Page 34 of Obedience

‘That’s a lot of can’ts, G. Why so many? Is she with someone else?’ Elaine said gently.

‘No, of course she isn’t, but—’

‘But nothing.’

‘Mum, you don’t understand—’

‘But. Nothing,’ Elaine enunciated sharply. ‘If you both want to be together you will find a way.’

Brilliant, Greta thought. The matter was settled then. All it needed was Elaine’s mere utterance of you will find a way. As if life were that easy. As if this impossible situation could be remedied by strong will and good intention alone.

Greta watched as her mum took off her glasses and pushed them into her hair, knowing that she would forget they were there and hunt for them for a few minutes before remembering. She fixed her gaze on her lovely mum, the neat grey bob pushed behind her ears, the lines etched around her eyes and lips. She scanned her beautiful face, her kind eyes and deeply furrowed brow, but offered nothing to encourage the conversation. She didn’t say: but she’s a twenty-eight-year-old university student and an escort who I have paid for two years to obey and fuck me. Deciding that perhaps wasn’t the most appropriate post-dinner chat with her parents.

Her mother’s view of the world was usually a comfort, but her over-simplification of Greta’s turmoil was becoming a constant frustration. With a heart made of solid gold Elaine meant well, but if she had all the facts, her laissez-faire all you need is love response would surely seem implausible.

As the only constant in a life of such cruel variables, Greta had always gravitated back to Elaine and Eddie, her Mum and Dad. They were her safety net and her sanctuary, never too much, never not enough. Starting over with them at fourteen had been easier than they had all anticipated. Eve, Greta’s mother, had died giving birth to Greta, so she had never had the love of a mother as a child. But the unconditional love, acceptance and fierce adoration for the little girl Eddie and Elaine claimed as their own, quickly dismantled her belief that she was an unlovable pariah—a belief instilled in her by her biological father, who had abandoned her as a teenager after their relationship fractured beyond repair. Under the warmth of their support, their daughter—the word they used at Greta’s behest—didn't just recover; she was able to fulfil her overwhelming need to grow and breathe and be the person she needed to be.

Through the messy process of self-discovery, Elaine and Edward’s love never wavered or let Greta down. In a world unready for her sexuality, their love was the only thing that felt absolute. She was no longer stifled by fear or terrified of rejection. At sixteen she officially became Greta Vincent, changing from her family name of Massarano. She carried that name into her doctorate. She was Dr Greta Vincent because of them.

They tried to share the crushing weight of Muriel’s death. When Greta’s grief became too much for her friends to witness, they looked away, eventually stepping away completely, leaving her in a void that Elaine felt compelled to try to fill with love. But lately, it had all begun to suffocate Greta as Elaine’s love had sharpened into a frantic, overbearing concern. Although her parents still remained her only true confidants, her fiercest and proudest cheerleaders, the scales were tipping into an unhealthy balance. Her mother’s own agony at watching Greta mourn still was beginning to feel less like support and more like a burden all of its own. Greta felt trapped by her own life. Circumstances and choices had hemmed her in, making it impossible to seek advice, or to talk to anyone.

Edward broke the silence.

‘Greta, you know we’re here. Whatever you decide. If it’s too soon— ’ Elaine interjected with a huff. Edward started again, stretching the syllables with increased volume and clout. ‘If it’s too soon, then it’s too soon. If she doesn’t make you feel good, or care for you, then she’s no good for my girl. Okay?’

As she slowly nodded, Greta stared lovingly at her father. He always made her feel fourteen again. Not watched but seen, safe and adored.

‘Can I say something?’ Elaine asked, brows raised indignantly. Edward caught Greta’s eye and rolled his own. ‘Am I allowed to speak?’

Greta refrained from joining Edward’s eye roll. ‘Mum, don’t be silly. Of course you can speak.’

‘You never usually need permission, Lainey,’ Edward bravely said, earning him a curt glance and loud tut.

‘What does the rest of your life look like, Greta?’ Greta dropped her gaze to the floor. The weight of the question splinted her diaphragm and burned her eyes. ‘You have been alone for five years— ’

‘Lainey, for God’s sake!’ Edward yelled.

‘No, Eddie. Let me say it.’ Elaine raised a halting hand toward him, her eyes locked on Greta’s. ‘You have everything a person could possibly want, but you deprive yourself of the one thing you need. The one thing every person needs. It’s such a waste! Enough, Greta.’ Greta’s eyes glistened with rapidly gathering tears. Elaine moved across the kitchen, throwing her arms around her daughter just as Greta finally broke. She pulled her in, the way only a mother could, and whispered into her hair. ‘Enough, Greta. Please.’

***

Priya drained her coffee cup and held Dylan’s gaze as she softly placed it on the kitchen table. Opposite her, Dylan sat blinking, nibbling at her thumbnail, her face contorting with anxious winces, waiting with bated breath for feedback.

‘You didn’t block her number, though? Or delete it? You still have it?!’ Priya asked.

‘Yep, I still have it. I can’t do it.’ Dylan shook her head. ‘It’s been ages, and I know it’s done, I know I’ll never see her again, but I can’t bring myself to do it.’

Dylan had been so desperate to talk to someone that she’d finally broken, spilling the whole story to Priya. Every last detail, minus the actual minutiae of the weekly hotel meetings. She felt that to be a touch too much information. Even without that, admitting that she had escorted lodged in her throat like a brick. It had taken Priya’s gentle, patient coaxing to pull it out, but much to Dylan’s relief, she had been entirely unfazed.

‘Why don’t you just ring her, Dyl?’ Dylan shook her head again, her fingers flicking at the rim of her cup. ‘Look,’ Priya went on, ‘I know the whole thing might feel like an impossible mess, but I can see how much you like her.’

‘Nah. It’s done, Pri. I’ll get over it,’ Dylan said blithely. ‘I just miss her, which is stupid because I don’t even know her.’

‘I can see why you would think that it’s done but—’

‘She’s obviously moved on, got a new escort, or girlfriend even. She’s so hot I can’t really understand why she’s alone.’

‘That’s the point though, Dyl, you don’t know anything. She might be having this very same conversation with her incredibly beautiful, worldly-wise nurse friend.’