Master of the House (15 page)

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Authors: Justine Elyot

BOOK: Master of the House
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‘Who would
laugh
at someone’s distress?’

‘My parents,’ he said with a shrug. ‘You see, when you grow up with people like that, you think it must be in everyone. You don’t know what a natural reaction is any more. Hell, I copied them, thought it was the way to be, until I went to Eton and my housemaster was a bloody decent human being and I saw it was possible not to have to …’ He broke off again.

This time he was tearful. I put my arms around him and just held him, tight and close, while his chest rose and fell hectically against me.

‘I came to life there,’ he whispered. ‘I was allowed to be what I was – which was pretty much the polar opposite of Father. A boy who loved poetry and amateur dramatics and music. Father despised all that. He tried to force me into his mould but I just didn’t fit. “Is this my son?” was his catchphrase. I fell off my horse when I was four, and I cried, and he said I must have been swapped by the gypsies because I was no child of his.’

‘I never liked him,’ I admitted. I had only seen him from a distance, but he had always struck me as a frightening figure, given to unpredictable bouts of rage. I had thought Joss was the same. Worse even. It had never occurred to me that he was just copying the only available pattern. And passing on some of the pain in his miserable little soul.

‘Nobody
liked
him,’ said Joss savagely. ‘But everyone toadied round him and deferred to him.’

‘And your mother never stood up for you?’

‘She was lovely until I was four or five, then she just seemed to turn her back on me and side with Father. I never understood that. It was almost as if she died, in a way. I grieved for her, my whole childhood.’

‘Perhaps he abused her too.’

‘Perhaps, though I never saw any evidence of it. I confronted her, you know, at his funeral.’

‘God, did you? Oh, Joss.’

‘Yes. I wasn’t nasty or anything. I just said, as we made our goodbyes, that this would probably be the last we’d see of each other and I hoped she’d have a nice rest of her life.’

‘Bloody hell. What did she say?’

‘Oh, God. In my heart of hearts I’d been hoping she might break down, beg me not to leave her, admit she’d been a bad mother, apologise, even. But she just said, “I see,” and went back to talking to her sisters. I nearly lost it, right there and then in the drawing-room among all the guests. I wanted to kill her.’

He was shaking now. I held him through it.

‘I don’t blame you,’ I whispered. ‘It must have been so painful for you.’

‘I’m just exhausted with it,’ he whispered back. ‘Exhausted with having it in my life, all this anger, all this … ugh. I’m sorry. I’m making this all about me. I’m so self-indulgent, I’m sorry, Lu.’

‘Stop it. You’ve nothing to be sorry for.’

‘Oh, come on, I have.’

‘Well, never mind that now. Darling, will you do something for me? And for yourself?’

‘Anything.’

‘Will you see a professional about this? Get counselling? I wish I could do everything to help you through this, but I really feel you need some proper therapy. You can’t go on living with this enormous burden.’

‘See a shrink? God, I can just see Father’s face if he heard about that. “We don’t need bloody head doctors in this family.” Wanker.’

‘There, it would be sweet revenge. Take it.’

‘Darling, I can’t afford it.’

‘But I can. I’ll pay. And mum knows lots of great psychotherapists.’

‘Your mum? Will it involve primal screaming?’

I laughed, grateful for the momentary relief in this emotional landscape of huge forbidding icebergs and stormy seas.

‘No, I promise. She’s suffered from depression all her life – she knows all the best counsellors.’

‘Really? I’m sorry. I didn’t realise.’

‘No, she keeps going, any which way she can. But it’s been hard at times.’

‘For you, it must have been. Growing up, I mean.’

I shrugged.

‘I dunno, it was normal. And she always made it clear that I was loved and tried her best for me. I think I was luckier than you in that way.’

‘You were poor and loved. I was rich and … not. So when we met, perhaps it was fated.’ He needed tissues. I passed him the box from my side of the bed.

‘So what did happen, then?’ I asked him. The sixty-million-dollar question. ‘With us? Nine years ago? I went home after the most intense ten weeks of my life and never saw you again. You dropped me so completely it was as if I ceased to exist for you.’

‘I did love you, Lulu, I really did. But I wasn’t good at love, especially when fear hung over it like a shadow. When Father and Mother came home from their trip … well. I was scared. I couldn’t see you again.’

‘What did you think they’d do?’

‘I know it paints me in a bad light. A stupid scaredy-cat, letting his parents dictate his life, even as an adult. I was weak and unmanly, I know. But it hurt me like fire to let you go. I thought I was doing it for the best.’

‘The best?’

‘Father would never have it. He’d have disinherited me – he threatened it enough. I’d have been cut off, “without a shilling”, as they used to say. Looking back, I should have let him do his worst – I’d probably have found some way of making a living. But, back then, I didn’t think I’d be able to make it on my own in the world. I felt so hollow and inadequate as a person. Well, I still do, if I’m honest.’

‘It’s what you were told, over and over, but it’s not true. You’ll realise, once you’ve been in therapy for a while. You’ve been strong to make it this far without cracking.’

‘Well, the cracks are starting to show, don’t you think? Whisky for breakfast and all that.’

‘You can’t keep it all inside for ever, Joss. Nobody could. Doesn’t it feel like a weight off your shoulders, talking about it at last?’

‘I suppose it does, in a way. I’m still afraid you’ll get up and walk out on me.’

‘Never mind me. Whatever happens, I’ll always be your friend. I want you to be happy and to get past all this, so you can live.’

He laid his forehead against mine, his dark eyes shadowing my vision.

‘I don’t want you as a friend,’ he said. ‘It’s selfish of me, but I want much more than that.’

I didn’t know what to say.
So do I
was the natural response, but I wondered if I should be wary of committing myself before Joss had the chance to get professional help. I didn’t want to complicate things for him when he had so much emotional work to do already. But I did want to be there for him, more than anything.

‘I’m not going anywhere,’ I promised. ‘Let’s just let things take their course, shall we?’

He looked hurt, and I felt a bit annoyed for a moment until I remembered what he’d said about his mother at the funeral. Joss was used to giving his heart and having it rebuffed. He always hoped for more.

‘I do love you,’ I told him. ‘More than ever, now. But there’s no need to rush anything. All right?’ I kissed him, a brief but tender thing, on his lips.

He looked happier then and we lay in silence, both of us needing quiet time to think.

I thought about the heartbreak of losing him the last time, but now I could see it clearly. I could see Joss, also heartbroken, longing to call me but petrified of the consequences. To know that he had suffered just as I had, changed everything.

We slept for a while and woke up feeling sticky and heavy.

‘Are you hungry?’ I asked him.

‘Not really, but we should probably eat something. I bought a few bits and pieces at the little shop on the site.’

‘God, nobody uses that shop – it’s fearsomely expensive! Everyone goes to Tesco in Tylney.’ I laughed at his face; he looked as if I were speaking a foreign language.

Later, sitting at the little table eating bowls of pasta with everything-in-the-fridge sauce, we tried our hands at casual conversation. It was tricky. We only seemed capable of talking about big themes these days. My anecdotes about the hopeless old cooker in mum’s caravan sounded flat and dry.

‘Do you think Mr Millionaire is
in situ
yet?’ I asked. At the back of my mind, I’d had a plan to sneak off into the woods and spy, but I doubted Joss would approve.

He looked as if he’d just drunk from the bottle of vinegar on the table.

‘Don’t know, don’t care,’ he said tartly.

‘You don’t like to think of him in your home?’

‘Not much, no.’

‘The Hall is very important to you. Why is it so important?’

‘Because it’s mine. God knows I had to go through enough to keep hold of it. Including losing you, Lucy. So if someone else takes if off me, everything I went through was for nothing.’

‘It must feel like someone sleeping with your wife.’

He blinked.

‘Yes. That’s exactly it. That’s what it feels like. Like I’m being forced to share her. Cuckolded.’

‘And you’re ashamed. And it feeds into all your childhood feelings of inadequacy.’

He nodded, his eyes misty again.

‘I’m sorry, I don’t mean to upset you.’

‘Perhaps I need to be upset. This whole business – it’s made me look at my life. It’s a wake-up call.’

‘You mentioned you almost got married last year. Did you love her?’

I wasn’t sure I wanted to know, but I felt it was important that we both got everything out into the open now. I wanted to know that my feet were on steady ground with Joss, or I wouldn’t be able to continue with this.

‘No,’ he confessed, his face contorting with guilt. ‘No. She worked it out for herself in the end. I needed her money.’

‘Joss, that’s really shitty.’

‘I know. It’s what I came to. My lowest point. I didn’t love anyone, after you. Couldn’t bring myself to take the risk. I dated a succession of rich It girls and went to kinky parties for my real kicks. I never mixed the two.’

‘And the kinky parties – nobody there appealed to you?’

‘I didn’t know their names most of the time. They belonged to other men who enjoyed showing them off and sharing them. I never had one of my own. Didn’t have the time, money or talent for living a double life to keep a submissive.’

I thought about this.

‘Until now,’ I said.

‘Well, no. I still don’t have the time, money or talent …’

‘But you have a willing partner.’

He caught on. ‘You mean, you?’

‘I mean me.’ The words came out, even though I wasn’t sure I meant them truly. What, after all, would I be letting myself in for?

‘Are you talking about … something more … than our little arrangement?’

‘I think I might be. Based on what we’ve done, it’s something that really works for me. Not just sexually, even – it seems to fulfil some kind of emotional need. When you’re with me … doing those things to me … I feel something I’ve never felt before. I feel that I’m really at the heart of things. God, I need to think this through so I can explain it better. It’d make dreadful copy.’

I laughed at my own confusion, but Joss shook his head and put his hand over mine, fascinated by what I had said.

‘It’s an intense connection,’ he said. ‘By definition, almost. I have to give you all my attention, and you have to give me all yours. There’s no room for drifting off into daydreams or trying to remember what needs doing in the garden. We have to work together.’

‘So what would you say,’ I began hesitantly, ‘if I said I was willing to be your, well, your girlfriend? Your – I can’t bring myself to call myself a submissive – but doing all that kind of thing, basically.’

‘Lulu. Would you?’

He brought my hand to his lips, kissing my knuckles as I spoke.

‘We’ll be much more believable as a couple if we live it for real, when that time comes. Of course, I can’t live in a cage at your mercy – I have my work. But, I don’t know, we could see more of each other. Maybe even –’

‘Move in with me,’ he said quickly, pre-empting my contemplation of the possibility.

‘Do you think that might be too much? People would talk.’

‘What people? Nobody’s interested in me. Not now I’m no good for a donation to anything.’

‘It seems a big step to take.’

‘Bigger than letting me hit you with a riding crop?’

Well, when he put it that way …

‘Probably not. OK. Let’s give it a try. But, Joss.’

‘Yes?’ He looked so happy, a little boy unwrapping his dream birthday present.

‘I’m not promising anything. This might work, or it might not. I’ll stay until that Christmas party, but I’m not committing to anything after that.’

‘Fine, that’s … very sane of you. Oh, Lu. Does that shop sell champagne?’

‘Joss.’

‘Just one glass?’

‘No.’

‘Oh. Well. I don’t care anyway. You’re all the sparkle I need.’

We hugged each other tight, squeezing all the breath from between our bones.

‘Besides,’ I said softly, once I could fill my lungs again, ‘I have another idea for tonight.’

‘Back to bed?’ he said greedily, but I shook my head.

‘Do you know about the little gap in the wall, up at the top of the woods?’

‘Radley used to pester me about it before I had to let him go. Could never afford to sort it out. Why?’

‘I want to go and spy on your visitors.’

‘Lu, no.’ Joss’s head shake was vigorous and resolute. ‘If they see us …’

‘They won’t. I spied on you dozens of times. You never saw me. And that was in broad daylight. There’s a vantage point, thick in the trees.’

‘If you see
him
you’ll fuck off up to London with your scoop and I won’t see you for dust.’ Ah, here were the real grounds for his objection.

‘You think I’m using you, don’t you? Sweetening you up so I’ll get what I want before you’re ready. Jesus, Joss. Why did you ask me to move in if that’s what you think of me?’

‘Because I want you so much,’ he said, and the note of helpless bewilderment in his voice touched me. ‘I don’t even care if you kick me to the kerb once you’ve got what you want from me. If it means I get you for a few months, weeks, days …’

‘You get me for as long as I’m happy to be got,’ I assured him. ‘I’ve never stopped loving you. You’re the only man I’ve felt this way about. I want to spend time with you and I want to do every depraved thing you can think of with you, and I want to help you. I promise. I won’t desert you if I find out who he is.’

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