by Janey Rosen
We draw to a halt alongside a Bentley and exit out car. Suddenly I recall why the name of the house is familiar. ‘Girling Hall’ was the address printed on the invitation that I had found in Sebastian’s pocket, the venue for the fetish party, or ‘auction’ as he had referred to it.
“Oh my God. This is where you came for the auction,” I hiss as we approach the entrance, whispering out of Bella’s earshot. “So, Marcus is as kinky as you?”
He grins and winks infuriatingly. “Might be. Depends on the definition, Elizabeth.”
“Ass.”
“Ass?” He slaps my bottom and shakes his head. “I’ll give you ass.”
Marcus and Rebecca make a fine couple. He is just a little slighter in stature than Sebastian, with an unruly mop of fair hair and a charming manner. Rebecca is almost as tall as her spouse and is dressed elegantly in a cerise shift dress and stunning pink Jimmy Choo heels. She embraces us warmly as Sebastian introduces Bella and I, before Marcus holds me at arms length, letting his gaze travel slowly up my body in an overtly appreciative way.
“Sebastian, how do you manage to attract such peaches?” Marcus digs Sebastian in the ribs and earns an expletive in return.
“She’s out of your league, Marcus old chap,” he mocks.
“It’s wonderful to meet you both,” I say, nudging Bella who has yet to say hello. “Finally, I meet Sebastian’s friends. Rebecca I love your dress, and those heels are to die for.”
“Please call me Becky, everyone does and thank you, we must go shopping and do lunch one day, Beth.”
“That would be lovely.”
“Becky. Drinks, and how’s the food coming on?” Marcus sounds so like Sebastian, it’s apparent that they do indeed share their dominant trait.
“Another ten minutes,” she replies. “Come on through, all of you. Let’s have a Bellini.” She leads the way in to an expansive orangery constructed entirely from wood and glass it affords a spectacular view of manicured lawns and box hedging. A crystal chandelier illuminates a white dining table, tastefully set for dinner.
“Theo, darling. Come and meet the beautiful Bella and her equally gorgeous mother, Elizabeth. You know Sebastian already of course.” Bella and I turn to face a tall, long-limbed young man with shoulder length mop of golden curls and brilliant green eyes. He shakes my hand with a confidence that belies his age, but his eyes are fixed on my daughter who is blushing a furious crimson.
“Very pleased to meet you, Bella.” He holds out a hand to her, which she shakes timidly. It’s clear that she’s as taken with his beauty as he is with hers.
“Why don’t you two youngsters go and do something more interesting? Show Bella your recording studio. I’ll call you when dinner’s ready.” Marcus slaps him on the back playfully.
“Want to come and see, Bella? It’s kinda cool.” He hasn’t yet released her hand - instead taking a cue from her nod he leads her from the room.
“He’s a handsome young man, Becky. You must be very proud of him,” I say.
“We are. Very Proud. He’s a talented musician too. Marcus had the studio installed for him for his eighteenth birthday. We keep encouraging him to apply to the X Factor but he said that’s not for serious musicians.”
“Well, Bella certainly looks smitten already, it’s so refreshing to see her mixing with someone nearer her own age. I think she’s going stir crazy at Penmorrow.”
I catch Sebastian frowning and quickly add, “of course she loves it there but she needs new friends. I hope they get along.”
Becky hands flutes of Bellini cocktail to each of us, before regaling us with tales of a recent trip to Venice. The ice cold Prosecco with peach puree is delicious, but goes directly to my head and loosens my tongue almost instantaneously.
“Beth, you wanted to talk to me about something?” Marcus has an arm placed around my waist much to the annoyance of Sebastian, who cocks a challenging eyebrow at his friend.
“No,” I counter, “it was nothing in particular. I just thought it would be good to see if Sebastian really does have any friends.”
Marcus roars a guttural laugh, while Sebastian turns his eyebrow on me. Keep your hair on De Montfort, I’m only teasing.
“Not sure I’d call myself a friend, more of a long-suffering acquaintance, hey De Montfort?” He quips. “Come on Beth, while Becky burns the dinner, let me show you our University photos in my study.” He takes my hand and leads me from the orangery before I can protest, leaving Sebastian blazing.
“Did you see his face?” Marcus nudges me as he closes the study door.
“He’s rather protective of me, Marcus. Don’t take it personally please.”
“Beth, I’ve known Sebastian for more years than I care to recall. I know what he’s like, but he doesn’t intimidate me. Come here. Sit down.” He pats edge of the desk, having seated himself in the sole chair in the sparsely furnished home office. Affronted, I remain where I stand, looking less than impressed. What a pratt.
“Please come and sit. You can see the photos better here,” he asks more convivially.
Following orders, I perch on the hard edge of the desk and study the album he’s retrieved from a drawer.
“We shouldn’t be too long,” I say nervously. “Becky will wonder where we are.”
“Nonsense, she can keep the dinner warming in the oven. Look – there we are in the student bar. See how weedy he used to look?” He points to a young looking Sebastian, fresh faced and clutching a pint of beer.
“He was handsome even then.”
“Handsome! Girl, you have got it bad,” he laughs. It’s a fascinating glimpse into Sebastian’s past, which enables me to feel that I know him a little better.
“Can I please ask you something?” My finger nervously trails along the edge of a blotter pad.
“Course you can. What is it?”
“I went to see Libby’s mother this week and she suggested I ask you about Sebastian’s past. She insinuated there was something that happened to him, which may have caused his … behaviour.”
“His childhood. Hmm, I’m not sure I should be discussing this with you, without his permission.” He closes the album, replacing it in the drawer, and folds his arms defensively.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry,” my cheeks flush fiercely.
“Look, I don’t suppose it will hurt to impart one titbit of information about him. Sebastian didn’t have a conventional adolescence. I’m not saying he was fucked up by his parents - for the most part they were very good to him – top private education, fantastic inheritance. His mother had … shall we say, an anger management issue.”
“Oh? What do you mean?” This is intriguing.
“She used to beat seven shades of shit out of him, Beth. The first time I noticed it, was when he came back from the first summer recess. He had a nasty black eye, so of course I presumed he’d been in a bar brawl, I teased him mercilessly. We got drunk in the halls of residency and he told me she’d hit him. His mother. I didn’t know him before University, so I can’t tell you how long it had been going on before but he hinted that she’d always punished him from a young age.” Oh my poor, poor Sebastian. Images of a little dark haired boy being struck by his mother bring a tear to my eye.
“Did he say why she’d hit him?” I rasp.
“Nothing he’d done apparently. She was always the bossy one, used to order Sebastian’s father around and it seems, on this occasion, he’d messed up in some way and she took it out on her son. Between you and I, Beth, I suspect that’s why he’s gone the other way in adulthood.”
“Other way?”
“Dominance. Think about it. He’s effectively turned the tables on his mother’s actions. It’s as if he’s correcting the imbalance and putting women back in the position he feels they belong, restoring man’s authority in the household.”
It all makes sense to me now. “You’re right. He’s put himself in a position of total control and power … so that no woman can hurt him a
s his own mother did.” The thought makes me nauseous. My vulnerable, fucked up man has, in essence, put a defensive iron cage around himself. It breaks my heart that he should have been subjected to such ill treatment, and it makes me angry – for the pain he has suffered and for the impact upon Libby and Scarlett. And me? What of our relationship? Were the beatings I’ve taken at his hand really sensual … or something much darker?
“Don’t read too much into it,” he adds contemplatively. “He enjoys his dominance, and he’s pretty good at it. I shouldn’t feel too sorry for him, after all look at the totty the bugger attracts, hey?”
I want to smack him in his condescending mouth but we are interrupted just in time.
“Come on you two, dinner’s getting cold.” Becky has entered the study and regards our expression guardedly.
“Did you forget to knock?” Marcus barks.
“Sorry, Marcus. Please could you both come through and eat, Sebastian looks most uncomfortable – I think he’s missing you Beth. I’ll let him know you’re coming.”
As we walk together to the orangery, I place a hand on Marcus’ arm. “Thank you,” I tell him earnestly. “I needed to know, thank you for telling me.”
“There is a positive side to all this,” he whispers as we near the others at the table. “The sex is fucking amazing if you go with it.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, shocked.
“Dominance. Submission. Go with it, he’s told me a lot about you, hope you don’t mind.” His places a hand on the small of my back and lets it slip down to my right buttock. Glaring at him, I step to the side so that his hand drops away.
Sebastian has witnessed the grope.
“Elizabeth. Marcus. How good of you both to join us,” he looks mad. His eyes burn darkly as we take our seat at the table. My gaze meets his and I mouth an apology and smile meekly but he narrows his eyes sinisterly. I take the cue and lower my eyes.
“Marcus, I do hope you haven’t bored Elizabeth.”
“On the contrary, Sebastian. We’ve enjoyed each other’s company, haven’t we Beth?” Crap. Don’t wind him up – he’s already wound tight as a spring.
26
Glancing up at him, I can see Sebastian’s mood has darkened still further. He catches my furtive glance and widens his eyes in a menacing stare causing me to fidget nervously in my seat.
“It’s been interesting, yes,” I reply, hesitantly smiling at Marcus as he fills my wine glass with iced Chablis.
“I’ve been showing Beth our university photos. She said she didn’t realize you were clever,” Marcus scoffs.
“Did she now?” Sebastian says icily.
“I said no such thing,” I exclaim furiously. “Marcus showed me a couple of photos, but we didn’t talk about anything, did we Marcus?”
“Nothing at all?” Sebastian looks quizzically at me, I take a large gulp of chilled wine and glare at Marcus.
“Nothing at all, no,” he confirms, winking at me.
An audible sigh escapes my lips. Just shut up!
“You were gone a considerable amount of time, to have talked about nothing at all,” he observes sarcastically and it’s apparent he suspects that Marcus did indeed impart information that Sebastian would prefer remain a secret.
Bella is seated next to Theo, and listens intently as he talks to her. I smile as I see her interact with him, so shyly and demurely, and so unlike my daughter.
The meal is delicious. Becky is a talented cook - her menu is sophisticated and fresh but avoids the tortured cleverness of high-end restaurants. The entrée of seared scallops in spicy Asian broth are divine and yet are eclipsed by the roast grouse, which Becky serves with lentils and, to my amazement, a chocolate jus. Marcus continually tops up our glass with perfectly matched wines and, as Becky clears away the table, I’m replete and slightly drunk.
Theo takes a giggling Bella to watch a movie. Marcus ushers us to a comfortable seating at the far end of the orangery, Sebastian guides me to a love seat opposite the sofa on which Marcus sits. He places a hand upon my knee and squeezes gently.
“Ok?” he whispers.
“Fine, thank you,” I reply, placing a hand lightly on his, relieved that his mood has brightened.
“We won’t stay long,” he murmurs in my ear and kisses the lobe.
“Look at you two lovebirds. Put her down, Sebastian.” Marcus pours amber liquid into four crystal glasses and hands one to Sebastian and I before sipping his own.
“Try this, it’s Vin Santo and it’s to die for. We picked it up in Tuscany last year.”
“Marcus is a wine snob,” Sebastian chides as he sips the wine.
“Darlings, wait for these.” Becky returns to the orangery and offers a plate of nutty biscuits.
“Biscotti almond cookies. I baked them this morning and you simply must dunk one in your Vin Santo,” she enthuses.
The taste is quite extraordinary. The creamy honey flavour of the wine complemented by the less sweet crunch of the cookie is heavenly.
“Is there anything you can’t do?” I ask Becky with admiration. The woman is a goddess. Looks like one, cooks like one.
“I just like to keep Marcus happy,” she smiles at him and he pats her bottom as she bends down to retrieve her glass.
“Christ, she keeps me happy, don’t you darling? And when she fucks up, I make damned sure she learns her lesson and doesn’t repeat her mistake. Isn’t that right?”
She nods demurely and sits beside her husband who is quite clearly now drunk. “That’s right, Marcus is very patient with me and very fair.”
“You see, Elizabeth?” Sebastian squeezes my knee again, harder this time. “You could learn from Rebecca. She’s mastered the art of submission nicely.”
I nearly choke on my Van Sinto, or whatever it’s called. “Sebastian! That’s very personal,” I protest, cheeks reddening.
“Nonsense,” roars Marcus. “We need to get you to one of our suppers, hey old boy?” He winks lecherously at Sebastian whose mood is again hard to read.
“It’s my party soon,” I enthuse, hoping to change the direction of conversation. “I’m so glad you’re both coming, I don’t think I’ll know many other people there.”
“Masked ball, eh?” Marcus winks again and I feel like punching his winking eye. I’m feeling feisty.
“That’s right. It should be great fun.” I drain my glass, only for Marcus to refill it instantaneously. Consciously trying not to slur my words, I turn to Sebastian.
“Well, apparently we have thirty-five guests – and I know about a handful of those. We have caterers doing all the food, which is great because I can’t cook. Oh and Scarlett has chosen me a dress. Can you believe that, Becky - another woman, choosing what you will wear for your own special birthday party? Oh and not to mention the fact that she’s also chosen the decorations, masks, music and … most probably … the entire guest list.” My mouth is now disengaged from my brain and running on autopilot.
“Elizabeth. Enough.” I ignore Sebastian and his vice like grip on my knee.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if she doesn’t choose Sebastian’s outfit, wash behind his ears and dress him on the night.” A crass peel of laughter escapes my lips, silenced only by a deep drink of Von Snotto, it’s making me feel queasy, hell … I’ll finish it anyway.
“Enough!” Sebastian barks furiously, bringing a smug smile to Marcus The Winker’s face and a ‘tut’ from Miss Perfect Rebecca.
“Sebastian, she’s a feisty one,” Winker reaches across and taps my other knee - the one that isn’t being clamped in a painful vice by my boyfriend.
“Isn’t she just?” Sebastian shifts his position, now able to look at me directly. Oh, he looks mean!
Miss Perfect offers round her cookies in an attempt to break the tension and says sweetly, “I always find Scarlett to be so … amenable.”
“You do?” I ask incredulously. “Personally, I find her to be irritatingly … there. She’s always around, with her pret
tiness and … her weakness … her please-don’t-tell-me-off-I’m-made-of-glass personality. Personally, I think Sebastian’s too afraid to get rid of her.” The alcohol is entirely fuelling my vocal chords at this point.
“Do you mind?” Sebastian asks. At first I think he’s talking to me but it’s Marcus who replies.
“Please do. Be my guest. I’m just surprised that you’ve let it go this far.” Winker winks again. I glare at him.
My mouth is open in readiness for a quick retort but my hand is tugged sharply as Sebastian, standing, indicates that I’m to follow him. Oh no. Me and my smart mouth. Where’s he taking me? Leading me away from our hosts and past the dining table we reach our destination very quickly – the far corner of the orangery. Here Sebastian places his hands firmly on my shoulders and turns me to face the corner. He’s behind me, pressing his body against my back, and I want to protest that now is not the time nor place for seduction but think better of it. His lips brush my ear sending erotic sparks coursing down my spine and an involuntary moan escapes my lips.
“Why have I put you in the corner, Elizabeth?” he rasps, his breath is hot against my neck.
Giggling, I reply, “because you’re a dirty bugger but I don’t think this is the time or the place, Sebastian.”
He sighs heavily. His hand grasps a fistful of hair with which he tugs my head back painfully. I gasp, not expecting this at all.
“I’ll ask you again. Why have I put you in the corner?”
“Are you serious?” I’m now feeling less sure of myself, humiliated at the spectacle we are creating in front of our hosts. “Let me go, you’re embarrassing me.”
“As you have embarrassed me. You will stay here until I decide that you may rejoin our party. Do you understand, Elizabeth?”
“I’m not a fucking child,” I hiss.
“No. You’re not. You’re also not a very good submissive are you? I’ve been far too lenient with you so it’s about time I demonstrated that your bad behaviour will not go unpunished. Stay there. Don’t talk. Not a fucking word.” He returns to his seat and resumes his conversation.
