Today she arrived home, and he was a changed man in her presence. I had seen slight glimpses of his servility earlier that year at his birthday party, which I had just mistaken for his infatuation with a beautiful woman. Many men behaved that way in her presence. His submissive traits were exposed in the way he would hurry to light her cigarette or linger to open a door or pull up a chair where she may be seated. This chivalrous behavior looked strange on him. I had to confess until the appearance of Birgitte women for him only seemed objects of lewd derision.
She passed me in the hallway, she did not greet me but just laughed loudly, harshly, the sound reverberating off the cavernous walls of the great room. "You sure know how to bury yourself alive." She turned to him and said. "You really think your brother will be so pleasant when he finds she is here? You dumb fuck." She walked about behind him and pinched his bandaged, damaged shoulder hard, her elegant diamond clustered fingers finding the weakness there of his recently broken collarbone. He tried to suppress the groan and found he could not do so. He fought not to drop her heavily laden suitcase on the marble tiles. "He will beat you bloody, but not before I do." He looked at her, and she met his eyes with deadly coldness. "Take that upstairs."
Birgitte smiled at me callously then. "You should not be here," she said. "But oh well, you are. Svend will come for you eventually." She tossed her head and headed upstairs leaving me alone.
What now?
I had never felt so lost or awkward.
Would they argue, would I just be tossed out onto the street in the rain?
I felt stupid, I felt sick. I had done this to myself.
I lingered on the ground floor waiting to hear raised voices or for one of them to appear on the landing, but all was quiet. I fidgeted I waited, the lot of a slave...........
Hours passed, and my only company was the loud workings of the stately grandfather clock to mark the slow passage of time. Three p.m. and I felt like I had been waiting in a rather elaborate Doctor's surgery for a desperately sought appointment. I was fidgeting wondering what madness had led me here. Yet I thought about the psychiatrist I had been forced to attend at Svend's behest and it didn't seem so crazy. I was at least free of that here, free to be me. I did not have to question what I did, or what I was. No one cared least of all I, though I sensed my future was hers to decide.
"Lidia?" I looked up, she was on the landing in nothing more than her ebony underwear, she looked good in it, or should I rephrase delicious. I guessed they had been participating in some conjugal enjoyment. "Come here will you." She turned the line of her perfect body gracefully in her departure. I could see why he was captivated by her.
I ascended the stairs, and the door stood ajar I could see Frej was on the floor face down in a hogtie, she had made no exception over his shattered collarbone, most cruel of her. As I crossed the floor into the bedroom proper I became aware he was breathing hard, obviously in great pain. He looked at me and craned his head to look at her. "No Birgitte, don't involve her."
"Do shut up! You are the dolt who brought her here." She kicked him with her pointed stiletto in his bad side, he yelped and went quiet putting his head back to rest on the floor, conserving his strength. "He doesn't like it when you play, it seems to bother him.' She giggled superficially at me.
"Tell me Lidia in all your long years with Frej have you ever wanted to hit him?" What a loaded question, well yes I had, but would I, well no. Only in some closed fantasy daydream, but never for real.
"Why don't you?" She invited, pressing a stout riding crop into my hands. He was not looking at me nor at her. "It's not hard girl, and I assure you once you start it's easy."