Page 286 of Sublime Trust


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“She is quite adequate,” said Mark, holding his glass up for a mini-toast accompanied by a wink.

“He’s had her for some years now. It was meant to be temporary, but she stayed. Finding your own will be the challenge.”

“I’ll persevere. There will be someone to suit my sadistic tastes. I can be patient.”

“Sadistic tastes?” I couldn’t resist poking my nose into the conversation. “How did they develop, Mark? Did you tease your pet bunny rabbit as a child?” As soon as I said the words, I had overstepped my remit as congenial hostess. Jason glared down his nose in my direction, and I ducked my head, returning to squishing peas on my plate.

Mark handled my irritation in good spirits. “Not rabbit, Mrs Lucas, German Shepherd. I trained him to bite. A good bite is invaluable sometimes.”

I grinned. Mark knew how to stand his ground.

I switched on the coffee grinder, stacked the dishwasher, and throughout my tidying up, I banged, clattered, and slammed things down. I screamed in my head for release, except I didn’t know I needed it until Jason came up behind me and squeezed my hips, pinning me against the worktop.

“Listen.” He propped his chin on the top of my head. “Either you find your place, or I will put you there. The choice is yours.” He left me to stew as I focused on the aroma of Arabica coffee beans.

Inhaling the bitter perfume, my breathing steadied, and I closed my eyes, trying to visualise images of my submission, like I had done in the chalet, but nothing came to mind except abstract paintings hung upside down, shattered sculptures, and the damn toilet in the gallery flooding the floor, again.

Oh God! I needed Jason to slap me into place. He would want me to arrive there unaided, as I’d done in New York. I couldn’t fail him again. I chanted a mantra. I am two people in one: the working mum who makes decisions and the dutiful submissive wife. I had done it before in my previous jobs, and it never had been an issue back then, flitting between my domestic and working personas.

Glancing over my shoulder, I saw Jason by the breakfast bar, his expression neutral, not angry, which he was entitled to be, and I felt a modicum of contriteness at my rude behaviour.

“We’re going to the sitting room,” he announced, loosening his tie. “If you want to join us, you can, or you can stay here.”

I paused. I was almost there, but not quite, “I’ll stay here for a little while longer, Master. Then I will be ready for you. The coffee, too.”

“Good girl.” He smiled.

Those lovely words of affection gave me jelly legs. He picked up the baby monitor and left the room.

Later, after I’d completed my tidying-up chores, I knelt by his feet, and he stroked my hair. A nothingness descended over me—it felt superlative.

“Why six months in Cardiff?” asked Jason, swilling his tumbler of whisky.

He’d been probing Mark about his past. The topics had ranged from Gliech’s business model to difficult clients and the constantly changing tax laws. Jason enquired about Mark’s previous job.

“Secondment from the head office in Manchester, and not a great success. I’d hoped it would stretch me, but, in the end, it was a babysitting job while they restructured. I was delighted when the agency approached me about Gliech. I’d always wanted to work in the City.”

“Before then? You had another job when you graduated,” said Jason.

My ears pricked up. Jason had Martinson scrutinise Mark because he had met me. Jason’s interrogation style—subtle and polite—kicked into play. He sought something from Mark.

“Yes.” Mark paused. “That company doesn’t exist any longer. I believe you bought it out and sold it off, piece by piece, Mr Lucas.” His tone had hardened, giving off a sense of dissatisfaction.

I lifted my head off Jason’s lap and gazed into his face, probing that almost impenetrable expression. His eyes sparkled, almost with humour. I tensed, my back straightening. Had Mark been one of those Jason had made redundant in the past after he’d bought up a company? Was Mark bitter? I gulped back an exclamation—did he plan to expose Jason’s secrets, my little scene?

“I believe I did,” agreed Jason. “You were made redundant.”

“Indeed. The terms were not great. Unfortunately, the company wasn’t in good shape. I’d taken the job because, as a graduate, you have to start somewhere, and I needed the job while completing my post-graduate accountancy training.”

Jason put down his tumbler and laced his fingers together, tapping the tips on his lower lip. “You didn’t enjoy working there?”

They eyeballed each other like two cowboys about to have a shootout.

“I sought experience, not pleasure. I certainly got experience.” Mark scowled. “The wrong type.”

“The wrong type? Don’t be alarmed, Mark. I know full well what you found out. After all, I bought the company. It was very pleasurable for me picking that one apart. There were good profitable sectors, but unfortunately there were extremely bad ones, especially in the accountancy division. The division where you worked.”

My mouth opened and shut. I itched to ask questions, but it wasn’t my place to interfere. I let Jason control the conversation.

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