Her Master's Voice (15 page)

I was drunk, she thought. With just one drink, I was drunk. I must have fainted and they brought me here. Where is Tim? She lay back and examined herself. Her head felt heavy and her mouth was dry. She felt nauseous.

She forced herself to sit up and the silver chain cascaded onto the floor. She looked at the belt around her waist. A heavy leather belt, rich and moist with saddle soap and reinforced with the chain that held it closed. There was a small padlock at her hip, securing the chain that looped around her inside the belt. Disbelieving, she followed the chain down to the floor. It ended in a ring that had been threaded onto a thick wire that ran from the back of the room out through the door and into the sand.

Head still spinning, she looked around her. She was in a large room. The wide bed stood on one side, with the opposite wall taken up with a compact kitchen. There was a counter with a sink and a gas ring. Cupboards below and a small refrigerator. Pans hung on the wall and there was a rack of plates drying above the sink. Where was she? This was not like the cabin she had stayed in before. And why was she chained?

She stood up and felt her stomach rise. At the back of the room she saw an open door with a step down to a wet concrete floor. She rushed out into a simple toilet and shower room, and was violently sick. Cold and trembling, she rinsed her mouth and washed her face at the sink and returned to the room a little more in control of herself. At least whoever had captured her was reasonably humane. Her chain sliding along the thick wire would allow her to move around, even step outside. She went to the door and looked out.

Immediately, she knew this was not Pulau Kelapa. The beach was deserted. Only a small cove limited by black rocks. She stepped out onto the verandah. The cabin was built on stumps above the sand. To her left jungle came down to the sea. On the other side the beach graded into a rocky point. She went to the end of the verandah to look behind the cabin. It sat perched on a finger of land sticking out from the jungle. Coconut palms swayed over it and lent their shade.

She was alone in this strange place. There was no sign of other cabins. No people walking on the beach. No sound apart from the lazy ripples caressing the sand. In the distance, across the emptiness of the sea, the dark mainland hills watched her. Frantically, she looked around for help, for any sign of humanity. Then she noticed footprints on the sand. In front of the cabin the dry sand was a confusion of prints, old and new. Leading away, down the wet tide-washed sand, a single set of prints ran down to the sea. Sandals and a towel showed someone had gone swimming. She picked out a shadow in the water. A swimmer. She could see a snorkel sticking up at his head. The man dived, lifting his flippers up out of the water and disappearing. He was white and naked. It might be Tim.

A harsh snort came across the water to her as the man surfaced again and cleared his snorkel. She called to him. Tim lifted his head and saw her. He waved and swam back to shore. It was a relief to see him paddle out of the water and wrap the towel around his waist. He came to her carrying his flippers and still wearing his mask and snorkel in his hair. He had a wide smile on his face.

“Good morning, sleepyhead. What do you think of ParadiseIsland?”

“What’s happening? What’s this?” she lifted her chain to him. “Who put this on me?”

He looked at her with a half-smile. “I did.”

She felt furious and relieved together. “You frightened me. Now take it off.”

“No. I’m going to get a shower. Why don’t you make some breakfast? There’s bacon and eggs in the fridge.”

She could not believe him. “Tim, take it off right now. It’s not funny.”

“No. It’s not funny. So make the breakfast and we’ll talk about it.” He pushed past her towards the shower.

She ran after him and grabbed his arm. “I’m not making any damn breakfast until you get this thing off me.”

He seized her wrist and looking at her coldly, slowly tore her hand away. “Very well, I’ll make breakfast and then we’ll talk. First of all, I’m going to wash the salt off me.”

She sat on the bed, anger boiling inside her. She could hear the shower running and Tim humming to himself. The bastard! What was he thinking of? And where were her clothes? She looked for their bag but it was nowhere. The books she had brought with her lay on the bedside table, and she thought she remembered their shampoo and wash bags in the bathroom, but no clothes.

Tim came from the shower wearing shorts and drying his hair with the towel. She stared venom at him, but he ignored her and went to hang the towel over the verandah rail.

“Now then,” he said complacently, “two eggs for breakfast?”

“I’m not eating anything until you get this belt off,” she spat.

“Oh well, I’ll breakfast alone. Can I offer you a coffee?”

She threw herself at him but he held her off with one hand. “I can make this chain shorter, you know. Sit on the bed until I’ve made breakfast, and then we’ll talk.” He pushed her back. The bed caught her behind the knees and she sat. Tim turned to the kitchen counter.

He seemed in no hurry but at last his meal was ready and he carried it out to the verandah. “Good. Now you can come outside and we’ll talk.”

Her mood had gone from fury to despair. “Why are you doing this to me, Tim?”

“Come outside and we’ll talk.” He took her hand and drew her off the bed. “Come on, sit down and be civilised.” He sat her at the table. He had piled his plate high with eggs and bacon, and she saw he had brought two cups of coffee. He pushed one over to her and went back for a plate and cutlery for her. He wanted to share the eggs and bacon but she stopped him.

“No! I don’t want anything. Why are you doing this to me? Where are we, anyway?”

“Where are we? This is a little island that Alistair has lent us. Pretty, isn’t it? I could retire here. We must enjoy it while it’s ours.

“Now, business. I know what you’ve been doing. I know about Ranji and her lessons. I know you’ve been giving blowjobs to her friends. I know about the Irishman.”

She could not believe what she had just heard. “But—but—how  do you know?”

“Never mind that, but you know what really pisses me off? You’ve been pushing me away all the time. Talking about needing space, about being special friends, separate beds, no sex, the whole lot, and at the same time you’ve been sucking off half of Singapore. How am I meant to feel? You care more about Ranji and her friends than you’ve ever cared about me.”

“But, you don’t understand.”

“Of course I don’t understand. Do you?”

“But it’s not sex…”

“Not sex? Sucking cock is not sex? What is it then?”

“It’s about the yoga, the Goddess. Papi said… He wanted me to learn. To be better.”

“Oh yes? Better for who? Him? The Irishman? Certainly not for me, and I’m your husband.” He stood abruptly. “I’m going for a walk. Wash the dishes and we’ll talk later.”

She reached for him but did not dare to touch. “Please, Tim, please. Take this belt off me. Give me some clothes.”

He looked at her blankly, and turned to leave. He set off along the sand towards the jungle.

Her world reeled as she watched him walk away. She had been happy, and he had destroyed it. In the midst of beauty, she was in despair. She put her head in her hands and cried.

Chapter 15

She sat at the table on the verandah trying to read a book but watching the jungle fringe for him to come back. She had washed the dishes and tidied the room. She had showered and washed her hair. She had found a broom and swept up. Now she had nothing to do but wait, sweating uncomfortably under her heavy belt. The sun had passed over the cabin and she guessed it was early afternoon.

Suddenly, she heard a noise behind her, and Tim appeared around the other end of the cabin. He looked comfortable.

“Hi. Have a good morning?”

“Please, Tim, let me explain. And then I’ll go.”

“You’re not going anywhere until I let you. We’ve got the rest of the week here, so you’d better get used to it. Want to make some tea?”

“Please, Tim. You’re right. I know you are. I shouldn’t have  gone with those men. I’m sorry.” She started crying again. “Please let me go. Don’t hurt me.”

He patted her shoulder. “Relax, no one’s going to hurt you. Now make some tea.”

“Make it yourself!” she flared.

Tim seemed unfazed by her tears or temper. “Fine. You like one too?” She turned her back on him, tears falling.

The small gas ring took a long time to boil the water. Eventually he returned with one mug. He offered it to her. “You should take something…” but she shrugged him off.

He sat opposite with his feet on the verandah rail, looking out to sea. “Such a beautiful place. Unbelievable.”

“What are you going to do with me?” she asked quietly.

“Oh, nothing. Don’t worry. You’ll just have to do more or less as I want for the next few days, that’s all.”

“But this belt—it’s hurting me.”

“Really?” He leant over to look more closely. “You’re getting red. I guess you shouldn’t wear it all the time. I’ll get it off you.” He went into the cabin and she heard him rummaging in one of the cupboards.

He came back with another length of chain. “Now, give me your hand.” He wrapped a stiff canvas cuff around her wrist and pressed the Velcro tab closed. He threaded the end of the new chain through the loops of the cuff and padlocked it. She waited passively as he tried the cuff for tightness. He bent to fasten the free end of the chain to the wire with another lock. “There. Now let’s get that belt off you.” He unlocked her with a small silver key and pulled the chain free of the belt. It fell away from her. “Stand up!”

She stood as he examined the mark left on her skin. “No harm done,” he said. “Now wait a minute. Some cream will do you good.”

He brought sun cream from the bathroom. He sat and she stood between his knees while he rubbed the cream into her waist. As she turned, she had to lift the new chain over her head. His hands were strong and gentle on her and the cream felt good. He was caring for her.

“Better? You should wash that belt in fresh water and rub some saddle soap into it. There’s some in the bathroom. I’m sure you’ll need it again soon.”

“Why are you doing this to me, Tim?”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll figure that out eventually,” he smiled. “Now I’m going to take a siesta. Want to join me?” She turned away from him as he went inside to lie down. She tried to read her book but found it difficult to concentrate.

Tim woke when the sun was already settling in the sky. He came out onto the balcony. “Come on, let’s go for a walk.” He had brought her sandals and a sun hat. She thought about refusing but she needed to get off the verandah. “Stand up, you’ll need cream on your shoulders.” She stood still as he rubbed sun cream over her shoulders and back, over her bottom and down to her thighs. He turned her around and covered her front, arms, breasts, belly, efficiently and without suggestion. “I like you without hair,” he remarked as he did her thighs. “That was a really good idea.” She felt like a child.

He produced a dog collar with a long lead attached. “Lift your hair, let’s get this on you.”

She held her hair up as he put the collar around her neck and snapped a padlock through the closure behind her neck. He must have a stock of them, she thought. He put a Velcroed cuff around his own wrist and clipped the lead to it. She was tied to him. He unlocked her wrist and freed her from the chain. Not allowing her to do anything for herself, he knelt at her feet and fastened her sandals.

“Right, walkies!” he said with a smile and she found herself smiling back. “That’s better. A pretty smile makes the world go round.” They strolled the strand, watching the sun tip and fall toward the mainland. For the first time that day she felt relaxed with him. He was happy, talkative, caring. His arm rested lightly around her waist and the fact that she was naked apart from a hat, sandals and dog’s collar did not seem to matter any more. He took her sandals off and carried them while she paddled in the water and then sat with her up to their waists, watching the sun go down.

As the sun started to touch the far hills, he jumped up. “Whoa! We’ve got to hurry. I must light the lamps while there’s still enough light to find the matches. Come on!”

They hurried together back to the cabin. She hoped he might let her free, but the first thing he did was pick up her cuff and ask “Wrist or ankle?” She decided to try it on her ankle for a while.

She felt hungry and relented enough to prepare the rice while Tim struggled to get the charcoal in the barbecue alight. Ahmed had given him a fish to grill. The smell drove her appetite mad.

They ate on the verandah, protected by mosquito coils burning at their feet and with two Tilly lamps attracting every insect on the island. Tim had produced a bottle of gin and mixed it with fresh lime juice, water and ice from the limited supply their small gas-powered fridge could provide. They sat and watched the phosphorescent ripples on the beach, the black sea and pinpricks of light on the distant shore. A full moon shouldered its way out of the sea behind them, lighting the sand and darkening the rocky shadows.

They were both tired. Tim drained his mug. “Bed time. Are you going to join me?”

Sherry decided to make a stand. She would not be dragged into bed with chains. “No, I’m not getting into bed with you until you let me go.”

“It doesn’t work like that, love. Oh well, suit yourself. I’m going to get a shower.”

She washed up and went for her own shower. When she came back into the room, Tim had rigged the mosquito net around the bed and was already asleep in its shadows. She spread her towel on the floor, turned off the lamp and lay down.

The bright light from the open door woke her. She lay on the floor, her bones hurt, and the mosquitoes had bitten her. Sometime during the night Tim had put a pillow under her head and spread a sheet over her. The bed was empty and she crawled onto it.