had come, catching me unawares and sometimes startling me. My deeper mind was conscious of some shadow, some vague unrest that needed to be let out from my past and into my future. I drifted in the shadows, slowly. Like a ghost, letting my fingers trail along the wall, the desk, the gray cabinet. My breath misted in front of me.
I needed to do this. I was changing. Every day I was becoming more and more of something, but until I had all the elusive memories, everything that belonged to me, I could never
really be me. Everything always came back to my lost memories. It was important. And I wanted them back. Whatever they may be, they were mine.
I wandered into the soundproof room. It was completely dark. I turned on a light and went up to the recording equipment. I was nervous and jittery. I stood back and stared at it. I ran my finger along the smooth black panel. It felt forbidden and dangerous. A screen lit up. At the top left-hand corner it said:
Swanson, Olivia.
The buttons were easy enough to figure out. All my sessions were dated and could be accessed at the press of a button. I touched the square that said Session 1.
The screen filled with white noise. And then a night-vision image of Marlow and me popped onto the screen, and suddenly I felt excited. My stomach was clenched with nervous energy. Finally. Finally I was going to meet my past.
I went back to the chair where Marlow always sat and I watched myself. At first it was shocking to see myself without any will, a puppet. But then my body plunged with shock and I leaned forward in a daze. Session after session after session I stared at the screen until it seemed to swirl before my eyes.
My own voice mocking me.
What? How can that be true? Me a prostitute? Ridiculous. The Invisible Society? I could not believe it. I refused to believe it. It must be that false memories syndrome. Yes, that was what it was. Daffy had been right all along. It was all a mistake to hypnotize me. And Marlow believed in this utter rot! I felt angry. Something solid and hard was in my belly.
In the recording Marlow was asking a hypnotized me, ‘How many men are in the room?’
His Frozen Heart Page 47
