Last week, Louina (ie Sherrie of pre-train wreck days) met her surgeon, and he was planning her new look. How very exciting. Wish I had before and after shots for you. No such luck.
This week, my 14-year-old, incredibly inexperienced self, dabbles in yet another sex scene. I tell you, I'm so glad I'm not reading ahead with this book, because I doubt I'd have ever decided to publish it! I just hope my mother isn't reading this!
In fact, I'm quite sure she never read it when I was 14 either. At least, I don't think she did. Must ask her about that...
For those of you who are new followers, The Dance of Revenge (if you haven't already guessed) was a book I wrote at age 14. I think I wrote it mostly to entertain my friends. I remember handing it around in English class (how appropriate) and the girls reading it. Of course, looking at my writing/spelling/grammar - I probably should have spent more time paying attention in English class. (Just saying.)
Enjoy this week. If you have missed any chapters to date, just scroll down the RHS of my homepage, find the pink ballet slippers, and they're all there for your reading pleasure.
THE DANCE OF REVENGE
ADAM Brair stood in the doorway of the attic, looking over the space in front of him. He thought about what he could do with it. A pool table, some lounges and a bar fridge in the corner would be perfect. He could have an ice-crusher and make great drinks with it. [‘Great’ drinks. I like it.] He imagined having his pals over to shoot some pool and sit around drinking beer and smoking cigars. It could be his space now.
But Elizabeth wouldn’t let him. She was still waiting for her precious daughter to come home.
God damn little bitch, he thought.
Adam counted himself lucky. Turns out there was one survivor from the train wreck that had forgotten who she was. He had made sure that Elizabeth hadn’t seen any news about it, and had spoken to the authorities for her, telling them that she was too upset and delicate to speak to anyone. Which was sort of true, anyway. Now he just hoped no more bodies would be found and that the little bitch wouldn’t remember who she was.
Adam thought about the day in the attic when he’d almost had her for himself. Because she did ballet, she had a body like a dancer. [Ya think?] Long and lean. He thought about her breast, and about his tongue on it. He started to feel the excitement building in his body. He thought of her thighs and what it probably would have felt like to be inside her.
Now he was hard. [Nice. LOVE the subtlety in the writing.] He and Elizabeth hadn’t made love since the train accident, and he was sick of it. He had needs, and Elizabeth was his wife. She owed him, and enough was enough.
He went back downstairs to find her. He knew where she would be. Where she always was these days. In bed, sleeping. Sleeping so she wouldn’t have to think about her daughter laying dead in the bottom of the river.
He reached the bedroom door, and there she was. Asleep again. He moved over to the bed and took off all his clothes. Then he lifted back the sheet and looked at her. She was wearing an old t-shirt and underwear. She never wore the sexy nightgowns he had bought her anymore. He was finding it hard to feel bad for her anymore, and the sexy waitress at the bar he stopped by most days was looking better and better to him. [Key word in this paragraph: sexy.]
He thought about Sherrie’s breasts again, and it made him want Elizabeth.
He climbed in to bed with her and kissed her on the neck. “Honey,” he said sexily, [MORE ‘sexy’] “Wake up. I need you.”
Elizabeth stirred. She turned towards him and gave him a half smile. I’m in luck, he thought. He bent down and kissed her lips. She kissed him back hungrily. Finally, he thought to himself, his desire finally growing for her again.
Adam was just climbing on top of Elizabeth when all of a sudden, she suddenly pushed him away. [Did you get it was ‘sudden’, people?] “Stop!” she yelled. “Get off me!”
He was taken aback. “WHAT?” he yelled at her. “God damn it, Elizabeth. What’s going on? I thought…”
“I was asleep, Adam. I didn’t realise what was happening. I’m not ready! I can’t do this. Not when Sherrie is…” her voice trailed off and she started to cry.
Adam rolled his eyes. This was too much.
“You have to snap out of this, Liz. It’s been ages now, and laying around crying isn’t going to help anything.”
Her eyes glared at him. “How dare you?” she said, shaking with anger now.
“How dare I? How dare I? I am your husband, Elizabeth. Your husband. You owe me this.”
She was about to yell at him again, when all of a sudden, he grabbed her by the shoulders and pushed her back down on the bed. He sat on top her and pinned her arms back with his own. “You are going to have sex with me, Liz. Right now.” She struggled, crying more loudly now.
“NO! Adam, stop. I don’t want to. I can’t.” He wasn’t listening. He had played the supportive husband for too long. Still holding her arms down, he forced his body on top of hers and moved so he could be inside her.
Elizabeth cried, and kept yelling for him to stop, but he didn’t. He couldn’t now. He pushed himself inside her over and over until finally, he was done. Then he rolled off her and collapsed next to her on the bed.
Elizabeth turned away from him. He could hear her crying softly. He thought of trying to comfort her, but he knew she was angry. [No kidding.] Too bad, he thought to himself. Now he knew why Sherrie had been such a bitch. She got it from her mother.
He closed his eyes. All he wanted to do now is sleep. “Will you shut up?” he said to Elizabeth without turning around. He didn’t want to see her face. Finally, she went quiet.
* * * * *
Elizabeth lay still next to Adam, her heart thumping quickly. She waited until she heard his heavy breathing, proving he was asleep, before she got up and went to the bathroom attached to their bedroom [that’d be the ‘ensuite’, yes? And to think I could have snuck another French word in there]. She looked in the mirror. Her eyes were red from crying. She had cried every day since the train accident. Her life felt empty and worthless without Sherrie. Oh, how she missed her little girl. If only…
It had been a very difficult time since the accident. Elizabeth hoped that Sherrie was still alive, but it wasn’t looking good. She had heard from a friend of hers, that there were still people missing, and her friend was about to give her more information when Adam had interrupted their phone call because he thought Elizabeth needed to rest.
Adam. He didn’t want Elizabeth to talk about Sherrie or to read the papers, or to make any phone calls to the authorities about Sherrie. At first, she thought he was trying to shield her from it all, but now…she wasn’t so sure.
She looked at herself in the mirror again. Adam had just raped her. He had taken her against her will. She felt dirty. She ran the shower, and then stood under its hot spray, wishing for the pain to go away.
After she got out of the shower and dried herself off, she heard the doorbell. She grabbed her dressing gown, and ran downstairs to see who it was. Adam was still sleeping. Good, she thought.
She opened the door and was surprised to see Sherrie’s friend standing there. “Aliza!” she exclaimed. Her eyes began to brim with tears again.
Aliza looked concerned, “I’m sorry Ms Dol…I mean, Mrs Brair. I don’t want to upset you.”
Elizabeth shook her head. “No, no, Aliza. I am glad you came, non? It is good to see you.” She embraced the delicate girl in her arms. “Come inside, please.”
Aliza shook her head. “No, thank you Mrs Brair. I shouldn’t. I am on my way home from ballet class, and my mother will worry about me if I don’t get home soon. I just wanted to bring you something I found today.” She lifted up a shopping bag and handed it to Elizabeth. “These are Sherrie’s. She left them behind the day of the…” her voice trailed off. [I was really in to the whole ‘voice trailed off’ thing. I think this was used a lot in those Sweet Dream romance novels I was in to back then. VERY dramatic.]
Elizabeth looked inside the bag and pulled out two shiny, pink ballet slippers. They were Sherrie’s favourite and special slippers that her grandmother – Elizabeth’s mother – had bought for her. Elizabeth stared at them in shock for a while. Then she burst in to tears.
“I-I’m so sorry, Mrs Brair. I just thought…”
“No, Aliza,” Elizabeth interrupted. “You were right to bring these to me. Merci. Merci.” She hugged the girl again.
“I have to go now, Mrs Brair. You will let us know if you hear anything else, won’t you?”
“I promise you, Aliza. Promise.”
Aliza turned and ran down the steps. Then, suddenly, she turned back around and said to Elizabeth, “Did the police say whether they had found out who the girl who lost her memory was?”
Elizabeth looked confused. “Which girl, Aliza?” she asked curiously.
“Oh, you didn’t hear? That’s strange.” She frowned. “There was a girl they found after the accident. She was badly burnt and couldn’t remember who she was. On the news, they said they hadn’t found her parents and no one had claimed her. I just thought that maybe…” her voice trailed off. [Like I said…]
Elizabeth was shocked. Adam had not told her about this girl. “Do you know where she is, Aliza? The girl?”
“Non, Mrs Brair. I think I had heard she was going to some place in Paris to have her face fixed.”
Elizabeth drew in her breath. “I will keep you posted, Aliza. I promise.”
“Ok, merci. Au revoir.”
Elizabeth didn’t answer the girl. She was deep in thought.
Adam had not told her about a girl being found. What if it was Sherrie?
She raced inside to her kitchen and hunted for the business card of the policeman she knew Adam had spoken to. Finally, she found it under a pile of papers on the kitchen table. Her hands shook as she dialed the number.
“Bonjour, madame,” she said when a woman answered the phone. “Could I please speak to Mr Lamond?”
“Oui. Of course. I will put your through,” came the reply.
Elizabeth’s heart was racing. Maybe she had found Sherrie? Maybe the girl without her memory was her daughter?
“Bonjour. This is Mr Lamond, speaking.”
“Bonjour, Mr Lamond. My name is Elizabeth Brair. I am the mother of Sherrie Dolty who has been missing from the train accident. I wanted to talk to you about the girl who has lost her memory. I want to find out if it is my daughter.”
Oooh. It's getting exciting, isn't it? Ahem.
Catch you next week. ;)
Image: We Heart It