Taming the Beast (17 page)

When they were one street away from her flat, he pulled into the deserted netball court car park. ‘Okay, listen.’ He turned off the engine and faced her in the dark. ‘I am incredibly disturbed by what you’ve told me tonight.’

‘Clearly.’ Sarah lit up a smoke.

‘Must you smoke in my car?’

‘If you don’t like it you can take me home. In fact,’ Sarah opened the window, pegged the cigarette out onto the asphalt, closed the window again and turned to face him, ‘you can take me home anyway. I’ve had enough.’

‘Tell me what I’m supposed to feel, Sarah. I’ve spent all these years believing you meant it when you told me I was the only man you’d ever love. I ignored the fact that you were an attention starved child who always said and did whatever it was you thought would please me, whether you meant it or not. I ignored the fact that you were too naïve to possibly understand what it means to love someone, and I–’

‘Stop it!’ Sarah slammed her fists against the dashboard. ‘This is bullshit. I meant every word I ever said to you. I
loved
you, Daniel. I loved you so fucking much.’

‘If you loved me you wouldn’t have run straight into the arms of that boy.’

‘I can’t believe I’m hearing this from you.’ Sarah turned to look at him, tucking her legs up under her body. ‘You remember you used to tease me about how horny I was, and I hated that word and would get all demure and say “oh, no, I just missed you,” or whatever.’ She saw the smile flicker across his face and it gave her the courage to reach out and touch his arm. ‘I worried that there was something wrong with me. That normal girls didn’t get so wet their lovers laughed to touch them. I worried that you found me sluttish or disgusting, because I was always so hungry for you, for
sex. But when I asked you whether it was wrong of me, you quoted John Wilmot at me and–’

‘
For did you love your pleasure less, you were no match for me
.’

‘Yes. And those words were such a gift to me. To know that my desire was not something monstrous, that anyone who thought I shouldn’t want so much and so often, was not worthy of me.’

‘I didn’t realise at the time that your desire was non-specific. I assumed that the voracious appetite I so admired was for me only.’

Sarah pressed her lips together. She tasted sweat and became aware that her whole face was damp with it. When she’d left her flat earlier she had shivered in response to the cool night air and cursed herself for wearing such a skimpy summer dress in late April. But now the heat was suffocating. Anger and confusion always made her hot.

‘Daniel, please don’t misunderstand me. The first time you touched me, you turned me on. I mean that literally. I was barely aware I had a body and then, boom, my body was screaming, dripping and aching and twitching all the time. And you made it okay. You showed me what to do with all that heat and need and how fucking incredible I could feel.’ His arm shook beneath her hand. She squeezed it hard. ‘Problem was, you left without turning me off.’

‘God, Sarah,’ he said, his voice shaking with his arm, ‘I didn’t know. I didn’t realise you would… this isn’t what I expected from you. I never would’ve gone if… God, this isn’t how I expected you to be.’

Sarah felt the automatic shift and made sure it was pushed into park, then she released the handbrake and climbed up on her knees beside him. The world was all wet. Her cheap polyester dress was sticking to her back and breasts, and the sweat dripped down her legs and pooled behind her knees. Her hair stuck to the back of her
neck and forehead and ears and cheeks. Her face was wet and so were her lips. Acutely, she was aware of the wetness between her legs being thicker and hotter. It mixed with the dampness of her sweating thighs and the perspiration dripping from her belly.

Then she was feeling how wet his throat was and his wet, wet mouth was under hers, opening and pulling her in. Mr Carr’s mouth. Mr Carr’s lips. His tongue and his teeth, sharp and mean and wet, wet, wet. She tasted blood and her body surged with recognition. He was the only man who kissed so it hurt.

Sarah remembered the first time he bit her, when she was fourteen and in his car and he had made her turn over so he could take her from behind. She had found it strange to not be able to see his face while he was inside her, and strange also, the very different sensation she got from the new angle, strange and good. Soon she was gasping and pushing back and up into him and as he came, he bit her shoulder, hard.

‘I only want you.’ Sarah groped for his fly. ‘Always, I wanted you. I wish I’d never–’

Daniel bit her cheek. ‘Get in the back,’ he said, but didn’t wait for her to obey. He lifted her by the hips and half-pushed, half-threw her over the centre console and onto the back seat. He pushed her on to her stomach and pulled her dress up to her hips. Sarah reached behind her back to touch him, but he grabbed her wrists and held them together. Then he told her she was impossible and sunk his teeth deep into the flesh of her right thigh. Sarah cried out, in pain and in desire. Daniel bit her again and again and again until both thighs were soaked in sweat and saliva and spotted with blood. He didn’t remove her underwear, didn’t let her turn over, didn’t allow her to kiss him or touch him. He bit her over and over and over until she was crying so hard she thought she’d choke on her own snot.

And then abruptly, he stopped, climbed into the front and drove her home. She asked – she
begged –
him to come in with her. When he said no she cried some more and asked if she could come to his place instead. Or couldn’t they stay out? Couldn’t they please–?

‘I need to be alone, Sarah. This night has not gone well. Not at all how I planned.’

‘Daniel, please,
please
, don’t leave me like this. I’m so confused, and I–’

Daniel got out of the car, walked around to her side, opened the door, took her arm and pulled her out. Sarah clung to him, trying to kiss him but succeeding only in slobbering over his unmoving chin. He pushed her away, hard enough that she stumbled backward four or five steps. By the time she had regained her balance he was sliding into his seat.

Then he drove away leaving Sarah shaking and bleeding in the middle of the road. Exactly how he’d left her all those years ago.

Jamie knew he had to tread carefully with Sarah. Two days ago she had all but said she loved him, and he had been so elated that he pushed too far, and she freaked out and took it back. He had to remember that Sarah had never made a commitment, that she was terrified of losing her hard-won independence, and that better men than he had failed to win her. Jamie had waited for her for so many years and now that she was almost his, it was vital for him to bite down on his joy and let her take the lead.

He decided to leave her alone for a couple of days so she wouldn’t think he was getting clingy. The wisdom of his laid back approach was confirmed when she called him at work on the second day and begged him to come over.
I’m sorry we fought
, she said,
I really need you right now
. He managed to wipe the smile off his face for long enough to convince his boss that he had a monstrous headache and had to go home.

As soon as Sarah opened the door, he knew there was something very wrong with her. He knew this because her face was red, and Sarah’s face was never red. She said it was just that it was such a hot day.

‘It’s not hot, Sarah.’ Jamie felt her forehead. She was burning up. ‘You must be getting sick. Do you feel sick?’

‘I feel fine. Why haven’t you kissed me yet?’

Kissing her, Jamie felt hot too. He took off his shirt and then hers. Her stomach and back were as hot as her forehead. ‘Why aren’t you at uni? You are sick, aren’t you?’ he asked, but the only answer he received was her tongue in his ear. Moving into the bedroom, he unbuttoned his jeans, took off her bra, kicked his pants
off while he kissed her breasts, lay with her on the bed and pulled on the waistband of her tracksuit pants.

‘Wait.’ She sat up. ‘Turn the light off.’

‘What? Why?’ It was difficult for him to get into the state of mind necessary to be able to perform with Sarah. He had to first forget that he was more than likely the worst lover she’d ever had, and second, he had to forget he had a wife and daughter. He could only manage this advanced state of denial by becoming fully absorbed in how she felt and how she smelt and how she looked. By concentrating on Sarah’s physical presence, he got so aroused that not even fear of failure or heavy-duty guilt could stop him. And here he was, hard as a rock and ready to roll, and she had broken into his suspension of disbelief.

‘I’d just feel more comfortable with the light off,’ she said.

She sounded like Shelley. That was not good. He couldn’t do this if he was thinking about Shelley. He had to keep things moving or the guilt would overtake him and they’d never get anywhere. Jamie walked the two steps to the light switch, telling himself that he would get back into the mood easily once they were in bed. Besides, there would still be light enough to see her because the window over the bed allowed the sunlight to come in. But as he switched off the light, Sarah pulled the blinds closed. The room was so dark he could barely make out the shape of her on the bed.

‘Why can’t I look at you?’ He groped blindly and found hips still covered in fleecy fabric.

‘Sssh. Finish undressing me,’ Sarah said, pulling him to her.

Jamie had been worried about nothing. Even blind, there was no mistaking who he was making love to. Sarah was unique in every way, but especially in the way she made him feel. Out in the world Jamie always felt inadequate. He was too small, too thin,
too anxious, too passive. He felt terrified that someone would catch on to the fact that he was too weak and hesitant to be a husband and father; at any given moment he was sure he would slip up and expose himself as a fake. But when he was making love to Sarah he felt that everything was as it should be.
Jamie
was as he should be. Nothing was awkward or uncomfortable or frightening. It was Sarah and Jamie, and it was easy and perfect and right.

‘Sar?’ he said afterwards, when she was lying with her head on his chest. ‘You’d tell me if something was wrong wouldn’t you?’

‘Mmm.’

‘Is that a yes?’

Sarah mumbled something into his chest.

‘I can’t understand you.’

She sighed, lifting her head up enough to plant a kiss on his chin. ‘Can’t a girl have a few minutes of peace to enjoy the afterglow of her mind-blowing orgasm?’

Jamie knew she was avoiding something, but he couldn’t stop smiling anyway. Shelley didn’t even have orgasms from intercourse and here was Sarah having mind-blowing ones. He gave her the requested few minutes of silence and then tried again. ‘Did you end up staying at the pub till stumps?’

‘No, I left not long after you.’

‘I hope you didn’t walk home alone.’

‘Don’t stress, Mum.’ She touched his face with her fingers, tracing his cheekbone and the ridge of his nose. ‘I got a lift.’

‘With a bloke?’

‘Yes.’

‘Was it Mike? Because you said you weren’t going to see him anymore.’

Cold air rushed over him as she sat up. ‘Don’t start, please.’

Jamie sat up and faced her although it was so dark he could not really see her face. ‘I’m not starting anything, Sarah. I’m just trying to talk to you and you’re being all secretive.’

‘I can’t do this with you, Jamie, I really can’t. Just leave if you’re going to be an arsehole.’

Jamie had the sudden realisation that they were fighting. He hadn’t seen it coming, but here he was smack bang in the middle of a fight with Sarah. He reached for her arm. ‘You’ve always told me everything, and now you’re holding back. I feel like I’m losing you.’

Sarah pulled her arm away. ‘I didn’t realise you’d won me.’

‘You know what I mean.’

‘No, I don’t.’

Jamie felt sick to the stomach at the coldness in her voice. He was undoubtedly losing her, but everything he said was making the situation worse. He had to pull way, way back before she withdrew from him all together.

‘Forget it, Sarah. I’m sorry. Let’s go get something to eat, heh?’

‘That would be good,’ she said, in a marginally warmer tone.

Crisis over, Jamie stood up and turned the light on. He began to get dressed, thinking only of how painful it had been to have her angry with him, and how he would have to be much more careful about what he said in the future.

‘Will we go to the pub or–’ Jamie looked up from buttoning his shirt and caught sight of Sarah. If he had looked up a second later her tracksuit pants would have been pulled up, but as it was she was bent at the waist with her arse in the air and her pants around her calves. Jamie stared. From the backs of her knees to where the curve of her buttocks met her thighs, her skin was purple. Sarah stared at the floor for a second then slowly straightened up, turning so her back was to the wall. Although he could no longer see the backs of her thighs, he couldn’t look away from the space they had just occupied.

‘Stop staring.’ Sarah pulled up her pants, bent over again and retrieved her bra, then her T-shirt.

Jamie couldn’t look away from where those battered bits of flesh had been. No wonder she’d been feverish and distracted. But why didn’t she tell him? How could she keep something like this from him? It was horrific to think of her lying beneath him, pretending to be having a good time, when the whole experience must have been agonising for her.

‘What happened?’ he managed to ask when she was sitting on the edge of the bed pulling on her socks.

‘Nothing for you to worry about.’

Nothing for him to… had she really just said it was nothing for him to worry about? He asked her to repeat what she’d said. And yes, that was what it was:
It’s nothing you need to worry about
.

He started to cry. ‘You being raped and beaten is something I don’t need to worry about?’

‘Oh, Jesus!’ Sarah stood and wrapped her arms around his chest. ‘Oh, no,’ she said, pulling him down on to the bed. ‘Oh, no, Jamie. I can’t believe you’d think that. I wasn’t… it was nothing like that. Oh, God. I’m sorry to scare you, I didn’t want you to…’ she kissed his cheek. ‘This is why I didn’t want you to see. You always think the worst.’