Gilliflowers (25 page)

He gave a gentle smile, “and you’re telling me all this because?”

“Because I’m going out for a long walk. I’ll clear up when I get back.”

“You can go for a walk after dinner. I’ll come with you. We’ll have a nice stroll by the river and scandalise the ducks and swans by holding hands.”

“I’m not hungry. I need some space on my own to think about things.”

“There’s nothing for you to think about, honey, so if everything’s ready I suggest you go have your shower and change into something nice. I’ll choose something for you if you like.”

“I don’t need a shower. I had a wash earlier.”

“You’ll have a shower, you need to douche properly. Your hair looks greasy too.

It needs a wash, go and get on with it.”

“Why are you being so fucking tight arsed about everything tonight?”

“Do as you’re told.” Folding the paper he’d been reading he dropped it onto the coffee table before standing up and facing me. “Shane will be home soon. He’ll expect to find you ready to serve dinner, preferably with a smile on your face instead of the dirty look you’re modelling.”

“I wish I hadn’t bothered asking you now. I should have taken the matter straight to a higher court. I might have got a fairer trial.”

“You had a fair trial,” he said coldly, “and a milder outcome than you deserve.

Shane would have given the same judgement. In addition he would have sentenced you to a good spanking for being wilful enough to ask the question in the first place.”

He wagged a finger in my direction, “and that’s exactly why you didn’t approach him, isn’t it? Because you knew how he’d react. You thought I’d be a softer touch and indeed I am where you’re concerned. I let you get away with far too much, but I’m warning you, my pretty pet, push me on this issue and I will discipline you. The terms are clear and non negotiable, no alcohol, regardless of what social events come along.

I don’t want to have to repeat myself.” He walked across to me putting his hands on my shoulders. “You asked, I said no, that’s an end to it, understood?”

I managed a stiff nod.

“Good.” Turning me towards the door he gave my bottom a powerful smack.

“Now go and get ready for dinner before I decide to use a strap to preach a lesson on submissive etiquette to your rebellious backside.”

The stinging slap along with the sound of a car pulling onto the drive motivated me into mounting the stairs without further ado. I found I was trembling as I undressed. I’d expected Dick to be sympathetic, to make allowances, not threaten to strap me. The threat had been a cold one, devoid of any intention to create and heighten sexual tension. For the first time I believed he really would give me a strapping.

Shane entered the bedroom as I emerged from the bathroom. He didn’t say anything, but I knew from the set of his face that Dick had told him about our conversation. I got a kiss of greeting, but no smile. The kiss was a mark of authority without warmth. He told me to dry my hair and get dressed and downstairs, pronto.

When dinner was over I cleared up and served coffee in the lounge. I then announced my intention of going down to the summerhouse to read.

Shane snapped his fingers indicating a portion of the floor at his feet. “Park your brat’s arse down there and keep your lip buttoned. Speak only if spoken to.”

I didn’t dare argue or complain. I did as told and parked my bottom where indicated, sitting cross-legged at his feet. The action confirmed Dick had indeed informed him of our earlier conversation. This was his way of approving and reinforcing his second in command’s stance.

Shane divided his attention between the TV set and his laptop while Dick scribbled away in one of his sketchpads. They exchanged snatches of talk with each other while ignoring me.

It was a relief to be sent up to bed at a quarter to ten. At Shane’s instruction I slept in the single room with the hope a good night’s rest would encourage me to view life from a sunnier aspect. It didn’t. I felt aggrieved when I got between the sheets and I was still aggrieved when I slipped out of them next morning. I couldn’t help it, or at least that’s how it felt. I went about my usual business trying not to present signs of my inner dissatisfaction. I’ve never been good at concealing my feelings. They slip out and reveal themselves in a variety of ways, by a look, a sigh, the way I hold my body and so on and so forth. Shane refers to it as sly stratagem, a way of trying to manipulate a situation. It wasn’t long before he called me on it.

“You’re out of sorts this morning,” he picked up the cup I’d just refilled with coffee and eyed me over its rim. “Are you still sulking about yesterday?”

I clunked the coffee pot onto the table. “Why is it that whenever I’m upset about something you and Dick say I’m sulking? It’s annoying. I’m not sulking, okay. I’m upset.”

“You have no legitimate grievance to be upset about, therefore you’re sulking.”

“Not being able to have a drink at my best friend’s engagement party is a legitimate grievance.”

“No it isn’t. Your friend getting engaged is irrelevant to the issue between us.

You’re under penalty for good reasons and it’s a nonnegotiable penalty. There is no temporary get out of jail for a party card. You’re sulking. Dick and I are sick of it.”

I said nothing, turning my attentions to righteously cleaning down the cooker. I wasn’t much in the mood for breakfast. The antibiotics were beginning to niggle my stomach and I didn’t feel like eating.

I saw Shane to the door when he left for work, dutifully tilting my head to receive his usual goodbye kiss. He looked good in his dark grey suit, white shirt and navy silk tie. I had one of those clarity moments. It told me how lucky I was to have a share in such a handsome and powerful man. I impulsively reached my arms around his neck to claim another cologne spiced kiss. He obliged and then patted my backside saying something that took the star shine right out of my eyes. “You be nice to Dick when he gets up, my bonny lad, or I’ll use my belt to colour your bottom black and blue when I get home.”

I scowled, annoyed with him for shattering my affectionate clarity moment.

“You’re a mean bastard, Shane.”

“You’d be well advised to hold that thought.” He picked up his laptop case and left. I waited until his car had exited the drive and then shut the door adjusting my shorts to better accommodate the trouser pup. It had gotten excited and was trying to nose its way out of them. I sternly addressed it. “Down, boy, show some dignity.

He’s a fucking big brute so don’t fawn over him.”

Clearing the table in the breakfast nook I then re-set it for Dick. I got the teapot ready, chucking in teabags. Dick prefers tea to coffee most mornings and so do I.

Shane is the hardened coffee drinker in our house. I keep telling him it isn’t good for him, but he simply places a finger on my lips and tells me to stop my nagging.

I had every intention of heeding alpha Daddy’s words about being nice to beta Daddy, and not just because of the brutal threat to belt my bum, but because I wanted to be nice to him. I love him to bits. I’d take a bullet for him, for both of them. Only, as soon as I heard him begin to move around upstairs, something shifted in my perspective. I could almost hear the gears grinding in my mind.

By the time he entered the kitchen I was angry all over again and full of seething unrest. IEM was in charge of the ship and steering it towards the rocks. In retrospect (I wish I had money shares in evil retrospect. I’d be a billionaire) I think I was so shaken by his hard-line attitude that I felt a need to test and challenge it to see how real it was and how much depth it had. It’s usually Shane’s authority I feel compelled to challenge in such a way and again in retrospect I probably still was challenging it.

Asking Dick the question I should have addressed first to Shane, or at least to both of them at the same time had forced Dick to assume the mantle of ultimate authority and act on its behalf.

“Morning, gorgeous.” He walked into the kitchen wearing pyjama bottoms and a warm smile. “How did you sleep?”

“With my eyes shut,” I snapped.

“Oh, Gilli.” His smile disappeared and he gave me a sad soft-eyed look. “Still brooding I see.”

I refused to be swayed by sad looks and a sympathetic voice. “Is brooding the same as sulking, because if so I’ve already had this conversation with Shane. I’m not sulking. I’m not brooding. For your information, Dick, I’ve got an upset stomach, so you’ll have to excuse me if I don’t crack jokes and perform card tricks for your delectation while you breakfast. You’ll have to dock my wages for failure to provide light entertainment and then post my photo on the official houseboy wall of shame site. I’ll be pilloried by my own kind and forced to appear on the Jeremy Kyle show to be publicly degraded. They’ll do DNA tests to ascertain which one of you is my real Daddy.”

“You’re a disagreeable little bastard, Gilli, and a bloody cheeky one.” He sat down at the table. “I ought to tan your backside for that mouthful of sauce. What’s upsetting your stomach besides spleen and sour grapes?”

“The antibiotics I’m taking for my sinuses, antibiotics always upset my stomach. I thought you might at least remember that much.”

“I’m sorry,” he helped himself to a bowl of honeynut cornflakes and drenched them in cold milk. “Make sure you drink plenty of water, it might help neutralise the acids.”

“Yeah, whatever.” I deliberately spoke the refrain Shane would hammer me for.

Dick didn’t say anything, but all softness left his eyes and he gave me a look that made my stomach tighten. I silently poured his tea and got on with toasting a couple of slices of his favourite organic wholemeal bread, which I then set in front of him.

He buttered a slice and then reached for the marmalade. “How about I treat you to lunch today?” He slathered his toast with the preserve. “Get the train down for one-thirty and I’ll meet you at the station. We’ll go somewhere nice.”

It was an offer I would normally have jumped at. I rarely get to lunch with either of the men folk during the working week. The cranky gears in charge of my actions creaked and I shook my head. “I’m too busy, and anyway you don’t have to compensate me.”

“I wasn’t trying to compensate you, because I have nothing to compensate you for.” He dropped the slice of unfinished toast onto his plate. Wiping his mouth on a napkin he stood up. “I was trying to cheer you up, because believe it or not I don’t enjoy seeing you miserable, even when the misery is self-inflicted. If you prefer misery to lunch that’s fine by me. I’m going to shave and get ready for work.”

He went off upstairs. I sat for a while over a cup of cooling tea feeling horribly conflicted. Part of wished I’d accepted his lunch invitation and part of me wished I’d been much ruder when declining it. I wanted to aggravate him because he’d aggravated me by refusing to come onside, petty perhaps and possibly childish, but who gives a fuck.

Forcing myself to get on with the day I began to gather up the breakfast pots taking them over to the sink to wash. I was finishing off when I heard Dick come back downstairs. He came into the kitchen.

“I’m off now, Gil. Have a good day. I’ll see you this evening.”

“You won’t actually.” The words that spilled from my mouth were as much a surprise to me as they were to Dick. I felt like a ventriloquist’s dummy. Tilting my chin at a defiant angle I heard whoever was operating me continue, “as of this morning I’m putting in some time off. I don’t take anywhere near the holidays I’m entitled to as an employee. I’m going away for the weekend to visit a friend. Terry emailed and invited me down to Brighton. He’s rented an apartment there for a week.”

The bit about my friend Tez renting an apartment in Brighton was true, but the rest was fabricated. He was holidaying with his boyfriend and inviting me to gooseberry along was the last thing on his agenda. They’d been going through a rocky patch and the holiday was a fix it kind of thing.

Dick gave me a long cool look before asking, “does Shane know about this sudden yen you have for travel?”

“I’ll leave him a note on the fridge, or text him one. I’ll use simple English so he can understand it without having to ask his secretary for help.”

“You’re being extremely naughty. In fact you’re being a royal pain in the arse.”

Whoever was operating me had a cruel sense of humour because they pulled the lever that opened my gob and made me snarl for the second time that morning,
“yeah,
whatever.”

Dick’s face darkened and took on a rare look of anger. He often gets cross with me, but it takes a lot to make him really angry, such as the wine incident at Penny’s house and again now.

He stabbed a finger at me. “I’m sick of this pathetic tantrum over alcohol and that’s all this is, a tantrum because you feel thwarted. For fuck’s sake, man, get over it. Show some grace. Like it or not it’s staying in place.”

“Six months, Dick! SIX FUCKING MONTHS! It’s unbelievable. There are criminals who get less of a sentence than that for mugging old ladies and they get parole, which is more than I do. Just one evening is all I’m asking for. You can always tag it onto the end of the punishment period, make it six months and a day.”

“I’ve told you the answer is no.” Folding his arms he looked at me for a few moments before speaking. “I made a bad mistake when I allowed you to harass me into giving a time scale for review. It seems to have encouraged you to believe if it can be lifted in six months then it can be lifted at any time. I’m closing the review window. I’ll decide when it gets opened again, be it six months, eight months, twelve months, whatever.”

My heart pounded with angry frustration. “Only Shane can make such a decision.”

“No.” Dick shook his head. “You forced me to adopt the position of principal authority in this matter when you slyly tried to play me off against him. If and when I make any decisions regarding you being allowed to drink again, I’ll let you know.

Until then it’s a taboo subject.” He tapped a finger to his lips. “Taboo subject, Gillibran, it means no discussion. I’m going to work now. I’ll see you this evening.