by Thianna D
"Are you going to give me the full details on why you're so afraid?"
"Sorry, no. I don't think it would be fair to either of them."
"If someone is making a play for your husband that's hardly fair to you though, is it?" Maeve asked. "Is she married?"
"Stop trying to worm it out of me! I'm not telling and that's that. I've warned her off as nicely as I can, but I get the impression she's not going to back down that easily."
Ange looked at her watch. Only three hours to go. She needed to feed the kids, shower and get ready. A sick, sinking feeling settled in the pit of her stomach. She busied herself preparing lunch and talking to the children. Once fed, she was dropping them over to Bethany to look after them.
"What the hell does one wear to a public disciplinary session?"
"A loose skirt, less humiliating to pull something up than have to remove trousers," Maeve said sagely.
Ange looked at her with surprise. "How do you know this?"
"Ah, maybe it's time you started coming to Farther Henry's services. I've been over the bench on more than one occasion. And many of us have. It'll be fine. I promise." Maeve patted her hand reassuringly.
"I didn't know that. How come you never told me?"
"You don't go to church, so it wasn't relevant until now. And about those fantasies, there is something sordidly exciting about it. Wait until you're up there. Those nerves will still be there, but they go right to your lady parts. There is something about the audience that adds a different sensation."
"I hope so, because right now I just want to vomit."
"You need to eat something light to settle your tummy. Some tea and toast maybe. And remember, it's Jim who will be spanking you. He's on your side. He loves you. Just hold onto that thought."
Chapter 13
Jim stopped hammering to answer his cell. "Hi Hank," he said, grateful for a distraction from his thoughts.
"Jim, I'm so glad I caught you. Carla didn't show for work today. She had been fussing about needing to go to Corbin's Bend urgently. I forbade her to drive on those roads, and then I found out she hired a helicopter. I'm worried sick about her to tell the truth. So is Betty. She hasn't been right since the accident. Can you let me know if she arrives?"
Jim groaned. Another spectator. And the very one Ange would not want there, or him for that matter. Why the hell was she coming? She'd have better stayed away and left them with what little dignity they had left.
"Will do, but I have an appointment I can't miss at three. I'll ask Kirk to keep an eye out if I haven't seen her by then," Jim said.
"Thank you so much. Let me know as soon as you see her. Tell her to call me."
"Will do," Jim agreed and pressed end. He decided the best thing to do was to get Kirk on the case straight away. He didn't have the where-with-all for chasing after Carla right now. He hadn't eaten all day and he was a mess. It seemed so shitty that Ange had to go through this after what had happened in Dublin. He had wanted to refuse, even if it meant they were kicked out, but Ange had said they couldn't keep running. He knew she was right, yet this seemed so barbaric to him. And worse still, he had to be the one to do it to her. She was resentful enough about a private discipline session at home at times, and could fight tooth and nail to avoid one. He hoped she wouldn't do that this afternoon. Nor blubber too much. He really hoped she could keep still throughout as it would be so much worse for her if she had to be restrained. He wanted to call her several times, but he promised he wouldn't. Maeve would look after her until he returned at the agreed time of two p.m.
At one-thirty, he headed home. He knew he was a little early but he couldn't stand it any longer. Maeve was at the kitchen table, Ange in the shower and the children had already been dropped off. As he entered, Maeve rose and put on the kettle. She made a pot of tea and coffee and as she heard Ange coming down the stairs, she filled three mugs, adding a large shot of brandy into two of them. He saw Maeve look approvingly at Ange, dressed in a skirt with woolen leggings underneath.
"Good choice. Leggings will keep you warm on the walk over and you can take them off in the ante room. Drink this," she ordered, setting the mugs down on the table.
"Eww, I couldn't," he protested. He figured the look of disgust on Ange's face was probably a mirror image of his own.
"Drink it," she repeated sternly as she sat down. "It will help. It will also help if you go there together, holding hands. You go in a back door, so you don't have to go through the crowd. When you get there, you'll be brought into an ante room until it's time. When you're called out, you don't look at the crowd, but pick a point on the back wall and focus on that. It's you two together, and to hell with the rest of them, right? And remember, it's nothing you don't enjoy doing when it's just the two of you. Focus on that. Focus on each other. It's as bad for each of you, but you're a unit. You can do this. Now I'm leaving you for half an hour so you can be alone, but I'll be back to walk up with you. As will Joe."
Jim saw Ange's eyes fill with tears of gratitude for the kindness of her friend. Maeve Harshaw was a good woman and great friend. Her no nonsense approach was just what they both needed now. He stood to see her out.
"Thanks, Maeve, you're a doll," he said giving her a bear hug at the back door. He may have towered over her height- wise, but his arms were full of her lovely maternal roundness and Jim could not help compare it to Ange's leaner, fitter frame. Beyond a doubt he had what he wanted in life and he shot an appreciative glance over at his tense wife.
"Oh my goodness, Jim O'Brien. You're suffocating me," Maeve giggled. "See you soon. Look after that lovely lady until I get back."
"She's right, you know. We need to focus on us, act like there is no one else in the room. Think you can do that?" Ange nodded her head unconvincingly.
"I need a shower, want to come keep me company?"
Ange followed him up the stairs and sat on the loo as he showered.
"I love you, Ange. We are stronger than this. Look what we've survived." He wondered if he should tell her Carla was on her way back. He was damned if he did and damned if he didn't when Ange heard he had known.
"I don't know whether to tell you this or not, but I think if I don't I'll regret it… Carla's on her way here," Jim said as he got out of the shower.
"Fuck her. Bitch," Ange spat.
"I'm sorry, but you can be sure she'll tell you I knew, and I don't want you thinking I was hiding it for sinister reasons. You are all I want, all I ever wanted. That won't change, Ange."
From his vantage point standing over her as he dried off, Jim watched a change come over his wife. She squared her shoulders. The nervous, intimidated look she had been wearing for the last few days that had troubled him so much vanished. The real Ange O'Brien had just entered the room, fighting and swearing, and he was immensely grateful for it. He had been worried that she was sinking into depression again but her spirit had just made a guest appearance.
"Right, let's show her."
"That's my girl," he said, kissing the top of her head. "You and me, babe."
Ange punched him in the stomach, but he saw it coming and he flexed up. He had been asking for it. As long as he knew her, he knew better than to call her babe, she found it so condescending. But he wanted her fighting and he laughed.
"You'll pay for that later," he warned with a wink.
"Bastard!"
"Maybe, but your bastard. Always. Now what would madam like the executioner to wear? Come and help me choose. A suit, perhaps? The strict headmaster?"
"Yeah, why the hell not?"
"Good girl. Ange, you do know that I don't agree with this any more than you do, don't you?"
"Yeah, I do, love. Thanks."
By the time Maeve and Joe rapped on the door, they were as relaxed as they could be under the circumstances. As they walked, hand in hand, the few hundred yards to the community center, Jim prayed that God would give his wife the strength to bear this stoically. He was proud of her strength, but he hoped it
wouldn't fail her last minute. They had left early so they wouldn't have to bear the indignities of walking alongside the onlookers.
When they entered the building, Joe hugged Ange and made his way out to the main hall. Maeve stayed with her. She would stay with her throughout. Her cheerfulness was uplifting as Ange shimmied out of her leggings.
"At least it's warm in here. No goose bumps. A spanking is always worse when it's cold. Take her over your lap and give her a few friendly swats there, Jim. Warm up her tooshie. It will make it easier. Don't mind me. Damn, you're a skinny thing, Ange. And such a wonderful cook. Have you a pact with the devil?" she blabbered as Ange lost her leggings. Ange and Jim were laughing so much at Maeve that they almost relaxed until they heard the sounds of the hall filling up. Jim noticed Ange's breathing become labored and she was biting her bottom lip.
"A warm up's not a bad idea, love," he suggested as he sat down. "Come across my lap."
Ange hesitated and he patted his knee, smiling. She tentatively approached him and he grabbed her hand and pulled her down.
"Shh, it's just an extension of this," he said softly. He raised her skirt, gasped appreciatively at her thong and tenderly placed his hand on her behind, circling gently with his fingernails. He felt her relax into his touch.
"Good girl," Jim praised. His touch became firmer, his whole hand now trailing her rump, then kneading it. He tentatively placed a light swat on her bottom and Ange didn't object. Maeve studiously examined the spider's web in a corner of the ceiling, her back turned to them. Little by little, he increased the force, but ever mindful of two things, he didn't want the sound travelling to the hall nor did he want her bottom too pink. He hoped as her cheeks were bare she would be afforded the dignity of keeping the thong. It was a smart move, and once again he admired his wife's ability to plan ahead.
"They'll be looking for you in ten minutes," Maeve warned.
Jim pulled Ange's skirt back into place and helped her up off his lap, only to pull her down again in a seating position, which is how they were when Brent and Lelo tapped on the door.
"Come on ahead," Ange called in a strong voice. Jim was never more proud of her than at that moment.
Lelo simply said, "It's time, I'm one of the witnesses to make sure it's in accordance with the rules." Then he left. Brent lingered until Maeve got the message and left the room.
"I feel bad about this. We knew what you were doing and you had come to us to take out a unit. I'm sorry, Ange, but the rules are set in stone. However, we have all agreed to commute the sentence to twenty five strokes instead of fifty. It was the best we could do, but we do know you didn't invite this. Good luck, both of you." Before either of them had a chance to respond, he was gone.
"Only twenty five, I can do this," Ange said with relief.
"Okay, babe, let's go to it." Jim dodged the inevitable punch that would follow his words and Ange managed a small laugh. Maeve met them at the door with a wide smile at their better spirits.
"There was an angel smiling in Heaven the day he paired you two off," she said. Maeve and Jim flanked Ange as they walked into the hall, giving her strength through unity. Jim saw her fix her eyes on the back wall as Maeve had suggested. She squeezed his hand and assumed she was doing the very same to Maeve, too. He squeezed back, and kissed her cheek as they approached the bench. Once she was in position he raised her skirt and tucked it up into the waistband. He put his hand to the side of her thong and looked at Lelo and Brent. They exchanged glances and shook their heads and his relief was enormous, scant and all as they were, at least she got to keep them. He unhooked his fingers and for the briefest moment, let a reassuring touch linger on the small of her back.
"I love you, Ange O'Brien," he whispered softly before going to collect the ceremonial paddle from Lelo. He was shocked at the implement. It was designed to make a statement, a statement he would now have to deliver. Bigger and heavier than anything he had handled before, he swung it in his hand a couple of times, getting the feel for it. Ange was not going to be happy.
He stood behind her, raised the paddle and tapped her back to warn her it was coming. He had to make it count. Otherwise more strokes would be added. Jim watched Ange tense up.
"Relax," he whispered and he saw her cheeks soften before he brought down the paddle. Maeve was standing in front of Ange, and the look on Maeve's face as the paddle struck was enough to give Jim an indication of what the look on Ange's must be. Maeve offered Ange her hands to grip.
"One," Lelo recorded loudly.
This continued over and over until the count of five. By then Ange could no longer keep silent and the spanks were met with a cry of anguish, each time. By the eighth smack, Maeve looked horrified as Ange's shoulders heaved in sobs. Jim was just grateful he couldn't see her face. The next stroke he eased up, but then Lelo called a miss and he had to up the ante again. There was absolute silence in the hall. He repeated the missed stroke and Ange screamed loudly. It took all of his strength not to throw the paddle on the ground and walk away. He drew the paddle back for the next one, but as he prepared himself for the next stroke, there was a cry from the floor as the doors shot open.
"STOP. ENOUGH." Instinctively, Jim held back. Any reprieve was welcome, even if he didn't understand it. Carla was just inside the doors, tears streaming down her face.
"Just stop, now," she squealed. "I tried to get back but I couldn't get here on time. You have to stop. Just stop. Now. Please." Carla just repeated the same thing over and over, making no sense, until Brent left his spot and approached her, taking her by the shoulders and shaking her gently.
"It wasn't Ange, it was me. I reported it. I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking straight. I didn't hear this was happening until last night and I tried to get here to stop it. It was my fault. It's me you should punish." She sobbed. The room burst into a cacophony of sounds, chairs shuffling, voices first in whisper, then louder. Finally, a shout, this time from Lelo.
"Order, order," he shouted. He approached Ange and lowered her skirt and helped her to her feet. Jim opened his arms to embrace her, his eyes stinging with tears. He knew he was indirectly and unwittingly responsible for what had passed. Once the room quietened sufficiently, Lelo told everyone to return home, the discipline was over. People filed out, many grumbling at the show being cut short, more outraged at how the justice system had been made a mockery of.
"I'm so sorry, Ange. We will call to you tomorrow and sort this out," Brent said with a grim face. "But needless to say, Carla's membership in the community will be terminated." Carla's hand flew to her mouth; she obviously hadn't considered that she could be expelled. She approached Ange.
"I'm so sorry and so ashamed. I don't know what I was thinking. I wrote the letter on Thanksgiving, when I was drunk and embarrassed. And then when you came to see me, I got really mad and I mailed it. I didn't know anything had come of it. I know I don't deserve forgiveness, but for what it's worth I deeply regret it. When Bethany told me what was happening, I did my best to get here to stop it."
"Please, don't do anything about her until tomorrow. I need to think," Ange said. She was still trembling, both from the ordeal of the spanking, and the new revelations. Jim and Maeve guided her back to the ante room and helped her pull her leggings back up on her bruised and blistered bottom. Joe was waiting outside where a nasty blizzard was brewing.
"God is just, Ange. He brought Carla back to bear witness to your suffering but he won't let her escape the consequences in a hurry. There'll be no helicopter for a few days and the community will make her pay."
The four walked back together in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. They stopped for the children at Bethany's and continued the last hundred yards to the O'Brien's with the lively chatter of two young children who had just had a big afternoon of adventure playing hide and seek in a strange house. The brooding was over.
By the time Brent and Lelo called the next day, Ange was adamant that if they wanted to make amends they would just drop the
whole thing. Dragging it up again to punish Carla would only be reawakening her own humiliation, and she had no wish for Carla to endure what she had endured the previous evening. Ange told Jim about going to see Carla after thanksgiving, and said she regretted it, that she may have been responsible for pushing her over the edge. She would have enough punishment in her own conscience, Ange argued and Jim was inclined to agree. Enough damage had been done. Brent and Lelo reluctantly agreed to a private interview with Carla and a warning that she was one step from being removed from the community.
The following day, emboldened by their new closeness, Jim went through the domestic discipline contract. He'd known for a while Ange was discontent, but she seemed reluctant to discuss it before. He now understood just how threatened she had felt by Carla and had accepted his rules to keep him happy. He felt guilty of having let it slide so long, but was relieved to come to a compromise. The one clause he wouldn't alter at all was the one about the children's safety, he understood Ange's argument that she would never knowingly endanger her children, but as far as he was concerned, she had already done so by keeping two years of depression from him. He couldn't argue that she was always sensible with money and didn't need her finances checked up on. He also agreed that once the shop was opened, the rules about callers would have to be relaxed as it would be pleasure only.
By the time Christmas Eve came round the humiliation was all but forgotten in the O'Brien household, and a contented peace reigned between the couple. The excitement of Santa was the main focus. Ange's bruises had subsided enough to just be a minor pain in the butt and Jim knew she wanted the whole thing erased from history. Carla was indeed snowed in and facing the prospect of a very lonely Christmas as without exception, every single resident was horrified at how she was prepared to bring the entire community under scrutiny in order to disgrace Ange.
On Christmas morning, Ange and Jim attended church for the first time since their arrival and were delighted to be welcomed from the pulpit by Father Henry and equally as warmly by the other members of the congregation. By the time they left, they were full of the spirit of Christmas. Maeve and Joe had promised to call around for a while as soon as they could escape, and Jim was thrilled to tell Ange that Sarah and John would be joining them. Ange decided to whip up a large batch of eggnog in honor of the festivities, lacing it generously with rum and spices.
