Sonnet Seduction
- 3 years ago
- 24
- 0
Unsolicited Caller
Joe is at his desk when his mobile rings.
The screen announces an 02 number he does not recognise.
Joe sighs. He has had a rash of marketing calls recently of the “Hi, according to our records you were involved in a road traffic accident recently. Text YES to this number to discuss applying for compensation” variety. Ironically, Joe has suffered a major trauma in his life which has left him injured, and his wife even more so, but there is no compensation on offer for these all-too-real injuries. This will probably be yet another time waster — but equally it could be related to one of the projects he is involved with. He answers the call, anyway.
“Can I speak with Joseph McEwan?”
“Yes”, says Joe with more brightness in his voice than he feels.
“Oh hi, Joe. It’s Annie Elba...”
Joe’s heart sinks. The Police Psychologist, for goodness sake. Someone he could definitely do without speaking to just at the moment. He is definitely not in the mood to have to deal with Dr Elba. Joe makes a guess that she probably wants to ask if Jenny has said anything “funny” which might give a clue to what happened during her “absence.” Absence is what they call it. Abduction, Joe has decided, is what it was. Of all the people he has had to deal with, Joe now prefers to speak with Inspector Ackroyd. His flat, slow black-country voice is a very effective antidote to the dismay and fear which stalks Joe almost every day. Reluctantly, he tries to engage with whatever it is the woman actually wants.
“Have you a minute? I thought if I called about now I would catch you at the end of the morning but before you went for lunch. Is this an OK time?”
Joe smiles at the studied casualness of Dr Elba’s patter. He hardly knows her, but she still says “Hi Joe. Is this an OK time?” Nevertheless, Dr Elba’s choice of words is disarming and Joe begins warming to her, despite his feelings of the moment.
“Er, yes, I am pretty well done. How can I help?”
“That’s actually the wrong way round. It’s more ‘how can I help you’? Can I see you in person sometime soon?”
“To talk about Jenny?”
“No. To talk about you.”
“Me?” Joe begins to feel very much more anxious now. Have the police begun to wonder if he was in some way involved in Jenny’s abduction?
“Yes. You and Jenny have both suffered a really significant psychological trauma. I know Laura Malvern is looking after Jenny and it’s probably best if she does not also look after you. It avoids a conflict of interest and Jenny will want to know that what she says to Laura can’t accidentally leak out in any session Laura has with you. Anyway, I just thought you might find it helpful if we had some time together ourselves. What do you think?”
“Isn’t there another conflict of interest here as well? Jenny doesn’t really like you. I don’t want to feel I am some sort of informer — well obviously I don’t — so what about the things I might say to you? Where would they go?”
“I think if you have any information about Jenny’s time away, you should tell it to Brian Ackroyd. I was just thinking about you. Why don’t you think things over and let me know?”
Joe sighs. The feeling of fatigue begins to build inside him again, yet here was an offer of help...
“OK. Let’s meet. But where? I do not think the house would be good. I don’t really want to see you here at the office...”
“The house? The office? No way, but I could find some neutral ground in Coventry. Would that work?”
“Neutral ground sounds like a building site.”
“I was thinking about a redevelopment site. A friend of mine works at the Cathedral. I could borrow a room. It’s easy to get to. What do you think?”
Blitz and Reconstruction
On the night of 14 November 1940, the Luftwaffe razed Coventry almost completely to rubble, destroying 4,300 homes, two-thirds of the other buildings, and leaving the city centre in ruins. Amongst the buildings lost was the sublime Gothic Cathedral of St Michael. In the years after the war, the building was replaced by the flashy and confident architect Basil Spence, and the new cathedral has become something of a symbol of regeneration and reconciliation (1.) (2.).
Joe plays with these ideas in his mind as he approaches the building, the gaunt and blackened skeleton of the old cathedral standing in attendance to one side.
Joe feels no desire for “reconciliation” with Jenny’s abductors. He would like to feel that he was reconciled with his wife and there was no doubt at all concerning the need to see regeneration in their relationship. Perhaps, he thinks, Dr Elba has chosen a suitable venue for their meeting after all?
She is standing in front of the main door. She does not disappoint his first memory of her. She is wearing a black leather biker jacket with a bright blue scarf at the neck. She wears blue denim jeans which end far enough above her ankles to show a pair of bright blue-and-white striped socks disappearing into a pair of cherry red Doc Martens shoes, the red of the uppers set off by the yellow stitching joining the uppers to the dark brown soles.
Despite himself, Joe feels a thrill of sexual interest in her — and then feels a stab of guilt about wanting a woman who was not his wife and wanting that other woman here, of all places.
Dr Elba sees Joe, smiles broadly, and walks up to him, shaking his hand. Joe’s hand is cold and rough. Annie Elba’s hand is warm and soft.
“You need coffee — and cake,” she says. “Let’s eat before we talk. There is a branch of Starbucks over in Broadgate.”
The short walk through the city centre and the conviviality of Starbucks warms Joe both physically and emotionally. Now, sitting with Annie in a small quiet room in the Cathedral, he feels much more relaxed and ready to talk. This is probably one of the techniques used by psychologists, he thinks, to help their clients open up. He has to admit that the technique clearly works. He also wonders if this is one of the ways Jenny’s abductors wormed themselves into her mind and her affection? Did she ever sit with one of her abductors, drinking coffee?
Joe begins. “So, why the interest in me?”
“I am still attached to the case, as you might say. I am also a psychologist.
“You are a victim of crime — well, we are not exactly sure, but it’s a fair guess. Jenny is getting looked after by Laura Malvern, so I thought I should look after you.”
“I am paying for Jennifer’s care — and I am glad to pay, but how much are you going to be?”
“Ah, well, you are part of the investigation so I am being paid for by the ‘Met’.”
“So, is this an interrogation then?”
“No, it’s really not. I just wanted to see if you are OK and I thought it was part of my duty of care to touch base with you, to see how you are getting on, to talk a bit about how it’s been with you and Jenny, and to give you some advice on how you should deal with some of the things she might say or do. If it looks as if you are going to need more extensive counseling yourself, I will point you to someone here who could look after you, but not Laura Malvern, for reasons we both know.”
“Were you in Coventry anyway?”
“No, I came up specially to see you when you agreed to meet me.”
“Ah.”
“So, what’s it been like?”
“Odd.”
“Oh?”
“I don’t really know where to begin.”
“Mmmm?
“If I say things, do you have to report everything to Inspector Grantby?”
“If Jenny was planning to rob the Bank of England, I’m sure Chief Inspector Grantby would be interested to hear all about it, but surely we are not talking about that sort of thing, are we?”
“Jenny attacked — sexually attacked — her friend.”
Annie Elba visibly winces. “Oh, now that is serious. You had better tell me about that.”
“It was just before Jenny began to see Laura Malvern...”
“Before we go on, has she done anything similar since she has been seeing Laura?”
“No, not at all.”
“Does Laura know?”
“I am not exactly sure. Jenny and Laura meet on their own.”
“Oh ... well, Joseph, I did not expect to be in so deep, so soon. I think you should tell Laura — or I could, if you would prefer?”
“Can I tell you what happened, first?”
“Yes, please...”
“Jenny had gone back to work to see their Human Resources people and had a pretty unpleasant encounter with her Professor. You know Jenny’s friend, Cathy Corbin. had identified some academic work Jenny had done here before she disappeared, written up in a foreign journal after she went away?”
“Yes, I had heard that.”
“I think Professor Dawney accused Jenny of deliberately giving data away to the Professor’s foreign competitors. Anyway, Jenny went to see Cathy afterwards, to recover from the verbal attack she had suffered at the hands of the Prof, and Cathy asked too many questions. The result was that Jenny had a major flashback and tried to rape Cathy. Cathy told me that she thought Jenny was doing some of the things she must have been forced to do or was expected to do when she was away.”
“So how on earth did matters end?”
“Cathy managed to talk Jenny down. Told her to stop and she stopped. Like an automaton.”
“She has been all right since? She has not behaved like this to anyone else?”
“No. Jenny has not been back at work. She stays at home till I get back. She goes to see Laura Malvern — well, I take her.
“The only other thing was when she came to Birmingham with me. I had a meeting at Aston University and Jenny went to the shops. She got lost...”
“Anyone could get lost in Birmingham...”
“I know, but she called her abductors to ask for help, not me. I was so ... so ... well, I didn’t know what to think.”
“Mmm, I heard about that, too. Strange foreign women ringing you up and giving you orders...”
“Yes. Not very nice, really.”
“No. Not nice at all.”
Dr Elba looks carefully at Joe and says:
“Are you afraid of Jenny, now she has attacked her friend?”
“Afraid?”
“Yes. Afraid she might do the same to you?”
Joe sits back in his chair and takes a deep breath. It had not occurred to him to be afraid of his wife. Should he be? Although she was a woman she was now an Amazon of a woman. He had seen her at the Gym. He had seen her lift weights easily that he struggled to lift at all. When he thought about it, she could most likely overpower him in a fight, or in a rape...”
“Do you know”, says Joe, “I have spent two years longing to be back with Jenny that it never occurred to me that I should be afraid of her. Cathy – that’s the girl Jenny raped – said she did not think I was in any danger but just to get professional help for her, to keep Jenny calm and to keep her away from people she could not handle, like Professor Dawney. What you are asking me to think about is if I have I got back the girl I lost? That’s it, isn’t it?”
“Yes it is. Jenny will be deeply marked by her experiences. That will make her a different person. And you are different, too. In due course, you might need counseling as a couple if you find your relationship is becoming difficult.”
“Do you think I should be afraid of Jenny?”
“No, I don’t but I just wanted to know if you yourself had concerns and plant the idea that you have both changed, that you will never get back to exactly where you were before and for some couples it proves difficult to the point of impossible to go on in life together. You two might need other help. Do not be afraid to ask for it. Ask me or ask Laura Malvern and we will make the best arrangements we can but both of you would have to want help. You can’t have counseling for someone else or on someone else’s behalf. If you need relationship counseling, both of you have to want it.”
“Let’s change the subject,” Annie Elba continues, “So what’s it like at home?”
“It’s like being married to one of the Stepford Wives (3.). Jenny is obsessed with cleaning. All the tins and packets in the cupboards are aligned. The house is immaculate. You could eat your dinner off the kitchen floor. All our clothes and the sheets and towels are perfectly organized in the drawers. When Jenny and I go to the supermarket, she has me buy ... I suppose you would call it ‘athlete’s food.’ Salad. Vegetables. Fish. Lean meat...”
“So, no burgers?”
“Absolutely no burgers. No cake or sweet stuff, either. Porridge for breakfast. Only rye bread. Fruit — well, berries, but no sugary fruit like grapes — and we mostly drink black tea and water and hardly ever any wine and she always wants us to be in bed for half past nine in the evening.”
“Did she...”
“Buy this sort of stuff before? No. We bought ‘normal’ things. I mean, I suppose this is very good for me — for us — but it is very different to what we did before and now she will not vary from it. I just feel someone else has taken over our lives and is dictating how we live. Even down to how we clean our teeth.”
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The windows in my office at work in NYC face a modern-looking apartment building, where each room has a block of four large, rectangular windows in a row. The apartment directly opposite my office is a small studio. Around 6 months ago, a young blonde girl in her 20’s moved in. From my observations of her schedule and the Columbia University shirts I’ve seen her wear, I think she’s a grad student. She’s maybe 5’8”, pale, and has an athletic body with broad shoulders and long dirty blonde...
As she made her way from her bathroom into her bedroom she looked out at the view she had, mostly of various empty balconies. But there also was Guesseppe, the retired electrician across the street who was ending his day the same way he always did: a beer and a cigar. Guesseppe sheepishly averted his gaze when their eyes locked. Gabby bushed a little, but her eyes lingered. It was only expected that such a man would look away when caught ogling at the young broad in nothing but a towel. This...
Introduction: Rachelle has a secret lust for her neighbor Krysta. Rachelle woke up in the middle of a loud thunderstorm. Glancing at the clock, she saw that it was 4am. There was only one thing on her mind, and that was the port-hole window of her neighbors bathroom. Both of them were high school students, neighbors, and classmates. However, Krysta was the popular type and refused to have anything to do with Rachelle. The two of them had never even talked. Rachelle had a secret though, and it...
There's a house near me. Great big georgian thing, three floors. Always been a house that people look at, and tell themselves that one day they'll have one just like it.I used to know the girl who lived there, Catherine. After we left school, we lost touch, she moved away.I used to pass the house on my way to work, usually at around four in the morning. It was always dark, and spooky, but I would always think of my friend as I passed.I like music, and listen to my ipod as often as I can. One...
Friday April 8th 7:15pm I sat on the semi-comfortable padded bench typical of Tucson International Airport as I watched the sunset out of gate A9's massive window. I was trying to pass the time before my flight with any distraction my bored brain could create. I fumbled with the wires protruding from my walkman, I tried to make sense out of the annoyingly unsymmetrical southwest style pattern on the rug, but mostly I tried to people watch without being too overt about it. For some reason...
Creeping down the stairs, Rachelle counted her steps. The third stair from the bottom she knew to creak, and her parents door was open. Carefully stepping over the bad stair, Rachelle made her way to the window of the living room, slid it open, and climbed through. The torrential rain stung her face, but her mind was set. She made her way across the wet, dark neighborhood in just her nightgown with no shoes on to reach her goal: Krysta's house. That popular bitch had been ignoring...
This is a true story........I had to meet clients downtown for an evening event and for meetings the next day. I brought my girlfriend with me for the evening dinner. Because of the meetings the next day, I booked a hotel room to stay down in the city overnight. She decided to stay with me since it would be a late night and we would be drinking, then she would go to work in the morning from the city hotel.The evening was enjoyable. Dinner was fun and we had a good time with my clients. On...
A true story (written in third person)Kate was luck enough to have a dressing room. This is located upstairs and the small room overlooks the path that's passes to the front of their house. It is a well used room and this morning was a normal weekend morning, with Kate to be found showered and prancing around slowly getting herself ready. This is often done with only a towel around her waist....she likes the freedom and it always gives Kyle a sexy view.Kate was just finishing straightening her...
Looking through the windowVictor and I had taken one week on vacation for spring break. We had shared a wonderful time with our eternal company, Cecilia and Peter and now during the last day we were getting ready for a back home trip.After lunch our friends decided to go downstairs to the pool. Victor joined them, but I had a light headache and told them I would stay at our room, would have a shower and a relaxing quiet siesta.Back in our room I took a quick shower. I toweled myself dry while...
Copyright© 2001-2003 A sweetheart named Teresa Arden Went down on her beau in the garden. He said, "Good lord, Tess, Don't swallow that mess!" And she replied, "Ulp, beg your pardon?" "Turn your light off and get some sleep young man!" Gregory's mother had her head stuck in her son's bedroom doorway, and though she spoke harshly, she had a familiar gentle smile on her lips. It was the warm familiar 'game' she played as a 'mom'. "OK mom." Gregory put down his book and...
I used to live in a first floor apartment that bordered on the parking lot of a small Mexican restaurant. A lot of people used it as a party area, as it was fairly well shielded from the road and not very brightly lit. One August night I woke to the sound of Dave Mathiews, playing at near concert-volume outside my window. I like the music, but at four AM on a work night all it did was piss me off. I peeled the bedsheet off of my body and, without my glasses, made my way to the kitchen window to...
My name is Rick and I'm nineteen. I'm in college, but it's not all it's cracked up to be. It's not like Animal House or Old School. There's no real partying or anything even remotely like that. Anyway, I couldn't justify trying to pay for a place of my own at a boring place like that. So, I still live with my parents, and there is one other nice thing about living at my parents' house. Next door there's a beautiful woman that looked to be in her mid twenties. Her name was Gloria. A redhead. She...
NovelsNote: This is just a simple little tale of first time experience... it is somewhat an autobiographical tale... enjoy! -one- "Jeez, Andrew, that's my teacher's window!" One of the players howled. When the long fly ball went through the neighbor lady's kitchen window, two entire baseball teams full of Andrew Wilson's friends and peers disappeared. Now certain that the world as he knew it would end in a manner of moments, Andrew was stuck with the ball bat and the consequences of his own actions....
As a frequent business traveler and nudist, I commonly disrobe as soon as the hotel door closes behind me and only get dressed again when it is time to leave. After a typically long day of presentations, training, and meetings I can't wait to lose the coat, tie, and everything else that goes with it to experience that wonderful feeling of freedom.I normally pour myself a glass of bourbon (neat) and take a shower before laying a towel onto a chair and relaxing for the evening. Lush Stories...
ExhibitionismLaying in my bed, with my air conditioner turned down to a rate that would have my husband bitching a storm when he got the next bill, I snuggled under my covers. The sky outside was dark even though it was close to eleven am. What was I doing in bed still at that time? Well, being a writer, I write when inspiration hits. Which means if I dream something up at one am, I'm up until it's out of me. But last night had not been about inspiration. No, it was frustration that had me up to all...
It was a beautiful spring morning. I had just woken up and taken a shower before making myself a pot of coffee. I was wearing my most comfortable light blue exercise pants with the white stripes down each side, and a white camisole. I had just settled down with my coffee and the morning paper when I heard a knock at the door. On my way to answer it, I was trying to think of who could be coming to see me at 10:00 in the morning. I opened the door, and there he stood; a blond haired, brown eyed...
EroticGeorge Whitman was grateful for the window in his bedroom that looked out into a small green space between the rows of buildings. If he looked upwards, over the buildings on the other side, he could see in the distance the very top of the British Museum. Down below there was a small patch of mossy grass fringed with ferns, then tall shrubs and an old, blackened brick wall. It wasn’t clear to which building the little plot belonged, but someone must cut the grass from time to time. Most of all...