Girl Wife Prisoner

by Hanna Peach

  “Hime?”

  17

  My father called for my mother and they squabbled as they tried to share the phone receiver. There was a speaker button on their phone but they hadn’t learned how to work that yet.

  They told me that everyone was fine there and that my father had started chemotherapy. His surgery was scheduled in a few weeks’ time.

  “Where are you?” my father asked.

  “You know I can’t answer that.”

  “Just tell me…are you okay?” He couldn’t hide the worry in his voice.

  “I’m okay.”

  “When are you coming home?” my mother asked. “Noriko?”

  “I don’t know. Soon, I think,” I lied.

  “Hime,” my father’s voice broke, “just come home. Whatever you did for all this money, it doesn’t matter to us. We love you.”

  “But your treatments. Your surgery.”

  “I’d give up these treatments, surgery, everything. Just come home. Please, hime.”

  “I have to go,” I said, trying to keep the tearing sadness from my voice. “I promise I’ll try to call again soon.”

  I asked my parents to give each of my sisters a kiss and cuddle for me. I didn’t ask to speak to my sisters because I knew that this phone conversation would then last an age, each sister wanting to give me a full update and get one in return. I was conscious that this phone call was costing Keir, the very man whose eyes I could feel on me as I spoke.

  “Goodbye,” I said into the phone. “I love you.” And I hung up.

  “Is everyone okay?” he asked.

  I opened my mouth to answer but no words came out. Instead I heard myself let out a soft cry as the flood of emotion rushed up through my body, drowning me from the inside. My vision blurred from the tears.

  Instantly I felt Keir’s warm presence by my side, like a guardian angel. His arm slipped around my shoulders and he guided us both to sink down to the bench.

  “Oh my God,” he said, “your father…is he?”

  I shook my head and I started laughing as I cried. I must look crazy to him.

  “He’s fine,” I said. “They’re all fine. I just…” I didn’t know how to explain everything I was feeling. I didn’t know where to start or how to describe all these emotions overlapping and knotting into each other so that I wasn’t sure where one started and the other began.

  He squeezed my shoulder with his hand. “You miss them,” he said softly. “It must be overwhelming to speak to them again after…everything.”

  I nodded as I wiped my eyes. “Why do I always seem to end up crying in front of you?”

  “I know. I’m starting to develop a complex.”

  His face came back into view, his eyes soft and watching me closely. “You always seem to understand me,” I said.

  “You’re easy to understand.”

  “No, I’m not. Drake doesn’t understand me.”

  “Well, then you’re easy for me to understand.”

  “It’s weird,” I said with a small smile. “In a good way.”

  “If I could,” he said quietly, “I’d send you back to them. Even if it meant that you’d have to leave Blackwell Manor, I’d send you back to them.”

  My heart swelled even further. I turned my head away so he couldn’t see that his words had brought a fresh set of tears to my eyes.

  The silence grew awkward between us. His hand seemed to grow heavy on my shoulder. I don’t want to be friends with you.

  I shouldn’t linger.

  “Thank you for helping me.” I wiped my face once more time and dropped the phone into his hand, which he slipped into his pocket. “I better go.”

  I stood and walked towards the edge of the pergola. The rain was still drizzling, casting the garden around us in a muted misty light.

  “Noriko…”

  I paused.

  “Never mind,” he said.

  I turned to face him. “No, it’s something. Say it.”

  “I was going to ask you something but…”

  “Please, ask. You’ve just done me the most wonderful thing. If there’s anything I can do.”

  “This might sound stupid.”

  “Try me.”

  “Can we, just for a while, pretend that you aren’t you and I’m not me?”

  “Who would we be then?”

  “Anyone.”

  “Anyone?”

  “I just need…someone to talk to.”

  “And you want to talk to me?”

  “Yes. No. I don’t want to talk to Mrs. Riko Blackwell. I want to talk to the girl I found standing in my Japanese garden. The one I found so easy to talk to. I don’t think there’s anyone in the world who might understand me, except for her.”

  My throat went dry and it stuck when I tried to swallow. “And who would you be?”

  “Just a boy.”

  “You’re not just a boy.” You’d never be just a boy to me.

  “Is that okay?” he asked. “Can we just pretend?”

  “Pretend it’s a dream,” I said, a kind of lightness filling my lungs. If it were a dream then it wouldn’t be real and it wouldn’t be wrong. “We could pretend that this is all a dream.”

  “A dream.” He smiled. “I like that.”

  I walked back over to him and took my seat next to him. “Hi, I’m Noriko. I’m new here.” I stuck my hand out to him.

  He laughed softly. “My hands are still dirty.”

  “And I still don’t care.”

  He grew still and his eyes became serious. “Hi, Noriko.” He lifted up his hand to take mine. It was strong and warm and it engulfed my hand like a glove. Beautiful hands. The sheer touch of them made the skin all over my body tingle. “I’m Keir. I’ve been waiting here for you for a long time.”

  The rain drummed down creating a curtain around us. I could almost believe that dream-Noriko and dream-Keir were the only people in this world. If they were the only two people in the world, then I would…

  I pulled my hand out of his and gripped it in a fist in my lap before I did something stupid.

  “So, tell me something,” I said. “What could I understand that no one else could?”

  “You already know I grew up here. Working for the Blackwells was a path that was already laid out for me. My father never expected anything more from me.”

  Your father’s an idiot, I thought, but I kept this to myself.

  He continued, “For a long time I never thought I could do anything else. For a long time I wanted…things but I never thought I could be brave enough to actually try. You told me once I shouldn’t let go of my dreams… I just…”

  I get it. I get him. He needed someone on his side. All his life his father, his boss, everyone around him had been on the opposing side, trying to tell him where his place was, trying to keep him in the box they pulled up around him. He had never had anyone on his side. Until now.

  “What do you want to do?” I asked.

  His cheeks darkened a shade and he partially turned his face away. “You’re going to laugh.”

  “Probably,” I said with a smile and a nudge. “But tell me anyway.”

  He paused. I stayed silent and very still.

  “I want…” he said, “I want to join the circus.”

  My eyes widened. I turned towards him so that our knees bumped aside each other. “Of course!”

  He frowned. “Are you being sarcastic?”

  “No, silly. Of course you want to join the circus. It makes total sense. You’re a natural performer, you’re strong and can do all those amazing acrobatic things with your body. And you want to travel, which being part of a circus would give you. How did I not put this together myself?”

  A smile broke out over his face. “You get it.”

  “Of course I get it. So you want to join the circus. How do you do that?”

  “Well, here’s the thing…” He pulled a square of slightly damp paper out from his pocket and unfolded it before handing it to me. I
took it.

  It was a flyer. A colorful flyer with a picture of a big tent and a girl twisted up in a red sash hanging upside down with pointed fingers and toes. It read:

  Join the Cirque de Luna!

  Wanted: Acrobats, performers, dancers

  Auditions: Sat 20 June, starts 9 a.m.

  There was an address in Los Angeles and more details in smaller print further down. The audition was in less than two weeks and only a few hours from here. This was his chance. Right here. It was his chance to do what he wanted instead of being stuck here all his life.

  “You have to audition,” I said. “You must. If you don’t I’ll never speak to you again.”

  “Really?”

  “Truly, not a word. You should know by now that when I set my mind to something, then I will have it.”

  “I don’t doubt it. But that’s not what I was talking about.” He paused. “Noriko, if I audition I might get in. If I get in…”

  “You’d have to leave. I know.” I swallowed the knot in my throat. “You can’t stay. You don’t belong here.”

  “Neither do you,” he said quietly.

  “I don’t have a choice. You do. Promise me you’ll audition.”

  “Noriko, I−”

  “Promise me,” I said fiercely as I grabbed both his hands in mine, the flyer crumpling between us.

  His fingers linked into mine. “I promise.” He smiled softly at me. “I knew you would understand.”

  I nodded. But my mind was too full of what his audition might mean. If he got in, he would leave. Then what light would I have left to illuminate my prison?

  We sat in silence, our hands remaining linked, his thumb running slowly along the back of one of my hands. It felt like heaven, sending small ripples of pleasure up my arm. Our knees were touching. They felt like they were fused together as we both sat there turned towards each other.

  I felt wrapped in warmth and sweet peace. Being with him made me feel like…I was home. Even in this strange country, stuck in a cold mansion in a marriage I didn’t want, I had found a kind of home.

  “The rain has stopped,” he said after a time. “I guess this means we should go back.”

  “All dreams must come to an end.” I pulled back my fingers. After a moment’s hesitation, he let me go.

  We both stood and his shoulders and knees drew away from mine and my body emptied. I felt like I had lost something.

  “Maybe…” I bit my lip. “Maybe we can dream this again some time?”

  “No, we shouldn’t. Could we−?”

  “No, you’re right. We shouldn’t.”

  “It was such a good dream. I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to do it again,” he said, “I mean, really, it wasn’t that hard to just be friends, right?”

  “Right. It wasn’t that hard…”

  We stared at each other, the burning in my chest building until I couldn’t stand it. I looked away.

  “I’d walk you back,” he said, “but I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

  “No, it’s not.”

  “But I’ll see you later, friend?”

  I nodded. “I’ll see you later. Friend.”

  I was lying. He was lying. We were both lying through our teeth and we both knew it. We would never just be friends.

  But this audition changed things. He might leave. I might only have weeks left with him and this fact was quickly dissolving any last resistance I still had left.

  18

  Over the next few days Keir and I seemed to find some excuse or other to spend the hours together. Sometimes I’d watch him work, occasionally handing him a trowel or a hose. After he turned the hose on me I learned not to wear anything fancy to the gardens again.

  Sometimes he’d play hooky and we sneak through the gardens, avoiding his father, and he’d lead me to a section of the garden I had never been to before.

  Every day he caught me stealing glances at him and I caught him staring just as often. Every day our looks became more and more heated until I thought I was going to combust into flames and burn up into nothing.

  Each day we grew closer and closer towards the inevitable, the tension between us growing so thick I could feel it on my skin when I was near him. We walked a thin line, a tightrope without a safety net, and it was only a matter of time before one of us tipped.

  On his next day off, Keir had asked me to meet him in the gym. I walked nervously through the corridors, trying to be as casual as possible as I took a convoluted path through the mansion.

  I knew where all the cameras were inside the building, and I knew, thanks to Keir, how to walk through the mansion to avoid them. If anyone were to play back the tapes for today they would think I went down to breakfast then returned to my room, where I stayed.

  I prayed as I turned every corner that I wouldn’t bump into anyone on Drake’s staff.

  Finally, I turned the last corner and spotted the familiar double doors down the end of the hallway. By the time I pushed open the gym doors my heart was knocking against my ribs and my skin tingled with anticipation.

  My eyes darted around the room. Where was he? I stepped farther in, my feet coming onto the edge of the mat. “Keir?”

  “Sit down there. Right there. Don’t move.” I wasn’t even sure where his voice had come from because of the echo.

  “Keir, where are you?”

  “Just sit right there.”

  I lowered myself to the ground and sat on my calves, my knees bent, the backs of my feet flat on the mat. The lights dimmed except for a series of spotlights that lit up the entire area of the large cleared space. I shifted on the floor and waited, my nerves jittery.

  He appeared out of one side of the gymnasium. Now I could see there was a false wall there with a section behind it. He paused in the corner, just inside the spotlighted area and stood tall, chin lifted, one foot out positioned and pointed. His strong body was clad only in a pair of dark pants that flared slightly at the ankles, his glorious wide torso on display. He held something in his right hand but I couldn’t see it properly from where I sat.

  All at once music started to play from the speakers positioned in the corners of the ceiling. The soft lilting tune was so familiar. It was a traditional Japanese song but remixed with a modern bass beat to it.

  He started to move and I knew that this was the routine he meant to perform at his audition. He spun across the floor, his legs kicking around him like he was dancing. Then there was a flash of red and black in his right hand.

  It was an open fan, which he flapped around his face so only his dark eyes were showing. It flashed closed. Then suddenly he was using it like an extension of his hand. He performed a series of one-handed cartwheels with only the tip of the fan touching the ground.

  The music started to speed up, as did Keir. The fan flashed open and closed as he spun and turned. I clutched at my heart and my face, my mouth unhinged and swinging open. His tricks became more and more unreal and more and more dangerous. I squealed and trembled and bit at my nails as the excitement built up through my body.

  He was spinning and twirling so fast I could barely keep up with his movements. He looked inhuman, a blurry distant star, as he danced all around this space, using up every corner of the ground and the air. He and the music built and grew and flowed as if they were one and the same thing. As if the music was powered by him and as if he had been given life from the music.

  He paused briefly on the opposite side of the gym from me, and I knew that this was the finale. He jumped and leapt and spun in the air so high and so fast I felt dizzy, every movement bringing him closer to me. The music reared to a throbbing crescendo. He leapt in the air and flipped.

  There was a second of silence. In that moment, he seemed to slow to a complete stop in mid-air, he seemed to hover, the spotlight shining into his hair like a halo and his arms out to his sides, making shadows like wings.

  The cymbals crashed. Everything sped up as he flipped in the air once more and landed in a crouch r
ight in front of me, our eyes level, our faces inches from each other.

  All I could hear was the sound of his breathing. His firm chest moved in and out as his breath rushed around my face. Sweat beaded across his forehead and chest, gathering and descending in small rivulets.

  I couldn’t take my eyes off him. Every nerve in my body was tight and humming like the music was still going. Except it had stopped. Everything had come to a complete standstill. Even the world seemed to hold its breath.

  His eyebrows furrowed. “Did…did you like it?”

  My mouth opened but no sound came out.

  “For once you have nothing to say?” he joked lightly.

  “Keir…” I breathed, “I don’t know what to say.”

  “I still need to work on the−”

  “No,” I interrupted him. “If I were ever to be convinced that there was a God, you’ve just convinced me because I saw him work through you. That was divine, Keir.”

  He smiled and light radiated from his face. “You inspired me, Noriko. You make me believe that anything is possible. You are my muse, you’re my…”

  I couldn’t hold it in any longer. I leaned forward and pressed my lips to his mouth. I heard a soft clap as the fan he was holding fell to the mat.

  His lips were soft like silk. And yet firm as he pushed back against my mouth with a slight pressure. He tasted sweet and salty from his sweat, the combination making me want more. My tongue edged out of my mouth to graze at his lips. He parted them to let me in and our tongues met. My head spun. I was kissing Keir.

  Oh God, I was kissing Keir.

  What was I doing? I was a married woman and I was kissing Keir.

  He must be horrified at my behavior. I pulled back and searched his face for his reaction.

  “I-I…” he stuttered, blinking, as if he couldn’t believe I had the nerve to do what I did.

  “I’m sorry,” I said quickly.

  “You’re sorry? For what?”

  “I shouldn’t have kissed you.”

  “But I kissed you back.”

  “I know. But we shouldn’t have done it. I’m married.”

  “You’re married,” he repeated as if hearing it for the first time. “We shouldn’t have done it. I’m sorry.”