The Journal (Her Master's Voice) (8 page)

I growled under my breath. He was enjoying this. While I stood there suffering in my ruined, ragged dress and shoes he was singing away and laughing at my predicament. Then, even though I was up to my thighs in freezing water, I began to smile. I started to relax, as much as I could given where I was. He was laughing. It was over. It was going to be alright!

I thought of being playful in return, pretending to be struggling in the water so he would have to come and rescue me in that beautiful suit, but after the last couple of days I thought better of it.

He sighed dramatically, skimming a couple of stones into the river. “Imagine that. Someone needs a crash course in the symphonic output of Sibelius, don’t they? And I’d be happy to give you one.”

Oh please. Please no more. Let me out please, Sir, and I’ll listen to Sibelius from morning till night for a week.

I actually loved this geek bravado but liked it a little less in my current predicament. ‘Current.’ Another word laden with irony.

“Number five has those seven chords at the end. It’s got quite the tingle factor, you know. I’m sure you would remember if you weren’t so chilly.”

I managed to turn a frustrated growl into a ‘mmmhmmm’, hoping he hadn’t noticed, and nodded in agreement. Anything to get out of the water.

‘For the love of God! Stop skimming stones and let me out of here! I do recall it now’ were the words I mercifully said only in my head. I was almost thankful for the gag. Goodness only knew what he would have done if I’d spoken aloud.

Finally he said it.

“Okay, come out now. Walk toward me. I mean it this time.”

With such gratitude and relief, I waded out of the bitterly cold water, back onto the bank. I would have run to him, straight into his arms, but water sloshed in my shoes and the damp weight of my dress slowed me down.

He reached into the back seat of the car and took out a blanket and a flask and then, as soon as I reached him, he wrapped the blanket around me, holding me tight and rubbing my arms to warm me up. I snuggled close, needing this so badly, not just for the warmth, but for being held safe and close to him at last.

He stepped back a little, smiling down at me, then took the gag off slowly, piece by piece.

“I’m rather tired of the sound of your voice so let’s not say anything when this comes off, okay?”

“Mmm-mmm,” I mumbled in agreement.

I wanted to ask if I could take off my dress and shoes. I knew I would warm up more quickly if I did but his order not to speak made it impossible.

He sat me down gently in the passenger seat, my wet skirt clinging round my legs, and poured me a cup of hot coffee. I was still shivering and he held the cup steady for me so that I could drink it. He combed his fingers gently though my hair, cupping my face and smiling, then climbed into the car and drove me home.

H
e closed and locked the front door behind us. Home. Such a small word with such a big meaning. I didn’t ever want to go through anything like that again.

I stood in the lounge, unsure what to do now, not knowing for certain whether it was completely over or whether there would be more. I wanted to ask, but he still hadn’t told me I could speak, so I held my silence and awaited his pleasure.

He turned from locking the door and smiled at me, slipping an arm around me and gently pushing me toward the bathroom.

“Go on and shower. Get yourself warmed up and changed, and then we’ll talk.”

I smiled back at him and nodded.

In the bathroom, I struggled out of the wet dress; the damp material clinging clammily to every curve of my body as I pulled it over my head.

I stood under the shower for a long time, letting the hot water warm me through and pummel away the last of the tension.

I dressed quickly and hurried to find Master. He was in the kitchen, pouring coffee for both of us.

He handed me a cup. “Okay, you can speak now. Let’s go sit down and talk.”

I opened my mouth to answer him but my stomach growled so loudly that even he could hear it.

“Sorry, Sir. I haven’t eaten since yesterday. Would you mind if I…”

“What do you mean you haven’t eaten since yesterday? Do I need to follow you around to remind you to eat now?”

“No, Sir. I just… last night and this morning… I couldn’t.”

“I see. I hope we’re not going to need to have the ‘who does this body belong to’ conversation again.” He tapped my breast bone lightly with his finger. “This is my property and you need to look after it. That includes eating properly.”

“Yes, Sir. Should… should we talk first. Or may I…?”

“No. Eat now, before you pass out. We’ll have lunch and talk afterwards.”

It felt wonderful to get back to something like a normal day after the last dreadful night. I made a quick lunch, humming to myself as I prepared everything.

We ate, listening to more music – not Sibelius, thankfully. And then he stood and held out his hand.

“Time for that chat, sweetheart.”

T
hey sat on the sofa, close together but not touching. She looked down at the floor, nervously, wondering what was coming.

“Now listen,” he said, gently. “You’re not in trouble any more. That bit’s done with. But I do need to understand. Tell me. Why did you look in my journal?”

It was a long moment before she spoke and, when she did, her voice was strained with barely held back tears.

“I was… I was thinking about the list. I was… I was thinking that there were so many things to do. And… and I didn’t want to let you down. And I thought I’d forgotten one, maybe more than one, and I… I didn’t want to… erm… I… I didn’t want to…”

Her voice cracked.

“What do you do if you’re in any doubt about an order, or a command? What do you do?” he asked.

“I ask you,” she whispered.

“So why didn’t you ask me?”

“B-because you were busy. And I didn’t want to interrupt. I thought… I’m sorry, Sir.”

“There’s no need to apologise. It’s done. I don’t want you to be sorry. I want to know the reason,” he pressed. “I don’t think you’re quite telling me the truth. I don’t think you’re doing it on purpose but I don’t think you’re quite telling me the truth.”

She wanted to protest. She never lied to him and she thought she was telling the truth. She cast about desperately for what else she could say. What else was there?

“I can’t believe you went to that journal innocently,” he continued, severely. “Imagining that you could get the order from there and then, most of all, not tell me.”

If it were possible for her to squirm herself into the floor she would have done it.

“I should have. I know. I should have told you. I tried but I… Oh, Sir, I’m so sorry. I… I…”

“Stop apologising.”

Another long pause. Again she tried to think what else. If there was more she wanted him to have it. She wanted him to have everything. The whole truth.

She started to speak again, feeling her way for herself as much as him, trying to remember.

“I was… I was… just too busy focusing on what I was doing. I didn’t think and I should have thought. I should have thought so much before I did it. I was… thinking about how many things I had to do and trying not to forget any of them, and I knew I had.”

She stopped for a second, remembering that awful moment when she’d realised she couldn’t remember the whole list. Again!

“I knew… I couldn’t remember everything and I didn’t know whether there was only one thing I’d forgotten or whether there were more… and I was… I panicked. After last week, when I forgot something and you punished me, I was scared and I panicked. I didn’t want to see the expression on your face when I…”

He interrupted her firmly.

“So you ask me. You send me a message or you call me. You never look in my journal.” He paused for a moment, letting that sink in. “Now look at me.”

She took a shaky breath, but managed to meet his eyes.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Tell me - promise me you will never look in that journal again.”

“I promise.”

“Promise that if you don’t understand something you’ll find some way to contact me.”

“I promise. I will.”

“And I know that you will never, ever do anything to hurt me like that again.”

Tears slid down her face. She could bear so much, but the knowledge that she had hurt him cut deep inside her.

“I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I never would have. I promise. I promise, Sir, I won’t ever do that again.”

He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close and rubbing her back.

“Shush now. No more tears. I know you’re sorry and I know you wouldn’t ever do it again. I had to test you because I knew you had done it. I saw you. Not only that, but you didn’t tell me about it. I tell you, that was the most hurtful thing.”

Another sob shook her and his arms tightened around her.

“Sir, I’m so...”

“No, please. You don’t need to keep apologising. Don’t cry, sweetheart. I know your intent was good and I know your heart is good. You wouldn’t be here if I felt anything less than that...”

He paused and took in a deep breath.

“Do you think I derive any pleasure from this? Do you think I get my kicks from seeing you upset like this?”

She shook her head, unable to speak for a moment.

“Of course I don’t. I’m not that man. It pained me to have to leave yesterday. I knew how much you would be suffering. I really didn’t want to leave you alone. I love you and I want to be with you.”

She managed a watery smile.

“I love you too, Master. I love you so much.”

He stroked her face gently. “I know you do.”

She looked down for a moment. “I couldn’t bear it when you left. Why… Erm… Would it not have been possible to punish me then, Sir?”

“I did cane you, but I’d at least calmed down enough to do that by then. You know I’d never punish you in anger. I never would. And I didn’t. When I came back this morning I was half minded to leave it, but you said you didn’t think you’d been punished enough, and I knew if I left it there you would carry on beating yourself up.”

He raised her chin and smiled into her eyes.

“Wouldn’t you? I know you too well.”

She gave him a small smile in return.

“I… yes, Sir. I would have.” She looked down again. “You… you sounded so angry today and I was so scared.”

“I wanted you to be. I knew that this wasn’t just an ordinary, minor transgression that we could deal with quickly and move on. This was a betrayal of trust; twice. And if you hadn’t admitted to it, we would have been over and that was something I very much didn’t want to happen.”

She closed her eyes, a cold shiver crossing her body as she imagined the depth of loss she would have experienced if that had happened. She tried to choke back another hiccupping sob but the thought of losing him made it impossible and she buried her face against his chest.

“Oh, Sir, I couldn’t bear it if I lost you.”

He cradled her close, rocking her in his arms and tenderly stroking her hair.