by Amy Cross
"You'll come home with me," Mark says eventually, once we're both dressed. "We need to..." He pauses for a moment, barely able to look me in the eye. "There are certain things you need to know. The game is complex, and you need to understand your role. Is that okay?"
"Do I have a choice?" I ask.
"Of course you have a choice," he says. "You've always had a choice, and you always will".
"It's okay," I reply. "I'll come with you".
"You've been through a lot tonight," he continues.
"Yeah," I say, although I'm starting to worry about how I'm going to fit all of this in. I'm supposed to be heading back to Bristol tomorrow, but it seems Mark's expecting me to stay. It's not that I'm completely averse to staying, but at the same time I need to know what's going to happen while I'm here, and how long this is going to last. I can call my tutor in Bristol and arrange to defer the rest of my course until the summer, but I need to know that there's something here with Mark that's worth pursuing.
"You must have some questions," he continues. "I can answer those. For now, we need to go home".
"Home?"
"My home. The hotel".
"Sure," I say. "The hotel".
The drive back to the Castleton is quiet and a little tense. I want to ask Mark what he's thinking and feeling, but I'm certain that he wouldn't tell me the truth. It's as if he's started to fold in on himself, shrinking until he's no longer emotionally connected to me. He hasn't asked me how I'm feeling, or even what really happened with Mr. White; he seems to have switched roles, and now he's acting more like a chauffeur or a supervisor than a... I take a deep breath. What do I want him to be? The word 'boyfriend' sounds so weak and childish in this context, but the word 'lover' doesn't seem to apply either. Glancing over at him, I realize I have no idea how he feels about me, but his cold, disconnected attitude suggests his feelings don't run very deep. I'm worried he just sees me as some kind of sexual toy.
"So what now?" I ask a little later, as we step back into his penthouse suite. The sun's early morning rays are bathing London in a warm glow as the city wakes up, but my natural tiredness is countered by an extraordinary sense of nervousness. I feel there's something huge headed my way, but I can't see it yet; I can only feel the ground trembling as it approaches.
"You must be tired," Mark replies.
"You too," I say.
He shrugs.
"I'm kind of hungry," I add, realizing I haven't eaten since early yesterday evening.
"Call housekeeping," he says, sliding his phone over to me. "Order anything you want. Don't worry about the price. I have an account". He pauses for a moment. "Order something for me as well. Anything's fine; I'll just have what you're having. I'm going to take a shower".
Feeling as if I'm close to starvation, I end up ordering two huge breakfasts, which Mark and I share more or less silently. Something definitely seems to be broken between us, but I'm scared to ask what's wrong. Eventually I go through and take a shower, cleaning off the mess from the night's activities; when I return to the main room, wearing just a dressing gown, I realize that Mark is through in the bedroom. I walk over to the door and watch as he strips naked, and suddenly I realize that we're going to sleep together in the same bed. It's weird, but actually going to sleep next to him feels far more intimate than having sex with him.
"Is something wrong?" I ask eventually, walking over to the bed.
"No," he replies. "Of course not".
"You seem different".
"In what way?"
"Like you don't quite want to look at me". I pause, hoping he might start to open up. "I didn't enjoy it," I add.
"Didn't enjoy what?"
"The stuff I did with that Mr. White guy. I mean... If you're thinking that I..." My voice trails off; I'm really not sure what to say. "It was okay, and I don't regret it, but it wasn't the same as with you, and... I just want you to know that I only did it because I knew you wanted me to, and -"
"You think I'm jealous?" he asks suddenly, staring at me. Finally, a smile crosses his lips. "Elly, I'm just tired and..." He sits on the bed; I walk over and sit next to him, still wearing the dressing gown. "The game is dangerous," he says eventually. "If you'd failed tonight..."
"What?" I ask. "What would have happened? Would you have spanked me?"
He stares at me, and for a moment I think I see a hint of tears in the corner of his eyes. "Other girls have failed," he continues. "It happened so often, I almost got used to it. I learned to close myself off from it; to ignore the pain. And now, suddenly, here you are. I was so certain you'd fail. Not because I doubted you in particular, but because the game is so remorseless and firm. Frankly, I thought no-one could ever pass. I thought I'd led you to..." He pauses again. "And now you've succeeded, and you're onto the next level. Only one person has ever got to this stage before..."
"And that was Alice?" I ask.
He nods. "You must refer to her as Lady Red, though," he says. "Never Alice".
"What about you?" I ask. "Do I have to refer to you as Mr. Blue?"
He pauses. "When we're with the others, yes. But when we're alone, you can call me Mark".
"And do I have a code name?"
"No. You're just Elly".
"Damn," I reply, hoping to get him to smile properly. "I was hoping I'd be Miss Purple or something".
"In private, you can be anything you want," he says. "You can call me Mark, and I'll call you Miss Purple". He laughs. "The other important thing, Elly, is that you must never, ever let anyone know about the game. If you breathe a word of this to an outsider, the consequences will be severe".
"You make it sound like Mr. White's gonna sneak up behind me and cut my throat," I say, smiling.
"Just don't keep your mouth closed," he continues. "You're going to be spending a lot of time with me, so you need to tell your family something. Come up with something convincing. If it helps, I can arrange to offer you an internship with one of my companies. That way, you can pretend you're doing something else".
"I'll tell them I met a guy," I say. "I mean, it's kind of true".
There's silence for a moment. I feel like I'm poised between two realities: in one, I'm Mark's girlfriend, albeit in difficult circumstances, and I'm trying to get him to open up to me emotionally; in the other, I'm an idiot who has allowed herself to fall for an emotionally crippled guy who only wants to use her for some arcane sex game. I wish I could work out what exactly is happening, but for now I can't bring myself to pull away. My mind keeps telling me that I should be careful and that this is crazy, but my body wants more.
"So I'm supposed to go back to Bristol tomorrow," I say eventually. "I kind of have a life of my own. London was supposed to be just a temporary thing after my father died, and..." I take a deep breath. I never thought I'd be the kind of girl to drop everything for a man. I swear to God, if Jess or one of my other friends did something like this, I'd be stunned. I can't shake the feeling that one day, I'm going to step back and realize what a huge mistake I'm making. Then again, walking away right now would also feel like a mistake. It seems like I have to choose between two very different mistakes.
"Delay your plans," Mark says. "There's no way you can leave right now".
"Are you asking me to stay," I reply, "or are you ordering me?"
"I'm just telling you the situation," he says. "By starting to play the game, you made a commitment".
"A commitment to who?"
"To the game". He pauses for a moment. "To all of this. To me".
I nod, realizing he's right. Whatever I've got myself into, I feel like I can't back out. After a moment, I lean over and kiss him on the cheek; to my surprise, he kisses me back, while reaching a hand under the dressing gown and gently touching my left breast. I'm exhausted, and I just want to sleep, but at the same time I feel electrified by Mark's touch. My body starts to tingle and I realize I want him again.
"Mr. White was kinda rough," I whisper, kissing his neck.
"
All part of the game," Mark replies, leaning down and gently sucking on my nipple.
I pause for a moment. "Is this part of the game? I mean, what we're doing right now".
"No," he says, kissing all over my breast. He shifts position slightly, and I see he has an erection. As he tilts me back onto the bed, I open my legs and allow him to climb on top of me. I'm so tired and confused, I feel as if I don't have the energy to make love; at the same time, there seems to be something particularly soft and gentle about the way Mark is touching me right now, and I'm starting to get wet.
"So what are we doing?" I ask as he reaches down and guides the tip of his penis into me. "Do we have something that's separate from the game?"
"We do," he replies as his penis slides all the way inside. He leans down and kisses the side of my neck and he starts to slowly make love to me. Maybe I'm imagining things, and maybe I'm completely deluded, but it feels like this is far more tender than before. Opening my legs a little wider, I reach around and run my hands over his back. I want to ask him more questions, but it feels as if the time for talking is over. With the sun having finally risen outside, we make love slowly and quietly; the only sound is the occasional gasp as we get closer and closer to orgasm, and finally we cum together.
Seven
1896
Just before dawn, Mr. White and I carry Clarice's body down toward the river. She's wrapped in a large cloth bag, and I can feel through the fabric that her limbs are already starting to stiffen. My bad leg, which is starting to hurt a little, makes it a little hard for me to keep going, but eventually we reach a small wooden quay. There's no pause to mark Clarice's passing; Mr. White simply hauls his end of the bag over the edge, and I have no choice but to let go and watch as Clarice hits the water and sinks into the depths. There are a few ripples on the water, and some bubbles of air, but finally she is gone.
Mr. White turns to me for a moment, before walking back to the side of the quay. I get the feeling that he doesn't like me; it's as if he doesn't agree with Lady Red's decision to bring me into the fold, but it seems he lacks the ability or the willingness to challenge me directly. Ever since we got dressed and left the party, there has been a simmering tension in the air. There's something extremely menacing about Mr. White's demeanor, and I have no doubt that great violence lurks beneath his veneer of respectability. So dark and ill-meant is his expression, in fact, that it's somewhat hard to remember that this man is known throughout London as a respected Member of Parliament. If only his constituents knew the truth about his nocturnal activities.
"Another one dispatched to the deep," Lady Red says as we rejoin her at the side of the river.
"It's late," Mr. White says, turning and walking away. "I'll be in touch".
"He seems unhappy," I say once he is out of earshot.
"He's always unhappy," she replies, her gaze fixed on the water. "Tonight, though, he's in a particularly foul mood".
"Because of me?"
She takes a deep breath. "He doesn't trust you".
"I don't blame him".
"True," she says, "but he doesn't trust my judgment, and that's a bigger problem".
"Perhaps it's a mistake to bring me into your confidence," I say. "I mean, if it causes problems, it might be better to -"
"No," she says, turning to me. "He'll get used to it. Besides, I can't allow him to think he can challenge my authority. Among the three of us, I am the one who chooses new members". She shivers for a moment, and I immediately remove my coat and place it over her shoulders. "Thank you," she says, smiling at me.
"Come this way," I say, leading her back toward the road. "It's cold out here".
As we walk in silence, I find myself uncertain as to Lady Red's motives. On the one hand, I still cannot trust her entirely, and it's possible that she is attempting to lull me into a false sense of security; on the other hand, there seems to be something very genuine about her tiredness and sadness, and I can't help thinking that she doesn't really enjoy playing the game. Up until tonight, I had written her off as some kind of sadistic fiend, ruling the other players with an iron fist, but now I have begun to see a whole new side to her.
"You must not become too involved, Mr. Pope," she says as we approach bridge. "The players are required to maintain a professional and discreet relationship at all times. I'm sure you understand what I mean".
"I understand very little," I reply. "I must admit, I'm at a loss to see why the game is so important. It seems to give you nothing but heartache".
"You'll see," she says, stopping and turning to me. "You're at the start of a journey, Mr. Pope. The road ahead is going to be extremely difficult. Many have taken this route before, and their bodies have piled up one by one. There is something about you that makes me think you might be different, but it's very possible that I am merely deceiving myself. The most important thing is that you keep a clear head".
I stare at her for a moment. "So what happens next?"
"I shall send for you in the next few days," she continues. "You need to know how to proceed. Until then, you must begin to look around for suitable candidates. The game needs young women; it consumes them. As the new Mr. Blue, you have a responsibility to feed the game, but you must not be too eager. Wait until you find the right young woman. Test her. Explore her. Determine whether she is suitable to be taken deeper into the game. You saw this evening how Clarice fell apart once she was tested. No girl has ever gone further. If you can find the right girl..." She pauses for a moment. "If you can find the right girl, Mr. Pope, the game can end, and we can all be free".
"I shall try my best," I say, aware that such words sound cheap and empty.
"As for the kiss we shared earlier," she says, "I must admit that I was weak. I should never have allowed that to happen. You must promise me that you will never breathe a word of this mistake to anyone else".
"I promise".
"After tonight," she says, "it can never happen again. We must maintain a professional relationship, but..." She stares into my eyes. "I believe we can kiss one final time, if you wish".
"I do," I say, leaning closer. Our lips touch, and I wrap my arms around her, pulling her close to me. As our tongues meet, I feel her energy enter my body, and I have to fight the urge to slip my hands beneath the fabric of her dress. I know it's wrong, but at this exact moment, I desire nothing more than to take her home, make love to her, and then extricate her from this cursed game. As the kiss continues, I start to feel a curious wet sensation against my face; when I pull away, I see that tears are streaming down her cheeks.
"If you -" I start to say.
"Quiet," she says, her voice weak and faltering as she places a finger against my lips. "When we meet again, Mr. Blue, we shall both have put away these feelings".
"But if -"
"No!" she says firmly, sniffing back the tears. "Do not make this unnecessarily difficult".
"What if I resign?" I ask. "What if I change my mind about becoming Mr. Blue? I can take you away from here, away from the game. You don't have to play, not if you would rather be free".
She shakes her head. "There can be no going back for either of us. The only way to escape this thing is to move forward. The very best thing you can do right now is to find the right girl. Find the girl who can win the game. This is the only solution. Do you understand?"
I nod, realizing that she is totally committed to the game's complexities. If I am to free her, I must do it in a way that calms her mind. She believes herself to be tied to the game in a manner that precludes her escape, but I am determined to find a way to get her free. If I cannot simply pull her away, I shall have to do as she says; I shall have to find a girl who can win the game. Only then, once this pantomime is over, do I have a chance of saving her.
"We shall speak soon," she says, taking a deep breath before turning and hurrying away.
"Wait!" I call out. "I shall escort you home!" She does not reply, however, and I am left to watch as she disappears into the shado
ws of the night. After a moment, I turn and begin the long walk home. Of all the ways this night could have proceeded, I never considered the possibility I might get under Lady Red's skin and start to understand the mania that keeps her tied to the game. I walk slowly through the dark streets, and eventually the dawn's early rays begin to light the city. All around me, London is springing to life, but I can think of one thing, and one thing only: the sadness in Lady Red's eyes as she kissed me, along with the possibility that I might one day lift that sadness and set us both free.
Eight
Today
"Have you got your ticket?" my mother asks as we hurry across the station concourse.
"Yeah," I say, just keen to get this whole thing over with.
"Are you sure?" she says. "Let me see it".
"I've got my ticket," I say again. "I swear. Why wouldn't I have my ticket?"
"Have you got a seat reserved?" she asks.
"I don't know".
"Well take a look".
Sighing, I stop dead in my tracks and reach into my jacket pocket, fishing about for a moment until I finally pull out my train ticket. "Not reserved," I say, flashing it at her. "But I've definitely got my ticket. See? I won't end up having to walk back to Bristol".
She nods. "You don't want to end up being fined," she says as we carry on, heading over to the area where the large screens are displaying the departure times of all the trains leaving Paddington in the next few hours. "Delayed," my mother says suddenly, pointing at one of the screens. "That's your train, isn't it?"
My heart sinks as I see that she's right; there's a forty-five minute delay showing for my train. "It's okay," I say, "you can just get going. I can hang around and wait".
