Ewan assures me he’s been in touch with his insurance company and I’m fully covered to drive his car. Even so, the high-end Nissan spends the day lording it in his driveway.
While he’s in Leeds availing himself of the technical wizardry which is my satnav, I keep myself occupied putting the finishing touches to my nursery signage project and exchanging final proofs with the client. The job is ready to go to print. Soon I’ll be able to issue my first invoice as an independent designer. It’s been a slow start, but steady enough. I’ve tendered for three more contracts and I’m feeling really optimistic and determined to make a go of this. There’s plenty of work out there for a decent designer, competitively priced.
I glance across at the clock. Nearly six. Ewan should be back soon. He said he’d cook, mentioned that thing he does with lamb and rosemary so I expect to be eating well this evening. I return my attention to the screen. Might as well carry on working until he gets home.
The sound of an unfamiliar engine disturbs me, the bite of tyres on gravel outside. I chuckle to myself as I realise it’s my car. I don’t usually hear it from here. I close downmy computer and head downstairs. All the while my ears are pricked for the sound of my front door opening. Ewan has a key, and having parked in my drive, it’s natural he’d come in here first.
I reach my hallway, but the door remains closed. There’s no sign of Ewan.
I open my door and glance outside. Sure enough, my modest little Fiat is parked in its usual spot. I lean out over the step and peer across the hedge in time to see Ewan disappear into his house.
Odd. He usually pops in to say hello even if he then has to go back to his to unload, catch up on emails or whatever. I have no shoes on otherwise I might follow him straight round to his to make sure everything’s alright. Instead I head for the kitchen and fill the kettle. I have no doubt he’ll be back soon.
Fifteen minutes later I reach for my phone to text him.
Did you have a good day? Shall I come round?
His response is swift.
No. I’ll come to yours. See you in 10
Ten minutes? He’s already been home for a quarter of an hour. Why does he need another ten minutes? I’m curious, but I top up the teapot with hot water and I wait.
Twelve minutes elapse before the sound of my front door opening and closing alerts me to his arrival. Not that I’m counting, but still, something seems off.
“In here.” I call out to him as I pour his tea. “Did you manage to find the place alright?”
Ewan comes into the room and takes a seat at the table opposite me. He has objects in his hand, which he tosses onto the table with a clatter. They lie there, incongruous, between my teapot and the half-full bottle of milk.
A pair of leather cuffs, and a spanking crop.
I gape at the items before me, then at Ewan. “What? What are these?”
He leans back in his chair, eyeing me in silence for several seconds. Then, “I think we both know what these are.” His tone is ominous, low and quiet, and endowed with a steely quality I find disconcerting.
I have a bad feeling, though why I should be alarmed has yet to be revealed. I don’t doubt though that it won’t be long. I play for time.
“Okay, I know what they are. What I meant was, what are they doing here? On my table?”
“We may need them. Later. First, we need to talk.” If anything, his tone is even cooler. I suppress my involuntary shudder.
“So talk.” I find I resent his clear intention of intimidating me. I tilt my chin in a reckless show of bravado I am far from feeling.
“Okay. I’ll start then. Thank you for the loan of your car. And your satnav.”
Right…“So, you found this place in Leeds then?”
“I did. And while I was putting the trip details into your satnav, the machine came up with a list of your recent journeys.” He pauses, his eyes narrowing. “Sheffield?”
Oh. Shit!
Somehow, in the deepest, darkest recesses of my mind I knew it had to be this. What other connection could I have to cuffs and a leather crop? What I couldn’t work out was how he knew. So simple. So fucking easy.Idiot!
Ewan says no more. He sits across from me, one eyebrow raised in expectation. He seems to be anticipating an explanation. I have none to offer.
Indeed, why should I have to explain? It’s obvious he knows what my destination was in Sheffield, but I had every right to go to a BDSM club if I chose to. It was before he and I started sleeping together. On reflection,maybe I need to make that clear at least.
“Ewan, I know how this could look. But you have to believe me, I haven’t been there in ages. It was before we, before you and I…”
