Folly (25 page)

Well, it was on now, although one of the buckles seemed to be jammed. It was digging into the small of my back and I had a feeling I might need to use a box-cutter to free myself. Still, the device was indeed firmly, in fact immovably, in place.

Experimentally, I dry-humped the top of the gym horse, imagining myself gripping the Judge from behind, holding onto his small but well defined love handles. The only thing I could be sure of was that I was going to need a strong drink after this. I shuffled uncomfortably over to the desk and put on my trench coat. The pink penis jutted cheekily out through its front opening.

There was the Judge's Range Rover arriving now, thank heavens. I watched him climb out, greeting Goodness with a slap on the shoulder and the African handshake, before strutting over to the door of the folly.

‘How's it going, darling? How's it going? The traffic coming from Fourways is bloody diabolical this morning, I can tell you.'

I bent slightly to allow him to give me his customary peck on the cheek, while I breathed in a powerful wave of his expensive cologne. His eyes lit up as he noticed my new accessory.

‘We're going to have some fun today,' he assured me, offering a dirty grin.

‘Well, if you're ready, we can …'

But, at that moment, I was interrupted by the rattle of dry branches from outside the folly's front door and a loud cry of, ‘Coo-eee! Emma, are you there?'

The Judge and I stared at each other for a long, and in my case horrified, moment.

I was hoping I was hearing things, but then it came again.

‘Emma! It's Gillian.'

Crap. At the same moment a timid but rapid knocking on the door indicated that Goodness was doing his best to make me aware of the situation.

What on earth was my neighbour doing? What did she want?

‘I'm going to have to step outside for a moment,' I told the Judge. ‘When I come back, we'll get started.'

I turned towards the door, and at the same time that I felt the strap tighten between my legs, I heard the Judge's warning. ‘Uh-uh, darling. Step outside like that and you'll soon see ‘‘For Sale'' signs going up all around the neighbourhood.'

‘Tell her I'll be a minute,' I called to Goodness through the closed door. Hastily I shrugged off my coat. Hands behind my back, offering stammered apologies to the Judge for the delay, I began tugging ineffectually at the buckles.

‘Here, let me give you a hand,' he said. ‘Damn it. This little bugger really is stuck. Bend over the horse, sweetheart. I'm going to have to force it open.'

Great. Now here I was, legs splayed, prostrated over my own punishment horse in my basque and bikini panties, while directly behind me the Judge engaged in a tug of war so violent that, at one stage, he jammed his knee into my left buttock to obtain better purchase.

We were both panting when, eventually, I felt the strap loosen.

‘Off you go. And I'll put it on you again when you come back. It's a man's job, darling. A man's job.' Cackling, he gave me a hard swipe on my behind with the flat of his palm as I turned towards the door.

Wrapping my trench coat tightly around me and realising too late that I was still wearing my spurs, I left the folly. I closed the door behind me and gave a reassuring nod to Goodness, who was standing near the Judge's Range Rover and looking worried. Then I hurried over to the bushy undergrowth where, on the other side of the palisade, I could see Gillian was once again rattling a branch with her well-manicured fingers.

‘Morning,' I said, hoping she couldn't see me too clearly through the foliage.

‘Emma, I just wanted to say, firstly, how sorry Keith and I are about your husband's accident.'

‘No problem.' I glanced over my shoulder at the folly's closed door. Now she decides to come and tell me this? Now, while I have a paying customer left alone and unattended?

‘What
is
happening in that cottage?' Gillian asked curiously, a question that sent a thrill of fear through me. ‘You know, every time Keith and I drive past, it seems there's a different luxury car parked under that carport.'

I tried for a light laugh but it came out more like a nervous giggle.

‘I have no idea. There's a tenant living there and he works from home, I think.'

A strident silence followed my comment and I had time to kick myself inwardly at the idiocy of my statement, because Gillian was now doubtless assuming that my tenant was either a male gigolo or a dealer in expensive drugs.

‘Maybe you should ask him what he does,' she reprimanded me in chilly tones.

‘Oh, I will, I will,' I said. ‘Most definitely. And if it's anything he shouldn't be doing, I'll tell him to stop. But anyway. What can I help you with right now?'

‘It's about this problem area. Keith said I should ask you if we can send our gardener over to help cut back the shrubbery.'

‘Well, you could do,' I told her. ‘But it'd be a waste of time. I've decided I'm going to build a wall this winter.'

‘A wall?'

‘Yes.'

‘What kind of wall?'There was panic in Gillian's voice now and I knew she was envisioning a cheap, pre-cast, concrete monstrosity.

‘I'm still deciding. Face brick, probably. Possibly plastered.' There was panic in my voice, too. What would it take to make her go away, fast? How could I end this conversation? It was cutting into my client's hard penetration time, but at short notice I couldn't think of a good reason to rush off.

‘I think we need to discuss this wall, Emma,' Gillian said.

‘Absolutely,' I said. ‘But not now, if you don't mind. I've got … er … I've got the plumber inside at the moment, and he's waiting for me to show him where the problem is.' Plumbing wasn't too far removed from what I was about to do with the Judge. No wonder that word had been at the forefront of my mind.

‘Well, when can we speak about this?'

‘Give me a call a bit closer to the time – um, later next month. I'm sure we can come up with some ideas that will suit us both.'This was surreal. A minute ago I'd been wrestling to remove a stubborn strap-on sex toy, and now here I was, debating walls. ‘I have to go,' I told her.

As I spun round, ready to hurry back inside, my spurs interlocked and I almost toppled to the ground. Pinwheeling my arms, I managed to free my left foot in time to save myself with a giant, inelegant sideways stomp.

This was not turning into a good day. I didn't dare look round to see if Gillian was still watching. I could only pray that my hastily thought-out excuses had mollified her, rather than further inflaming her already considerable curiosity. One thing was for sure, the sooner I could get this wall built, the safer my clients and I would be.

Chapter 28

A
n hour later, the Judge had left, satisfied and replete, after helping me remove the strap-on and, in the process, giving me yet another stinging slap on my backside. I'd thrown away the empty poppers bottle and the condom that I'd put over the pink penis, and had soaked the device itself in a bleach solution. I had washed my hands four times in hot soapy water, and I had crossed myself in relief and gratitude that both my client and I had survived another session without either of us experiencing any cardiac events.

Picking up my phone and turning the ringtone back on, I saw that I had a missed call.

My jaw dropped as I saw it was from Simon.

What did he want? Oh, let this be an opportunity for us to see each other again, I prayed, dialling through to voicemail, my fingers fumbling in haste.

I waited, seething with impatience, for the message to play.

‘Emma? It's Simon here.'

Like he still felt the need to tell me who was calling. In case I still didn't recognise the voice of the man who, in recent weeks, had forced me to run a gamut of emotions from ecstasy to despair. At any rate, he now sounded a lot more like himself. Hopefully he'd vanquished his demons, and I pressed the phone to my ear, eager to hear what he had to say.

‘Are you free this evening? If so, would you like to go out to dinner? Sorry for the short notice. I thought I was going to have to fly to Dubai tonight but the trip's just been postponed. Anyway, chat to you soon, I hope.'

I felt lightheaded with happiness. I was going to see him. Tonight.

I called him back straight away.

‘I am free and yes, I'd like to join you for dinner,' I said.

‘Great! What time can I pick you up?'

‘Um – seven would be good,' I said, already starting to fret about what I should wear.

‘See you then.'He hesitated. ‘Where shall I pick you up from?'

It was quite obvious, since he knew the dungeon was on my premises, that my house was located at the end of the long sand driveway next to the folly's gate. He'd never driven up to it, though. From the folly, all you could see was its roof and one of the east-facing windows on the upper floor. And that was quite enough. I couldn't allow him to get closer.

‘Oh, from the dungeon will be fine,' I said. As opposed to having to park in the unpaved driveway and walk through the nonexistent garden to pick me up from my half-finished house. The dungeon it was, definitely.

We said our goodbyes and rang off, and I dashed upstairs, phone still in hand, and opened my cupboard, praying that a brandnew, sexy outfit might have suddenly materialised. It hadn't, of course, so I'd have to make a plan – I could wear the pair of black pants, and that scoop-necked black-and-silver top that would show off my cleavage if paired with one of my glamorous new bras.

I laid the clothes out on the bed and while I was sorting through the options, I suddenly realised something.

He'd said Emma.

When he'd phoned, Simon had called me Emma.

He'd never started a phone conversation using my real name until today. It had always been ‘Mistress'. Said with a smile, as if he was laughing at himself for sticking to that respectful term.

This time, ‘Emma'.

And as I puzzled over this, my phone rang. It was him. Again.

Christ, don't let the Dubai trip be back on, I prayed, snatching up the phone.

‘I had a thought. I'd really like to take you to one of my favourite Italian restaurants, which happens to be within walking distance of my place, so – do you want to stay over?'

Do I want to?

Do I ever! His offer was having the most ridiculous effect on me. I felt short of breath and my stomach was doing somersaults of nervousness and delight. Staying over … at his place … Dear God, what was happening to me? I hadn't felt this way since I'd been asked on a date for the first time at the age of sixteen or whenever the hell it had been.

‘That sounds great,' I said, and I could hear the delight in my own voice.

The call over, I turned my attention back to my wardrobe crisis, flinging clothes onto the bed in a frenzy of panicked excitement. What to take with me? I needed breakfast wear, something casual. A spangly black top just wouldn't fit the bill for the next morning.

Eventually I packed two different outfits, to cover all eventualities. With that done, I did some housework, went shopping, rushed back to the folly for an afternoon session with another of my regulars. And then it was six o'clock. I filled the cats' food bowls to the brim and made sure they had plenty of water, just in case – in case – we ended up doing something together the next day.

I jumped into the shower and gave my hair a quick wash. Dressing almost as fast, I put on my make-up and doused myself with the perfume he'd given me. And then I picked up my bag and locked the house behind me and walked through the darkening evening to the gate of the folly. Here, inside this little building, was where I would wait for him.

That was where mine and Simon's meeting point would have to start and end. The folly represented the place where truths stopped and lies began. Beyond it was the reality of the personal world I was afraid to show him.

And yet, now, he was picking me up from there to show me his.

‘Don't read too much into this,' I warned myself out loud, stepping inside and turning on the light. ‘He wants some company for dinner, bed and breakfast. Basically, he's getting a freebie, because he sounds as if he's back to his old self, so if you think there won't be any fantasy play involved, you're wrong.'

Nobody, in my opinion, deserved a freebie more than Simon. The problem was, of course, that I didn't want it to be just a freebie. I wanted it to be the beginning of something, but it could never be.

I frowned deeply.

Sitting in my unconventionally decorated cottage, forlorn thoughts suddenly at the forefront of my mind, I saw the Jaguar's headlights swing into view.

Swiftly, I snapped the lights off, grabbed the keys and buzzed the gate open. I picked up my bag and stepped outside and when he pulled up next to me I was ready and waiting. A smile in place, conversation on my lips, Bob the Cat rolling on the paving at my feet. My doubts and insecurities locked tightly up inside the folly, together with my lies.

Chapter 29

I
settled myself into the comfortable embrace of the Jaguar's nut-brown leather passenger seat, and Simon turned the car around and set off for Sandton. I observed that he drove well, unlike most Johannesburg men with fast cars, who seemed to swap their brains out for an extra shot of testosterone when they took the wheel. And of course, the luxury of the ride only added to the pleasure of the experience.

‘This really is a beautiful car,' I observed.

‘I bought it last year,' Simon said. ‘I've always been a Mercedes man, actually.'

‘I've always been a
BMW
woman myself,' I said, cleverly planting the seed in his mind that I drove a Beemer. After all, I had always aspired to owning one, so it wasn't too much of an untruth. ‘What made you switch makes?'