His House of Submission (16 page)

Love
. I was his love again.

When I took the brandy in to the office, he was talking to his lawyer again in a low, urgent voice. He put the phone down and necked down a substantial slug of his drink.

‘Is it going to be OK?' I asked, my voice coming out in a timid whisper.

‘I hope so,' he said. ‘My lawyer didn't ever tell anyone what he thought they had in their possession. So they don't know it's a sex tape. It's just an item of my property. They can guess, of course … but the main thing is, Ava's name wasn't mentioned. Only mine.'

‘Oh, that's great. So they don't really have a story and they'll probably just drop it?'

‘Well, I suppose they'll think there's no smoke without fire and dig around in the dirt for a while. But they can dig all they like. That tape will be burnt.'

I nodded and waited for whatever was coming next. A fond goodbye? A word of thanks? A curt dismissal?

No. What came next was completely unexpected. He blinked and I could see a dark cloud of suspicion crossing his face.

‘Wait a moment,' he said. ‘How did you get this?'

‘I went to Will's place and saw it in his living room.'

‘How do I know you didn't make a copy?'

‘
Me
?'

‘How do I know you and him weren't co-conspirators from the start? You planned this. You let him into the house. You were fucking him all along.'

‘Jesus, Jasper! No! You've got completely the wrong end of the stick!'

‘It all makes sense,' he said, almost to himself. ‘You found my stuff, you decided to make some money out of me. You gave him the tape. And now you're playing at saving the day, so I don't get my lawyers after you.'

‘This is paranoia! Please stop it, Jasper. I had to fight him for this tape. I only did it because I love you.'

I held out my arms, covered now in fingermark bruising from my struggle with Will.

‘Look!'

He looked, then turned his face away.

‘Rough sex,' he muttered.

‘No! Oh, God, he'd be loving this. This is what he wanted – to break us up and drive you mad.'

He had nothing to say to that.

‘You'll see when the papers come out tomorrow,' I persisted. ‘There'll be nothing. No scandal, no sex tape. Will said himself he wouldn't do that to Ava.'

‘What a gent,' sneered Jasper, but a dim light seemed to be dawning.

‘And I would never do anything to hurt you,' I said, more quietly, trying to turn every cell of my body into sincerity that would force its way from my words to his heart. ‘Because I love you.'

‘So you said.' He drained the rest of the brandy. ‘But love's a tricky bugger, isn't it? I've seen it faked too many times. Sometimes for the camera. Sometimes not.'

‘Oh, Jasper.' A flicker of real pain in his eyes made me move towards him.

He flinched.

‘Don't. I know the lines by heart. All of them.'

‘But they aren't always just lines. Somebody must have said they loved you and meant it. Surely.'

‘I thought they did, once. I was wrong. I don't want to talk about love. I don't want to go through the disappointment again.'

‘Somebody broke your heart.'

‘If you want to put it that way, trite and unoriginal as it is.'

‘Was it Ava?'

He slumped in his chair, then picked up the empty glass.

‘I need more of this,' he said. ‘Let's get out of here. In fact, let's build a bonfire and put this on top.'

He wrenched the tape from the camera and set off, glass in hand, towards the drawing room that held the brandy decanter.

Fortified with more firewater, we wandered outside, by the stables, and Jasper began building a pyre, composed of discarded brushwood and early fallen leaves.

‘You know,' he said, raking more twigs towards the pile, ‘perhaps I should add my whole collection to this. All those whips and cuffs and Victorian butt plugs.'

‘No.' I was aghast. ‘You don't mean that. Your collection is amazing. It would be criminal.'

He smiled, a tad grimly.

‘Or I could just sell it on,' he suggested.

‘But why? You've had so much pleasure from it.
We've
had so much pleasure from it.'

‘It's all too risky. It's made too much trouble for me now. I'll burn it, go back to France and make my film.'

He set light to the uneven pyramid of extraneous matter and threw the videotape carelessly on top.

‘
Ciao, bella
,' he said, but he turned away so I couldn't see his face.

‘You really loved her, didn't you?' I said.

‘Right, that stuff's for the tip. I'm going to throw it all on, piece by piece, cane by cane.'

‘You bloody well aren't!'

He started to walk towards the house but I darted in front of him, barring his way.

‘I won't let you,' I vowed. ‘It's vandalism. I can't bear to see beautiful things being destroyed. You can throw me on that fire if you like, but don't you dare ruin that fantastic collection.'

He reached out to push me aside but I swung my fist really, really hard and hit him in the ribs.

I hadn't expected it to hurt him. I'm no fighter. But he grabbed himself, winded, and couldn't speak for a moment or two.

‘I'm sorry,' I muttered. ‘Sorry. I didn't mean to actually hurt you. Oh, God, perhaps I should just go.'

He reached out for me at that and grabbed me by my bruised forearms, which was startlingly painful. But he hadn't intended to cause me pain, merely to pull me hard into his arms and cling on tight.

‘Don't go,' he said in a strangled kind of voice. ‘I'm a stupid twat. Don't leave me.'

I think he was crying, but I didn't look up. My cheek was crushed into his shoulder and his arms were like steel bands around me, the pressure threatening to pulp my ribcage.

When he let me go, I could feel my body rearranging itself into its former configurations.

‘I'm sorry, Sarah,' he said, holding up one of my wrists and inspecting my bruises. ‘Sorry I was paranoid earlier and sorry I'm so bad at this.'

‘Bad at what?'

‘Relationships.'

‘I don't think you are.' I paused. ‘Not
that
bad.'

He laughed.

‘Come to the fire,' he said.

We sat propped up against the stable door and watched the flames flicker and jump. Every now and then, he refilled the brandy glasses.

‘I did love her. You were right,' he said, once the last section of videotape had melted away. ‘But she wouldn't go public about our relationship. I didn't really get it. She said it was because she didn't want the press attention but it turned out it was because she was waiting for something better to come along.'

‘Something like a King?'

‘Exactly like a King.'

‘But it was twelve years ago,' I pointed out, as gently as I could. ‘And she was just one woman out of a whole world.'

‘I know. I know that in
here
.' He tapped the side of his head. ‘But I can't make the message get through somehow.'

‘You gave up on love?'

‘Yeah. I thought I'd just have a series of sex partners instead. Keep it light. Play at it without stepping over the line.'

‘It's about control,' I said.

‘You think?' He stuck his tongue out at me. Yeah, I know it was obvious, but it was worth saying.

‘Well, it is. You lost control when you fell for Ava. You don't want to lose it again. I can understand that. Loss of control is very frightening. When it isn't negotiated, that is. It's quite fun when you give it away.'

I quirked my lips at him.

‘See, I don't like this,' he said, shaking his head. ‘You know too much. And I might like you too much. It's not what I envisaged when I decided to seduce you.'

‘You thought, a few weeks of fun ordering me about and then I'd move on when the cataloguing job was done?'

‘A summer of submission,' he said. ‘I know I sound heartless.'

I put my hand on his arm.

‘I don't think you're heartless,' I said. ‘But you have to accept that other people have hearts too. And they sometimes give them to you.'

‘Keep them,' he said. ‘I don't know what to do with them.'

I looked up at the stars.

‘It'll be September soon.'

‘And you'll fly away with the harvest moon.'

He put his arm around me.

‘That's what you want, isn't it?' I whispered.

‘It was.'

I leaned into his shoulder.

‘What do you want now?'

‘I want you to stay here. I want to keep you here, locked up in my attic, where you can't escape me.'

My heart was skipping beats all over the place, like a smudged CD. But I had to keep my head.

‘I don't think that would go down very well at the South Coast Heritage Park.'

‘The where? Is that where you're going when you finish here?'

‘They've offered me a job, yes. In the Victorian House museum. It starts at the end of next month.'

He was silent for a moment, picking up my forearm and frowning at the bruises. He kissed each one, gently as a whisper.

‘Bloody real people,' he muttered. ‘Bloody real people with their real lives and real jobs and real feelings. Why can't you be one of my characters? Throw it all aside and give yourself to me?'

‘You don't really want me to.'

‘Yes, I do.'

‘Maybe one day. But not now. It's too soon. I don't know you well enough, and you obviously don't know me well enough, or you wouldn't have accused me of conspiring to ruin your life with Will.'

‘I'm sorry.' He looked away up to the stars, his brow knitted tight. ‘I'm good at fucking up my own life, aren't I?'

‘I didn't say I wanted to leave you. I don't want to leave you. I said I loved you and I do. I can't walk away now.'

‘But you're going to. You're going to walk all the way to the South Coast pretendy-history place when you could come to France with me and load my clapperboard.'

‘I'd love to load your clapperboard, Jasper, but it's not what I've always dreamed of.'

‘And fannying about in Victorian houses is? Yes. I know. You're an awkward little specimen, aren't you?'

‘Love doesn't have to be all or nothing, you know. You think that if I loved you I'd give up everything to be with you. But would you give up your directing career to be with me? Or would you try to find a way of doing both?'

He inhaled tetchily.

‘You're so fucking sane,' he said. ‘I can't argue with you. OK, Sarah. Whatever you want. However you want to play this. Just as long as I get to keep hold of you. That's what we'll do. All right?'

‘You can keep hold of me for as long as you want.'

‘Well, that's the best news I've had all day.' He bent to kiss my cheek and we watched the fire die.

‘Better than …?'

‘The best,' he repeated firmly.

He stood up and tried to pull me up after him, but his ribs obviously ached and he put a hand to them.

‘Christ, woman, you pack a serious punch.'

‘Sorry.'

‘You realise I'm going to have to punish you for that?'

I tensed my sore bottom. Not tonight, I hoped.

He chuckled at my dismay and patted my bum proprietorially.

‘I'll leave it a few days, I think,' he said. ‘Give you plenty of time for anticipation. And me plenty of time for creative thinking.'

‘Oh, God, I know all about your creative thinking.'

He opened the back door and ushered me into the house.

‘You don't know the half of it, darling.'

One week later, I stood in one corner of Jasper's bedroom with my nose in the spot where the two walls adjoined.

I'd been there a while, and my attention was starting to wander, my eyes sliding towards the window and looking out at the brightness beyond. It seemed strange to be standing here like this, with a bare bottom and a cane propped between my cheeks, when outside the oblivious birds were singing and a careless sun shone.

That cane was supposed to focus my mind and make me concentrate on what was to come. I was focused all right, but distracted too by the tight clutch of my corset and the way it pushed my breasts almost all the way up into my face. Despite my Victoriana fantasies, I don't think I'd have coped with wearing one of these on a daily basis.

I had been listening for footsteps so long that my ears had tired, but every little tap or clock chime from downstairs made me jump. When he had placed me here, he had not said how long I would have to wait. Perhaps it would be hours. All I knew was that I was not allowed to move and that eventually that little crook handle resting in my cleft was going to be picked up and used in a way I wasn't going to like. At the time.