The knock on the door had Trish in a panic. She thought Jacques must have changed his mind about winning the Sevens tournament and returned. But Dave climbed off the bed, and walked to the front door, knowing it would be room service. He had ordered an assortment of things off the breakfast/brunch menu while Trish was sleeping, knowing they would both need energy if they were to go out again that night.
But when he opened the door, he found Jacquelyn outside, looking extremely nervous.
"Sorry, but can I come in and talk, please?" she asked.
Dave opened the door wide, ushered her in, and steered her into the lounge chair. "Wait there for a second. I'll go get Trish."
But when he turned to go to the bedroom, Trish was already standing in the doorway, tying up her robe. Jacquelyn saw her and apologised again.
"Sorry, I have lots of questions about dinner tonight. Noel is saying we aren't going, but I am coming no matter what he says."
Then the words just poured out of her, her excellent English becoming chaotic and mixed with French.
"What if I'm terrible? Will I have to sleep with more than one man? I'll be too sore from having any more, and I don't want him to hit me between the legs as they did with you this morning. I know I will faint with the pain."
Trish held her hand up to slow the torrent of words pouring from Jacquelyn's mouth, then looking at Dave, she asked, "Did Jacques hit me down there?"
"Yes, you were pretty out of it, but I thought you would have remembered that as he hit you quite hard with a little spatula at least five times, right on your clit. And Pierre was pinching your nipples pretty hard. But, funnily enough, I was more concerned about them than your clit."
Trish put her hand inside her robe and touched a nipple. "God, I wondered why they were so sore, but they're incredibly sensitive; just this robe rubbing on them has me thinking wicked thoughts."
Then she dug her hand between her legs, flinched and jerked her hand away.
Dave looked on with concern, "Are you alright? Is it really sore?"
Trish looked from Dave to Jacquelyn, "No! Well, maybe a little bit sore, but sensitive! Shit, you have no idea. If I touch it, I will be crawling on top of you again, whether Jacquelyn is in the room or not, and I haven't the energy."
Dave looked at Jacquelyn, "I have seen you and Noel around the last two days. You have been trying to catch my eye, I think. I also think that you're walking over to watch us this morning was not an accident. Was it?"
Jacquelyn went to answer, but at that moment, there was a loud knock on the door. Dave got up to let the room service boy in. He had ordered far too much, wondering what Trish would want to eat. There was cereal, croissants and jams, hotcakes, eggs, bacon, etc. He motioned Jacquelyn over to the table and insisted she ate with them. She resisted at first but admitted she was hungry, and soon they were all tucking into the food.
Jacquelyn finished first and started to talk. But Trish waved at her to slow down, "I speak a little French, but Dave doesn't, so take your time and stick to English, please."
Guiltily looking at Trish, she admitted trying to catch Dave's eye. "But I need to explain my situation so that you may have some understanding."
She told how she and Noel came from wealthy banking families and had known that they would marry since their teens. Their parents thought it would be a great match and cement the two businesses together. All her girlfriends were envious of her landing him, even though they knew she had little to say in the arrangement. He had always been attentive and kind, and, like her friends, she thought she was lucky to catch such a husband.
But once they were married, she found him to be different. He did not mistreat her; she had anything she could ever want, but there was little love. Noel went out with his mates more than her, and there was hardly any sex. The only time he paid her any attention was when he came to her bed and expected sex, and that did not happen very often.
"We sleep in separate rooms," she stated. And looking embarrassed, she carried on, "I was a virgin when we married, and I doubt Noel had slept with anyone other than prostitutes, as that's what I feel like when he comes to me. He just climbs on top, thrusts away, makes a mess, and returns to his bedroom, leaving me sore, frustrated and increasingly angry nowadays."
Trish interjected, "Divorce him. There are plenty of good men you could marry."
"That's out of the question. We are both from devout Catholic families, and besides, our Banks are in the middle of a merger, which will tie us together even tighter than the church. We have friends in similar situations, they live entirely separate lives, but it is not ideal."
She said she had tried getting him to come to counselling with her and to read books and articles in magazines that she picked out. But he was not interested. He just said that was how it was; she should be happy.