Today, to my horror I spied him watching the house from his red Corvette. The familiar throaty rumble of it drew me to the window. I held dear Suki clutched over my racing heart. He drove past slowly but he never entered the driveway. He was alone. He's back then and I am still obviously very much at the forefront of his mind, married or not.
I saw Frej again today. I watched him in fascination from behind the bastion of the safety of Master Svend's locked walls. He was still handsome, and I will not lie he drew me, just as he always had the power to. He seemed unchanged by her treatment. This time he parked his car in the street and sat looking at the front of the house. I gazed at him in breathless anticipation, he looked well, strong, and very much in control to outside eyes. Eyes that did not know him.
Did he see me? I hoped not, yet I found I could not leave my place at the window. Memories of darker days flooded my consciousness, my skin tingled to watch his predatory assessment. He would have me if he could.
I wondered did his wife know he came by here? I found my mind wandering to what she might do to him if she knew? It was a strangely arousing thought.
He opened the car door and got out. I froze, a sickness enveloping me. He was walking to the front door, and he had an envelope in his hand. He lingered there for some moments but he did not choose to knock. I heard the scrape of the mail flap and my heart did somersaults as Suki always eager for newness and a game ran to the door to greet the envelope that lay there.
I finally assumed the courage to pick up the envelope, but not until I was sure he had left the portico. I tingled to think it had been in his hands only minutes before. I tore open the heavy cream paper, inside was a note, and accompanying this note was a large wad of high denomination kroner notes. I put the paper it housed within to my nostrils, I was disappointed in its scent, it held no more than the traces of a woman's perfume and the stink of money.
"I love you Lidia, I want you back." The note said in childish scrawl. Which I knew to be his. "Buy yourself something from me. Love Frej." The paper trembled in my hands. I was uncertain how to proceed. Money lots of it, enough to do many things, buy a fancy bauble, or even run away if I wished. If I did not tell my Master I could hide it, keep it as a safety net should things become rough. An escape route that until now I had never possessed. So for good or bad hide it, I did.
If he still read this I would know and would explain, if not it was my secret.
*****
Sometimes the most sinister things can begin in great innocence, yes I am no stranger to such events. To begin with I know Master Svend was torn but at his mother's insistence he finally relented and let the three of us, Mrs Eriksen, myself, and Birgitte go shopping.
The day before he had presented me with a shiny credit card. "It's hard to shop without money." He said. "And maybe it will be good for you."
Though I could sense the hesitation in his voice. I too was unsure of the gesture, though I trusted Mrs Eriksen to keep me safe. I guess he did as well or he would not have agreed.
It should have been just a simple shopping trip and a cup of coffee at the coffee shop. Birgitte said that's what women like us did. She seemed to love nothing more than to spend his money. Mrs Eriksen was I confess not far behind in the spending stakes. So plastic cards in hand these women set out to deplete their men of their wealth. I on the other hand shopped hesitantly and bought little, though I did have a good time and was overjoyed to be with my potential mother-in-law even if it meant basking in the company of my new 'sister.' It was all in all a pleasant day.
He had given me a cell phone, he had even called to see if I was okay as we lingered over expresso. I assured him I was, and I was having a lovely time. He sounded happy my trip was a success and looked forward to this evening, our special time alone.
Shortly after Mrs. Eriksen felt unwell and Birgitte assured her she would take me home, she should not trouble herself but go home and rest. She listened to her dear daughter's advice, hugging us goodbye. It was just Birgitte and I. She was only five years older than I but those short years seemed a gulf of knowledge and wisdom to me. She had after all seen the world and I virtually nothing. She was so confident, so strong, like a tigress, or an amazon. She could move rigid stone walls with naught more than a smile. I had to confess I wished as I watched her, I could be like her. Oh to change places with Lidia the girl afraid of shadows.
She was taking me home in her brand new car, a silver Mercedes SLR he had recently bought her. People stared at us, she smiled and laughed her haughty laugh. She was as always best before an audience.
Her stately multi-storied home, Tuscan, ochre stucco and terra cotta loomed into view. High-walled gardens, expansive and green. She looked at me with wickedness in her lovely eyes. "I have something I want to show you Lidia." Her home I had never visited. Master Svend had, but I had never accompanied him there. Should I trust her or should I call Master? He was just a few minutes away. "Come," she invited and I followed past the bold stone lions that stood like sentinels by the iron-bound front doors, skirting a cheerful Italian marble fountain. Finally, I would see the contents of that real estate brochure, he had really bought this enormous place.
Black marble on the foyer floor ran in all directions, and enormous white columns reached the lofty ceilings. Sheets of unadulterated glass rising skyward. It made Master Svend's home look decidedly mundane. I looked across the broad expanse of the formal great room, there was an enclosed lap pool beyond visible through the French doors and a vast arboretum. She was setting down her shopping, and that was when I caught sight of him.
He was on all fours chained to a pillar, shackled in steel cuffs joined by heavy iron chains, he looked distressed. Though I could not determine the cause. He stared at me wildly, his hair hanging in his eyes, all the chained animal, the captive beast. I paused, and she saw.
"He can't hurt you silly girl," she laughed disdainfully. Her metal spiked heels tapped on the marble. "I thought you of all people might get something out of viewing him."
How could he stoop to this, how! Surely he had not engaged in such humiliation of his own accord. She had left him there all this time while we were shopping, knowing he was chained in discomfort and helpless. My guess was his submission to her was supposed to be private and she had violated his trust. I should not stare, nor wallow in his misery, However, my eyes were inexorably drawn to him, there was some compelling allure in seeing brute power thus subjugated.
She passed him by inquiring if I wanted a drink, I declined, and she poured herself one with easy grace. He was now looking at the floor I could see the angry red stripes on his back, the skin was broken in places. She walked back toward him she had taken up a stout black riding crop from the top of the bar cabinet, and in passing she slapped him with it hard. There was an audible thud. He flinched but remained silent.
"He says he still wants you Lidia, can you imagine that?" My hand was in my pocket on my phone I really should not be here. I could not believe she was doing this to him. "Don't you my love," she accused, pushing the whip beneath his chin and looking intently into his eyes. He grunted but did not reply, he was fighting with something, his mind, his pain, his discomfort. I was most unsure.
"You hate him you want revenge, don't you sister?" Birgitte appealed, her eyes shone, and the corner of her luscious lips curled. He was breathing hard fighting against his own reflexive desire. "Want to hear him yell? Want to hear him cry and beg? I know you are more than just curious?" This was not my place and yet........."You do, don't you?" She had picked up on my tentative pause and my morbid fascination with his predicament.
"LOOK AT HER!" She slapped him hard in the side of the face holding no reserve, the way one may strike at a recalcitrant beast of burden. He winced, and I jumped. However, it was not me Birgitte's sadism was directed toward. He had her focus, yes, I was merely the audience and I soon realized a catalyst in her terrible game. I was dumbfounded, how could she be so confident after she did free him he would not just turn on her? There was something I did not understand in her power, or was she just that blind.
The grandfather clock denoted the hour of six, the chime classic Westminster reverberating in the cavernous foyer. "Oh," she said in surprise. "You need to be home." She trod on his hand, it was a deliberate 'accidental' gesture. He yelped as the metal spike of her heel made to puncture his hand, retracting it quickly. He almost overbalanced and fell. "You can have your medicine when I get home." She called to him over her shoulder as she collected her handbag. I shivered, she sure knew how to play this game of total power exchange.
From that day forward I had invited myself to engage in a dark duplicity, a sisterhood of cruelties, one I never shared with his elder brother. The frequent shopping trips were just a convenient prelude to the things she loved to show me afterward.
Tomorrow he would read it. I would not have to relate it to him. It was becoming our way, the best way for me to communicate the things I could not bring myself to say. I was unscathed, there was no harm done. Possibly my Master would only be amused. I sat on the lounge after dinner with Master Svend showing him what I had purchased with his plastic money. A new dress and some winter sweaters, a pair of irresistible shoes. I hoped he approved? His smiles told me he did. However my mind was far from the moment, it was on Frej.
*****
Sometimes I stand and listen to Frej's voice as he speaks to the answering machine, he did so today. He was not calling for me, and if he was he never left a message that would incite his brother. Today's message was long, maybe he hoped I would pick up? He was trying to explain he was ready to go back to work and wanted to. In his tone, he was almost begging. He had never begged me for anything except once when he was high and ill in the bathroom, and that's over something I will not divulge here.
I found as he spoke pleading to be reinstated, my fingers wandering to a place of pleasure down below. He was now pleading with Master Svend to make a good case for him to his father, it was true that Frej had been a very hard and diligent worker in the company. He had the capacity to work physically harder than I had ever seen Master Svend do. It did seem unfair they had pensioned him off, but I guess they were afraid of some kind of irresponsible sabotage. Which I am sure he was highly capable of, though to be honest he had never gone to such a place in his professional capacity, no not once. It seemed a cruel exile even to my eyes.
