your respective accommodation forthwith. Come with me, please.’
Seefan rose obediently and began to follow Carl but Sarah stood her ground. ‘I would rather stay here than be locked in my room, thank you!’
Carl sighed. ‘Miss Penjan, please explain to Miss Churchill that unless she does as she is told, neither of you will be allowed to come here again and that would be a pity.’
Sarah glared at him, her lips drawn tight in anger, her eyes flashing bright green but Seefan stepped in and defused the situation. ‘Come Sarah, please.’
8
By lunchtime the following day, Sarah was thoroughly bored with her own company so when Carl arrived to unlock the door to admit the kitchen maid, she was ready. ‘I would like to spend some time in the library. I have nothing to do here and …’
‘Yes, of course,’ he replied, almost as if he anticipated her request. He nodded towards the tray. ‘Eat your lunch like a good little girl. I will return in one hour, and if you have done well, then I would be pleased to escort you to the library. If it is company you seek, perhaps Miss Penjan might care to join you.’
Sarah smiled sweetly although she relished the thought of dropping this monster where he stood.
She ate what she wanted then flushed the rest down the toilet, leaving a suggestive portion for the sake of authenticity. He seemed pleased when he returned so Sarah breezed out the door and straight downstairs, leaving Carl huffing and puffing in her wake.
*****
The selection of books in the library was astounding. Carefully grouped by subject, the range was varied, worldly and occasionally macabre. Books on superstition, torture, witchcraft and demonology shared the shelves with medical texts, biographies, historical texts, poetry, saints and zoology. She paused briefly at works by Jean-Paul Sartre and Voltaire, Conrad and Alexander Pope set neatly beside volumes on Constitutional Monarchy, the French Revolution, the Spanish Inquisition and not surprising on a shelf nearby, the Kama Sutra.
She swallowed hard and moved on quickly, finally selecting a book on medieval beliefs and customs. When she reached the section on arranged marriages, particularly between older men and girls as young as fourteen, she returned the book to the shelf and chose instead a medical text that seemed familiar.
She couldn’t concentrate. Finally she set the book aside and wandered over to the window to look out, beyond the thick metal bars. The day was dying, moving from one shade of grey into the next, growing deeper into shadow beneath a sky heavy with clouds promising rain. The vast expanse of open lawn was dotted with massive oak trees, while sheep grazed, their wool parted down the middle of their backs, hanging limp and sodden on either side.
‘Where am I?’ she whispered aloud.
In one hell of a fix, that’s where.
She turned away from the window to allow her eyes to wander around the room, although she wasn’t actually seeing very much through a veil of tears that had formed in sympathy with her trembling lips and tight throat. ‘Keep calm. It’s important that I keep calm, think, find an avenue of escape; find some way out.’
Not this time, Sarah. This isn’t one of those dates gone wrong where you can excuse yourself to the Ladies then grab a taxi instead, leaving the guy behind with an empty chair to stare at, and the bill. This time you’re going to be stuck with the bill and a lot more besides. Ha Ha.
‘Shut up!’ she shouted at herself. ‘The flight: morning came too soon, which suggests ... what? Could a plane like that fly the Atlantic? Probably ... well ... just. Ergo, most likely Ireland. Of course! When the driver got out of the car, the steering wheel was on the right, not the left. Ireland! Holy cow!’
Hey babe, you’re an import! Maybe you should ask how much you cost. That would be interesting. What is the going rate these days for imported virgins? But then again, from the looks of this place, he can afford it. Maybe that’s his hobby. Some guys fix up old cars, some skydive and some collect girls and force them to have children by them. It sounds reasonable to me. Maybe he’s planning to father a whole baseball team, or would it be cricket? What a pleasant thought, sitting and watching little Freddie or Susie playing away happily with his/her half brothers and sisters. What a Mother’s Day event that would be; a regular Develin family excursion! Except, I don’t think he keeps the mothers. Sorry about that.
So, you asked and there it is. You’re somewhere in Ireland, on a private estate most likely, with a man who has lots of money and absolutely no sense of morality, who will quite happily beat you to death if you don’t behave. Does that sound about right? Have I left anything out? Oh yes, after the boss is finished with you, and assuming there’s something left, Igor gets a turn. Then what? What do you mean ‘then what’? You know what, so please spare me the denial bit. In fact, I think you’d better start practicing the yes’s, because, quite frankly, I don’t think this bastard is going to take no for an answer. And, I don’t think he’s prepared to wait long before he insists upon seeing a return on his investment, if you take my meaning.
She thought of her father. By now he would know that she had disappeared. ‘I’m sorry Dad. You see, I went on this date with this guy and well, you wouldn’t believe what happened!’ Sarah sobered. Her father already had a major drinking problem, ever since her mother died, and now this.
Then she saw the telephone on a side table near the door. Quickly she crossed the room and picked up the receiver. At first she wasn’t sure if it was working, then …
‘Switchboard.’ A male voice. There was a slight pause. ‘I am sorry, Miss Churchill, but Mr. Develin has left strict instructions not to allow you access to an outside line. My apologies.’
The telephone went dead in her hand. For a second she thought she was going to be sick but Seefan arrived just then so she wiped away the tears, squared her shoulders and smiled bravely.
They talked about all sorts of silly things. Sarah tried to amuse Seefan with several humorous stories going the rounds at med-school, but it was obvious that Seefan was not up to a rapid repartee, perhaps because Sarah would occasionally slip from the conversation to test the various doors that lead off the library.
‘Would you try to escape?’ Seefan asked, perplexed.
‘With him away? Damn right I would.’
‘You would not get far. This house, it lies in the middle of a vast tract of land, some, it is said, filled with a mud that will suck you to your death. Wild and windblown are the highlands, the forests deep and filled with wild animals. At night, dogs are set free to roam through the darkened hours.’ She shivered.
Sarah was less than impressed. ‘I’ll take my chances with quicksand, exposure and a pack of mongrels, thank you very much. At least if I die, I die trying.’ Her eyes filled with tears but she quickly wiped them away. ‘It’s academic in any case. We’re locked in tight.’ She returned and sat down beside Seefan. ‘What we need is some music.’
‘There is a machine that plays, here in the cupboard,’ Seefan volunteered as she slid off the leather sofa. Quickly she unhooked a series of wood panels then folded them back to reveal a magnificent jukebox.
‘It’s a Wurlitzer!’
