Buying The Virgin Part 1-3

Michael rants on. “… As a kid, she was abused, beaten, locked in the dark. At fourteen she was assaulted and threatened with everything from gang-rape to torture. In escaping, she believes she has committed murder. She has a loveless, failed marriage. God knows you ought to sympathise with that. She has exactly one friend, a teacher, who shows her way out. He later dies on her, but to follow the dream he started, she quite literally sells herself to a man… let’s face it, to a pair of men… who take her down a track that must have felt very familiar to her, and yet, in which she still managed to deliver with very good grace….”

There is a break in his words. Is he panting? Then he starts again. “… And when, finally, she has the chance to start it all over, her slate wiped clean, the man she loves most in the world, the man she has fallen deeply in love with…. and it’s not me by the way, don’t think I don’t know it…. sulks at her, for not having mentioned all this in casual conversation.”

Michael is incandescent… “Fucking well get your act together, James! She’s missing you. She’s unhappy. Hell! I’m missing you…”

“And you think I don’t miss her, being close to her?” My Master’s voice is quiet.

“You still love her? Yes?”

“You know I do.”

“You and me both. How long do you think she’ll hang around if you keep this up? Cutting her dead? And if she does stay, how do you think she’ll behave in the future, if this is your response to something she really couldn’t help?”

“Couldn’t help? She had plenty of chances to speak.”

“When? Exactly? All those weekends when we’d meet up for a day or two and fuck like mink, because, really, we barely knew each other? Or was it earlier in the summer, when she got the shit beaten out of her, by you, while I sat and watched, and she ran? Or over the last couple of weeks when she’s been working hard, and concentrating on making a good impression with Haswell?”

There is a break in the shouting, but the sound of pacing feet.

“What was that about a teacher?”

“The teacher? So, you don’t know about him? Have you considered just listening to her, instead of your own voice all the time?”

“Alright, alright. What’s this about a teacher? And no, I don’t know about him.”

“When she was at the farm, she had a school teacher. He was obviously an inspirational figure for her, perhaps even something of a father figure, from the way she was talking. He showed her the value of an education; how to escape…. She started all this because of him; the drive to get to university, to raise the money to do it…. You and I only ever met her in the first place, because of him. And when she went back at Christmas to see him, he’d died. Her one friend. Remember, at that point, you and I were just a couple of guys who’d fucked her. How alone is it possible to be? I think you could make a bit of allowance for her taking time to get to know us. Wasn’t that the whole point of us doing this summer holiday thing? To get to know each other, rather than just screwing all the time? To see if it is actually possible to make something like this work?”

I choke on my drink, spluttering.

Oh God, that’s why they took the whole summer for it….

There is a pause, silence, then footsteps, coming towards me.

down at me. “And how long have you been

er…. I got back from my walk…. I was coming in, but you were

flushed. He nods, holding out a

furious. Where is my calm and placid,

apologetically at me. “I’m sorry Charlotte. I

The sound

the eye. “Charlotte, I’m… I’m sorry. Michael has given

raises his hands to the skies. “Oh, for pity’s sake…” And he brings his fist down on the table

“Sorry, that wasn’t aimed at you,” he says.

“I know.”

arms around me, rocking me

did this all become so complicated?” I

best friend, then I fell in love with you, then he fell

missed out the

“Did I?”

think I don’t

not in love with

for you. The two of you are different people. Very

he rests his head on mine. “Charlotte, once, just once in all

looking him in the eye. “Alright.

smile self-mocking. “Fair enough. Okay, straight question. Do you love me? Are you in love with me? As well as

time, choosing my words. He looks down, arms folded. “I think,” I say, “that the straightest answer I can give to that, is that the ‘sub’ in me, is in love with him, but the woman

continues to stare at the floor and my nerve

straight enough

“Yes.”

it good enough

up, smiling, eyes warm. “Yes, it’s good

*****