by Fabian Black
I can tell from your words you have a pure soul, a poet’s soul crying out for a mate to interact with. I understand your need for security, for validation, your need to submit to a man worthy of your love, respect and trust. Forget all other replies you may have had. They were from charlatans who know nothing about the synthesis of loving discipline between two people. I know. Your search has ended. Destiny has spoken. Are you ready to be guided in all things?
“Jesus, Dee-Dee.” I turned away from the computer screen to look at him. “It’s all a bit mystical, don’t you think?”
“I think he sounds wonderful.” Straightening his t-shirt he came over to the computer.
“No one talks like that. It isn’t normal.”
His dreamy look presented. “He’s old fashioned, just like...”
I interrupted. “Just like one of your uncle’s heroes. I’ve got news for you, Dee. Life isn’t a romance novel and you’re not one of your uncle’s heroines. You’re the wrong sex for a start. The guy sounds fucking weird. Don’t get involved with him.”
He looked bewildered. “What’s the matter, Simon? Why are you angry?”
“I didn’t mean to snap, sorry.” I pushed a hand through my hair. “I think you should be cautious is all. Have you written back?”
He nodded.
“What did you say?”
“I told him I was ready to be guided.”
“Christ! You know nothing about the man and yet you’re willing to put your life in his hands.”
“He isn’t going to perform surgery on me.”
“Promise you won’t let him rush you into anything.”
“I won’t. This is good. Be happy for me.”
“I want you to be happy, believe me.”
“I do.” He offered his arms. “Hug?”
I managed to calm my agitation enough to embrace him.
“Do you want to eat with me tonight, Si? I’ve got pizza in the freezer.”
“I’m tired. I’ve had a long day.” I pecked a kiss on his cheek. “I’m going to have a bath and an early night. I’ll catch up with you tomorrow. Are you coming for dinner?”
“Try and keep me away.”
In the event he kept himself away. He called the next morning to ask if I’d mind if he didn’t join me for dinner, as he had a messenger date with James lined up. It was a chance to chat and get to know him better. He’d come up later to have a drink and tell me all about it.
I did mind, but I had no claim on him. Who he talked with and how he spent his time was none of my business. If he didn’t want to have dinner with me there was nothing I could do about it. He was his own man.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
As it happened he didn’t come up on Saturday evening to tell me all about his cyber date. James kept him online until past midnight. He was too beat to do anything but phone to apologise and wish me a sleepy goodnight.
I didn’t see him on Sunday or Monday and caught only glimpses and brief words with him on Tuesday, because he was online talking with James or waiting for James to come online. In a way it reminded me of my James, not that he’d constantly called me, but I’d always been waiting and hoping he would. When we did talk I’d hang reverent on his every word like a bauble on a fucking Christmas tree.
I visited Dee-Dee early on Wednesday morning to see if he fancied a drive to the coast. The new term was looming. It would be one of the last opportunities to enjoy a day out during the week. He loved the ocean, and it was a perfect day for walking on the beach and sea gazing.
At first his face lit up at the prospect of a trip to the seaside, but not for long. It fell. “Can’t. I have to stay in for James.”
I tensed, folding my arms. “What do you mean, you have to stay in for him? Don’t tell me you’ve given him your address already. Is he coming over?”
“No. I mean I have to be sitting at the computer by ten this morning. He likes me to be punctual and waiting for him when he comes online.”
“Does he indeed.” I glared at him, gearing up to nag. Annoyance gave way to a sudden concern as I noted the dark rings under his eyes. “You look peaky. What’s wrong?”
“I’m a bit tired. Messaging is hard work. My neck is a bit stiff from sitting at the computer for so long.”
“He has no business keeping you online all day and into the early hours.”
“I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine. Have you eaten yet?”
He shook his head.
“I’ll make you some tea and toast.”
“Thanks, but no. I’m not allowed tea or coffee, or to break my fast until noon. James says caffeine and alcohol are poisons. I have to give them up. He says I have to learn to discipline my body before I can begin to discipline my mind. I have hot water and lemon juice on a morning and I’m allowed fruit at lunchtime.”
A convention of campanologists could not have rung their bells any louder than the ones clanging in my head. “You’ve only known this man a few days, if talking to him by bloody instant messenger can be called knowing, and you’re allowing him to dictate what you drink and when you eat. Who does he think he is, Svengali? Has he hypnotised you?”
“He has strong opinions and ideas. I respect them. I’m good with it, Si. I like it. This is what I’ve been looking for, a man who takes charge of me. He’s looking out for my health, taking care of my diet.”
“There’s taking charge and there’s taking over. How old is this man, what does he do for a living? He seems to have plenty of time to spend online dictating.”
“He’s forty and he runs some kind of Recruitment Company. He works mainly from home.”
“How convenient. What does he look like? Have you seen a photo of him?”
“Not yet. He says the relationship between us has to be established along spiritual lines before physical considerations are taken into account.”
“Let’s hope his teeth are a bit more proportionate than Norm’s. Has he seen a photo of you?”
“Yes. He said he needed to see what I looked like so he could direct positive energy towards me by picturing me when we’re talking online.”
“He sounds like a nut case with double standards.”
“You don’t understand.”
“You’re right, I don’t, Dee-Dee. I really don’t understand.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed, as if he were swallowing hard prior to making a controversial announcement.
“You mustn’t call me Dee-Dee anymore. James says it’s too childish a name and shows a desire to remain in the past. He says I need to move away from the past and focus on the future with him. I’m called Desmond from now on.”
“Listen to me, Desmond.” I grasped him by the shoulders and fixed my eyes on his face. “It isn’t normal for a man to behave in this way.”
“I know it might seem odd to the uninitiated, but it’s normal within the context of the relationship we’re trying to build.”
“It isn’t normal under any circumstances. You cannot allow anyone to exercise this much control over you. Fuck knows what he’ll go on to demand. Don’t get in any deeper with him. He sounds obsessive. Come out with me. It’s a gorgeous day. Get some fresh air. You’ve been cooped up in front of the computer for too long. No wonder you look washed out.”
“I can’t. I promised to be here. He’s made time in his busy schedule.”
“So he tells you.” I let go of his shoulders. “I’m going to visit mum at the weekend. Come along. We’ll go and see Jo and Pete. They got the wedding photos back at last and the DVD.”
“About time.” He grinned, showing a glimpse of his old self. “I’d love to go with you, but I’ll have to ask James’s permission first.”
“Ask his permission?” I couldn’t keep the incredulity out of my voice. “You don’t need to ask his permission. It’s your choice. It’s got nothing to do with him.”
“Of course it does. If we get together properly then he’ll be my head of house. I’ll have to refer
everything back to him, as a matter of respect for his position.”
“Jesus Christ, Dee-Dee! You’re scaring me. What happened to not letting him rush you into anything? You’ve dropped into a fantasy world. Talking of fantasy worlds, I don’t recall any of the heroes in your uncle’s books restricting diets or demanding name changes, unless it was a change of surname after marriage.”
“He’s doing nothing against my will, Simon.”
“I wonder if you really know what you’re getting into here. He sounds like a control freak to me. He recognised your vulnerability in that ad. He’s using it to brainwash you. You’ll end up not being able to think for yourself. You haven’t met him yet and already you’re letting him dictate your actions. God knows what else he’s capable of.”
“You’re overreacting, and sorry to keep saying it, but you don’t understand. He does. He gets the kind of relationship I want. He wants the same thing. If you’re worried about him hurting me, he won’t. We’ve talked and talked about it. He says he’ll only discipline me when he considers it absolutely necessary.”
“When HE considers it necessary? That could mean anything.”
“He says physical discipline won’t even be a consideration once I’ve learned to fully attune myself to being directed by him.”
I was so tense I almost jumped out of my skin as his computer pinged an alert to someone signing into messenger.
“There’s James. I’ll have to go.” He scurried towards the bedroom.
I stood for a few moments trying to calm my angry anxiety before following him into the bedroom. He was sitting staring intently at the computer monitor.
“So what’s your Master’s voice saying?”
Dee glanced at me. “He has things to do today, so he won’t be able to stay online long.”
“Good. There is a God then. It means you can come out with me after all.”
“I can’t, Si. He’s going to set me things to do to fill the day”
“What things?”
“Tasks.”
“Like what?” I indulged in sarcasm. “Cutting the grass with a pair of nail scissors, cleaning the floor with a toothbrush, lining up all the tins in your cupboards so the labels face the front?”
“Housework, meditating.”
“On what?”
“The nature of our relationship, and the form it will take.”
The computer pinged as a new message arrived.
It was rude of me, but I didn’t care. I walked up behind him and read over his shoulder.
When we are together there will be only one voice, mine. I will speak and you will listen and obey. Whatever I say goes and I say we will meet tomorrow. It is time. Mail your address. Do not keep me waiting. I expect you to be prompt and courteous in responding to all my requests.
I exploded. “For God’s sake! Where is he messaging from, a fucking asylum for scarily deluded megalomaniacs? That sounds like something out of a book Anne might write, or a scene she might play, only in her case she would know it was a fiction. This guy is playing another kind of game altogether and he sounds like he believes it. Don’t give him your address. Tell him you need some time to think. Tell him it’s too soon to meet.”
Another message appeared on screen before he had time to respond to me.
Answer me! Remember, disobedience has consequences.
“He’s browbeating you. Tell him to fuck off.”
“Simon, please. I have to meet him sometime. I want to.”
“Why does he want to come here? Ask yourself. Why not his place? It doesn’t smell right, Dee-Dee. Meet him if you must, but somewhere neutral, and public.”
“Desmond, you have to call me Desmond.”
Another damn message popped up. Obviously Desmond was a lot faster with his responses when I wasn’t around interrupting him and James had twigged.
You have someone with you?
Dee typed, ‘my friend Simon.’
The response was as quick as lightening
Tell him to leave, or shall I leave?
“He’s emotionally blackmailing you.”
“Si, please.” Dee-Dee turned to me, looking confused, and tearful. “Let me talk to James.”
“You want me to go?”
He nodded.
“Fine.” I raised my arms in a gesture of defeat. “I’ll go. Take my advice at least. Don’t allow him to bamboozle you into giving your address. Meet him in a public place tomorrow. Insist upon it. Will you let me know what you decide?”
He stood up, putting a hand on my shoulder. “I’m okay, Simon. Don’t worry so much about me.”
“I do worry though.” His mobile was on the bedside cabinet. Grabbing it I tucked it into the pocket of his jeans. “Call me if you need to talk. I mean it. If something,” I jerked a thumb at the monitor, “he says bothers you, call me and we’ll talk it through. I’ll see you later.” I walked out of the room at a brisk pace, before I gave way to an urge to unplug his computer and drag him away from it.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
I drove to the coast anyway. I needed to clear my head and where better than the seaside. The beach was crowded. Families were out in force making the most of the fine weather and the last days of summer freedom before school started again. The squeals and cries of happy children competed with the harsh screech of seabirds. The tide was out. I walked by the waterline watching my footprints appear and disappear in the water logged sand.
I was disturbed by the rapid turn of events. I knew online relationships could move fast and become intense, if not obsessive in the space of hours let alone days. It was a modern phenomenon, providing a wealth of new fodder for psychologists to journal about. The combination of physical distance, anonymity and emotional confession created an alluring atmosphere, which was hard to replicate in a real life relationship. Within minutes of meeting a person online you could be revealing your deepest darkest desires to them without so much as looking into their eyes. It was a liberating drug, until it became a barbed wire addiction you got caught in.
I suspected the ‘florid’ James as much as Dee-Dee was acting on a long held fantasy, which was fine if it stayed an online fantasy and played out in words. What bothered me was the speed at which James was trying to move the relationship offline and into real life. He seemed like a man with an agenda who sensed he’d found a means of fulfilling it.
An unpleasant memory returned of a horror case at the school I’d served my probationary year in. A young female student had struck up a relationship with a man online. He’d used her vulnerability, her low self-esteem and her longing for ‘love’ to ensnare her. Over a space of days he convinced her they were lovers meant to be together. She was fifteen and he was in his forties with a face that would once have been described as ‘ill favoured.’ Yet she believed he was her white knight, because she wanted to. He lured her to a secret meeting where he raped and strangled her to death.
I looked out across the sea, lifting my face to the clement breeze. Dee wasn’t a child by any means, but he had a childlike naivety about certain things. James seemed to personify the qualities of the impossibly dominant man he fantasised about and he was reaching for him with both hands.
I kicked at a pebble embedded in the soupy sand, loosening it with my toecap. Maybe I was being paranoid, or plain jealous. Given my feelings for Dee I was bound to resent anyone who showed an interest in him. A ridiculous thought popped to mind. What if this James character had a white van?
I picked up the pebble, intending to further abuse it by hurling it towards the sea. It was pretty. I rubbed away damp sand to examine it, a sepia oval, banded with tones of rose, as if painted by the rising and setting rays of the sun. I slipped it in my pocket. Dee would like it.
I could do nothing other than monitor the situation. If Dee-Dee did decide to allow James to invade the sanctity of his home the next day, then I’d hang around like a well-intentioned stalker ready to intervene if he tried to bundle Dee into a white van. No nutt
er was driving off with a man I cared about.
Cheered by my imaginary heroism I treated myself to a fish and chip lunch. Afterwards I had a stroll along the promenade, squandered some small change playing the fruit machines and had an ice cream cone and a final walk on the beach before heading homewards. Before driving off I thought about phoning Dee-Dee, but decided against it. It smacked of invading his privacy and his right to make decisions on his own behalf. I’d call on him when I got home.
I was yoo-hooed as I made my way from the car park to the bakery. I looked around, scanning the grounds. It was Sue, calling from the garden area.
“Simon,” she shouted, one hand clamped to a floppy cotton sun hat to stop it falling off, the other waving me to come over. “We’ve been looking out for you.”
I walked over to where she, Bob and Mrs Royston were relaxing in deckchairs on the lawn, soaking up the sunshine.
“What’s this then, a sunbathing committee?”
“We’re making the most of our day off, and the weather,” grinned Bob. “You don’t get many days like this to the pound of an English summer, especially this late in the season.”
“True,” I grinned back.
“Have you seen Dee-Dee today?”
“This morning, Sue, why?”
The three of them glanced at each other in a way that made my guts knot with apprehension. “Is there a problem?”
“It’s probably nothing,” said Bob, in a let’s retain a sense of proportion voice. “Edna is concerned something may be wrong.”
“In what way?” I looked at her.
“I didn’t say I was concerned, Bob.” She gave him a haughty look and then turned to me, tipping back her head to peer at me from beneath the brim of her pink straw sun hat. “Your friend has always been a nuisance neighbour, but he’s never been a noisy one. I heard sounds from his apartment a few hours ago, what sounded like a shout and things breaking. It stopped me settling down for my lunchtime nap. I knocked on his door to complain, but there was no answer.”
