Chapter 11
At about four in the afternoon, Clarissa came home. Fielding guessed it had been authorised by Kearney, Anderson would never have agreed. She phoned Comben’s mobile and told him the news, then she knocked on Clarissa’s door. She had never seen anyone so relieved to see her before. Clarissa Downing was worried.
‘I was surprised when they sent me home without an escort,’ she said. ‘I had to get a taxi.’
‘This wasn’t John Anderson’s doing you know that don’t you?’
Clarissa didn’t know but she looked pleased when Fielding told her. ‘I’ll stay with you until Anderson can be reached,’ Fielding said. Clarissa was duly grateful.
They had tea together and Fielding spent the next hour or so fending off questions about John Anderson’s private life. Luckily, she hadn’t been working with him when he had been married, so she didn’t have to lie about that.
‘I’m hungry,’ Clarissa said at about six, ‘Chinese takeaway?’
‘My staple diet,’ Fielding said.
‘I expect Anderson cooks, don’t you?’ Clarissa asked.
‘The station gossip says he does it very well,’ said Fielding.
Clarissa paused with the receiver in her hand before dialling. ‘Has he cooked for you?’
‘Once or twice when I was his sergeant but it was all very proper,’ she said.
‘He doesn’t like mixing business with pleasure does he,’ Clarissa said.
Fielding wasn’t sure whether she was asking a question or trying to establish his innocence. She kept a straight face and hoped she looked ignorant of what was going on.
Clarissa never ordered the meal. Before she could dial, Mark Turney walked in. He wasn’t as surprised to see them as Fielding imagined he would be.
‘So my complaint worked,’ he said, ‘Anderson couldn’t keep you to himself any longer.’
‘What do you mean,’ said Clarissa.
‘I spoke to the Superintendent, he said he would do what he could to get you home and here you are.’
They both looked at Fielding and she felt that they must have a great deal to talk over. It was impossible for her to stay although she wanted to, so she sat outside in her car and waved back when they drove away later.
Back home, Clarissa felt frightened. John, she was sure, had a good reason to keep her safe in that flat and now she had been sent packing and there was no John around. She had no idea who had ordered it but it was a relief when Patricia Fielding arrived. They chatted a while and discovered that Fielding had been Anderson’s sergeant before Comben. She wondered whether the woman had been John’s lover as well but it didn’t seem so, although she wasn’t giving anything away. She learnt very little about John’s life that she didn’t know already. She couldn’t even find out whether Patricia knew about John and herself.
When Mark came home, she wanted to tell him to get out of her house. It simply wasn’t possible to ignore what had happened, now that there was John Anderson. What hadn’t changed was her marriage. Mark was having an affair that was certain but then she knew before as much about Mark’s infidelity as she had wanted to know. But now she felt differently: that had been the big change. But she couldn’t say anything with Fielding there.
When Fielding left, she had her chance but Mark seemed so pleased to see her and hugged her with such gentle enthusiasm that she couldn’t say it straight off. Then he took her out to eat and paid with his own money. They waved to Fielding, as she sat in her car, on the way out and the way back. Afterwards at home, Clarissa felt herself to be woozy and vulnerable and she couldn’t help thinking how very expert Mark was. There was no doubt that he was going to make love to her. Clearly, he wasn’t going to accept his dismissal easily.
She wondered how she would tell Anderson but then, of course, she wouldn’t and anyway it might never come to that.
Afterwards she had to admit she enjoyed her husband. This time she expected him to stay with her but yet again she was disappointed. After his shower and without one word, he went out.
Normally, as soon as she heard Mark’s key in the lock, she would be up and into his arms immediately he had shut the door, however late he had come. But now it was different. He had moved in while Clarissa was away and she had hoped it would be permanent, so Amanda sat squeezed into the corner of the settee and continued to watch the TV when he came into the room. He sat on the settee in the opposite corner but he was still near enough for her to smell his after-shave or body lotion or whatever it was. It meant he had freshly showered and that was unusual and suspicious. Clarissa had been sent home and she understood that he needed to see her but had that been all?
It unsettled her but she said nothing, although something bubbled up inside her and the effort of keeping it down made her face feel hot.
She knew he must know there was something wrong but he gave no indication that he was aware of it. He said nothing and watched as though he was trying not to disturb her. But she was not paying attention and was irritated by his pretence.
‘Why are you so late?’ she asked.
He turned to her and put his finger to his mouth. ‘I thought you were listening,’ he said.
She launched herself at him and would have slapped his face if he hadn’t caught her hand. Then he grasped her other wrist and twisted her round, so that her back was against his side. She cried out with the pain from her wrists and tears came to her eyes.
‘You’re hurting me,’ she said.
‘I know,’ he said.
Then using one arm to pin both her arms to her breasts, he lifted her with the other under her thighs and carried her into the bedroom. She tried to bite his hand but he moved his arm up under her chin so that she couldn’t do so. She soon found herself short of breath as the weight of her body pushed his arm into her neck.
He threw her on to the bed on her stomach and she lay there recovering as he fumbled with something she couldn’t see. Then he turned her over and rested his weight on her. She felt it useless to say anything. Then she saw what he had in his hands: the cords from their dressing gowns. They hadn’t done it before but they had talked about it and Amanda had said she wouldn’t like it but it didn’t seem to her as if he cared what she thought right then. He tied her wrists to the bedposts and then sat up. She was relieved, since her breathing was becoming difficult with him lying on her.
Up to then she had been frightened but, when he unbuttoned her blouse, removed her bra and caressed and sucked her nipples, she felt better. He was not after all an intruder who might rape and kill her. He had no need to rape and so no need to kill. He ran his fingers down her flank where he knew she was ticklish but her immobility and rising excitement meant it produced only a new increment of pleasure. She closed her eyes and imagined that he understood that she was signalling to him that her struggling was over and that he could do what he wanted with her. She had never surrendered to anyone like this before and there was still some residual fear.
But, despite this, she acquiesced as he manipulated her: he stripped her naked and then sat between her legs and pushed her knees up and, before she imagined she was ready, he thrust a finger inside of her. She gave a half-hearted shout as though he had hurt her but he hadn’t. He seemed to know before she did what she wanted and could stand. He thrust in and out of her with one finger and then another but left her clitoris alone, so she felt the pleasurable sensation of it without coming near a climax. Then he put a finger into her anus and she thought he must have used lubricant because it also slipped inside her easily. She had never before felt what she did then. His two fingers pressed against each other: one inside her vagina the other her rectum. She shivered and pulled desperately against the rope expecting any moment to feel pain but he kept her at a level of excitement that precluded pain and his fingers went deeper and deeper inside her.
Then he lay his head on her belly and licked her clitoris while keeping both his fingers active inside her. She soon climaxed as a wave of pleasurable sensation tinged with mild pain swept up and over her. She thought for a moment she would faint but, when he sat up and withdrew his fingers, she relaxed. Then he stripped and knelt over her breasts so that his penis was over her mouth. He bent it downwards and propped her head up with his hand so that she could take it into her mouth. She had done this before but only when she was above him. This time, with him over her, she felt him penetrate so far into her mouth and on to the back of her throat that she felt she might wretch or actually vomit. But, every time it seemed as if he might go too far, he withdrew. She sucked at him each time he went in and wondered whether he was going to come into her mouth.
But, before he came, he slid down her body, reached over to the drawer by the bed, took out a condom and put it on. Then he lifted her legs and placed his penis at the entrance to her anus. She was scared at what he might do and shook her head but he appeared to take no notice, although he made no attempt to force himself into her but stroked her anus with the tip of his penis. Then he placed her legs over his shoulder, cupped her clitoris, and moved the whole area around until she was close to a climax. Before she came, he pressed into her and slid into her rectum. She felt only the slightest discomfort and then as he went deeper a different sort of pleasure crept over her until she came again.
When he came out of her he changed his condom and then undid her shackles. She lay as passively as if she were still tied and allowed him to turn her over and position her so he could come into her vagina from behind. She was used to the position and accepted his uninhibited thrusting while pressing back into him. They both came close together but she had never heard him cry out with such delight and triumph as he did when he eventually came.
Afterwards she noticed the redness on her wrists caused by her own struggles. She had constantly pulled at her bonds while tied and now found her wrists raw from the chafing they had received. But, snuggled up to him against his chest with his arms enclosing her as she was, she did not mind.
A little later, she wondered what would have happened had she objected more strongly to begin with. Would he have stopped and untied her? He hadn’t waited for her consent but then she had been so passive that he could have been justified in believing she had tacitly given it. Had she been intimidated into accepting what he did, had he forced her? The problem was that she had enjoyed his power over her. She was sure that it was how he expressed his love and she had responded and would do so in the future. If this was all, it was okay. But was it? This was the first time, would there be more and different — worse?
They lay together for some minutes in silence. Amanda gripped him fiercely as though challenging him to break free. Then he surprised her.
‘I’m staying the night,’ he said.
‘What about Clarissa?’ she asked.
‘She doesn’t matter anymore.’
‘Why now?’ she asked.
‘I’m moving in with you whatever she says.’ he said.
They had never spoken about him leaving his wife. They had been together less than a year and Amanda felt it too soon to talk about it herself but she was pleased he had said something. ‘If that’s what you want,’ she said.
‘Do you want it too?’ he asked.
‘Yes,’ she said.
So it was decided. Whether Mark intended to divorce and then marry her, she didn’t know but marriage was too remote for her and too definite — all that could wait.
Amanda was pleased. She thought back to those Wednesday evenings and the way the old bag made up to Pete and Dave. It was disgusting but no more so than her attempted ownership of Mark. Still those Wednesdays were always a comfort to her: Clarissa’s hunger was some sort of indication that Mark was not lying when he said they were not fucking each other. Amanda didn’t believe she would have allowed that, if she had been convinced that they were.
She remembered how jealous she had been the time Mark had met his wife after the class. It was the night the two policemen had come. They had left as a group and, on the way out, she saw Mark in his car. She had almost walked across but stopped herself. Had anyone seen her hesitation? Then she had watched as he had got out of the car and kissed Clarissa on the cheek. Amanda had felt invisible and had turned away to walk quickly home. She had felt the same way that evening before he had come to her.
She wasn’t worried about money but she knew he was. She wished Clarissa was poor but she wasn’t. He wanted some of her millions and that meant he needed to keep her sweet. Just how was he doing that, Amanda wondered and then asked herself whether she wished to know? There was a gap. Anderson knew what that meant. It was going to be a sleepless night. He needed more data before he could close the gap. He might lie in bed trying to sleep but he wouldn’t be able to. He would still be trying to fill that gap however hopeless it was.
His bedroom was very dark. The curtains had special linings and there was a pelmet. On summer mornings it was necessary for him to have complete darkness to sleep until the alarm sounded. In the past, the ticking of his clock had kept him awake. Now he had succumbed to a quieter digital radio alarm but tonight even its quiet whirr reverberated in his ear, shattering the silence around him. He glanced over it was 00.15; the sight offended him. He had tried but without success to get a radio alarm clock with hands. But these were simply night thoughts. In the morning it would be better.