Chapter 21

Kitty

Being lashed over cane strokes burned away my bleakness. 

I cried, heavy aching sobs, as each stroke fell. 

Maybe it was a release after the presentation, or being told to look more normal. 

Or needing to be good, but feeling like I was bad. 

I didn’t tell Astrid any of that, but she seemed to understand something anyway.

By the time she was done, the bedspread was sodden from snotty crying and sweat. 

Slowly, I was able to catch my breath and a softness I had come to recognise washed over me. 

My thoughts became still and my exhale slowed. 

My consciousness returned to Astrid caressing my backside gently. 

I could have cried just from that. 

I twisted round to look up at her, to find she was looking down at me, soft and kind. 

She helped me kneel so she could swing her legs onto the bed. 

Lying down, she pulled me into her arms. 

I nuzzled into her neck and cried again. 

Astrid’s hand was in my hair, stroking the shaved part and then running through the lengths that weren’t. 

It was perfect. 

I didn’t want it to end. 

I tried to linger there. 

I drifted. 

“Darling, did you hear me?” she asked gently.

“Hhmmn?”

“I’m going to have to go home tonight, sweetie,” she seemed to repeat and my stomach lurched.

I tried to get up quickly and immediately regretted it. 

“Fuck!”

As much as the strapping might have helped my state of mind, my arse was still an inferno. 

I rested on my side and looked at her only slightly awkwardly. 

“Umm… okay, Miss” I said, instead of begging her to stay.

“We’ll see each other tomorrow,” she promised, “I presume you’re still coming over.”

“Yes, Miss.” 

The next day was to be one of our two regular weekly dates, and knowing that made the prospect of her going a little easier. But not much. 

She kissed my forehead and leaned back, her expression unreadable. 

“I don’t like to discipline and run,” her flippancy stung.

“Yes of course, Miss.”

She stroked my cheek but I still couldn’t read her expression. 

Was she happy for me, happy to be with me, happy to be going? 

I closed my eyes and shuffled closer, yearning for the bliss from just moments earlier. 

She cradled me in her arms and I rested there, but it wasn’t the same. 

We had tea in the kitchen before she left. 

For her part, she was cheerful. 

When we were done, I walked her out to where her scooter was parked and wrapped my arms around myself against the cold. 

“You can go in, sweetie, you don’t have to see me off,” Astrid said kindly as she buckled her helmet.

“It’s alright, Miss,” I huffed out some steam and regretted not at least grabbing a jumper on the way out. 

“Okay,” she gave me a side eye as she stepped firmly into the kickstart.

The moped sputtered and burped but did little else. 

“Come on, don’t crap out on me,” Astrid prayed with a chuckle to the pink machine. 

She kicked it again causing it to burr sickly. 

“Fuck!” she cursed as she pulled at the choke, tipped the Vespa to one side, and kicked a couple more times only to encourage more angry sputtering from the machine in response.

“Shit, shit, shit,” she started to panic, “Don’t do this!”

“Can I help?”

“Not unless you’re a mechanic,” Astrid bit at me. 

“Fuck, sorry,” she immediately apologised, “But fuck! Shit! Cunt!”

She tried the kickstart again but the scooter coughed the same whimper. 

“This can’t be happening!”

“Miss, it’s okay,” I tried to placate, “Can’t we just call a shop and get them to take it in?”

“I can’t afford that!” she wailed, “I need to work and I can’t work if she’s fucked!”

“Hey,” I tried to calm her, “We’ll sort it, come inside…”

“You don’t get it!” she screamed and I stepped back involuntarily, “Fuck! The scooter… just needs to work.”

“It will,” I promised with no reason to believe it would, “Come in, we’ll call a garage.”

She tried the kickstart once more. 

“Miss?” I stepped close and gently touched her shoulder which made her jerk, “Miss… come inside… please.”

Even when she told me about Anne I hadn’t seen her like this. Wild tears ran down her face. Her bottom lip quivered and she looked pale and terrified. 

She let me lead her inside and I sat her in the kitchen with a cup of tea. 

I left her reluctantly for the Yellow Pages and the phone. 

“I got hold of a place, and they can bring it in tonight, Miss,” I returned to her, proud of my work, “I bargained them down to £50 for the pick up and assessment.”

“I can’t afford it, Kitty,” she looked up from her mug, forlorn, her eyes puffy and red, “I can’t afford the pick up and I can’t afford the repairs.”

“I’ll get it, Miss.”

“No,” she answered simply. 

“It’s alright, I can afford it,” I smiled, “I’ll put it on my overdraft.”

“Absolutely not,” she seemed almost angry.

“Miss, I can do it, it’s okay.”

She sat silent, looking like she was about to explode, or argue, or cry again.

“I will pay you back immediately,” she whispered.

“You don’t have t…”

“I will pay you back immediately,” she repeated before I could finish, emphasising each word and fixing me with a firm gaze.

“Of course,” I raised my hands and quickly added, “Miss.”

She didn’t say a word while we waited for the van. 

I made more tea. 

Eventually I stood behind her and stroked her shoulders. She was coiled tight as a drum and I didn’t know what to say. 

“‘Ello you two,” Andy cheered as he trotted out of his room, red-faced from make-up remover in his matching Calvin Klein t-shirt and jeans, “Thought I heard you out here.”

He strutted up to the fridge and pulled out hummus, pita bread, and cucumber. 

“Well, I did hear you two earlier as well,” he retrieved a plate and knife, “The music doesn’t cover everything. just so you know.”

He turned to us with a wicked grin, which fell when actually looking at us. 

“Fuck, did someone die?”

“Astrid’s scooter,” I hushed.

“Oh,” Andy plonked himself down at the table, “That’s shit.”

“We’re waiting for the van,” I explained.

“All sorted then,” Andy munched cheerfully. 

“Excuse me,” Astrid mumbled and stood. 

I backed up stiffly to let her step away. 

“Andy!” I whisper-screamed when Astrid was in the bathroom, “She’s upset about it, you clueless oaf.”

“How was I supposed to know that?” he asked indignantly. 

“I don’t know, the mascara running down her cheeks?” I hissed. 

“What is the problem, for goodness’ sake?”

I looked to the bathroom. 

“I think it was just a shock,” I decided, and then lied, “It’s how she gets to work, but it’s all sorted.”

Not too much later, I was out on the pavement again and paying the driver, who put the scooter on the back of a trailer. 

“We’ll go in the morning, Miss,” I encouraged Astrid as we watched it be pulled away, “We’ll get an estimate then.”

“I’m tired,” was all she said as she turned to go back inside. 

I took her to bed and we both slept, neither of us well. 

Astrid

I was still numb in the morning. 

My Vespa was at ’the shop.’ wherever that was, and I was in Kitty’s kitchen nursing a now luke-warm cup of tea. 

Kitty cut us a grapefruit and made toast and marmalade, whilst humming tunelessly. 

I never ate breakfast. 

I usually just grabbed a fry up when I took a break from my route. 

Kitty sprinkled sugar on the grapefruit and put it in front of me.

“Thank you,” I mumbled. 

“You’re welcome, Miss,” she curtseyed. 

In a flash, I was furious at her. 

But I didn’t say anything and ground my teeth instead. 

Fuck, what was wrong with me?!

“Can I get you anything else, Miss?” Kitty poised to sit down. 

“No,” I grumbled, “I mean, no, thank you. Please, sit.” 

“Thank you, Miss,” she curtseyed again and sat down. 

I tried to focus on breakfast. 

“They said they’d call once they had a chance to look it over, Miss,” Kitty offered as she buttered her toast. 

I nodded and tried to make an effort with the grapefruit. 

I couldn’t remember the last time I ate one. 

Caroline liked them. 

Maybe I had one with her? 

Despite the sugar it tasted bitter. 

We sat in silence. 

“It’s going to be okay, Miss,” Kitty insisted after finishing her toast.

I looked up at her earnest face. 

She was trying so hard.

I wanted to smile at her and take her word. 

She was helping. She really was.

I managed to nod, not trusting myself to do anything else. 

Kitty crunched into a second piece of toast, still not daring to take her eyes off me. 

I tried to be polite with the grapefruit when the phone rang. 

“Oh,” Kitty exclaimed, seeming happy at the opportunity to leave the table. 

She jogged to the hallway for the phone, and even her little half-run rubbed me the wrong way. 

God! I screamed at myself, You’re being such a fucking cunt to her! 

Kitty was doing so much for me. 

And if she hadn’t, I wouldn’t have any idea of what to do. 

There was no way I could get the Vespa fixed myself. 

I felt so fucking… helpless. 

“Um,” Kitty frowned as she returned, “They said the carburettor needs rebuilding. The jets are all worn out or something.”

“Okay,” I answered, still numb, but now also terrified. 

“They can do it,” she smiled wanly, “But it’s going to be… Look, never mind, they can do it.”

“Tell me,” I ordered.

“It’s…” Kitty started and then sighed, “It’s going to be expensive.”

I lowered my head in defeat.

“But look,” Kitty encouraged, “I can cover it, it’s fine.”

“It’s not fine,” I grit my teeth, tears welling and frustration constricting my chest.

“Miss,” Kitty soothed, finally remembering my title and fuck I wanted to bite her head off for that too, but knew I would be an absolute monster if I did just then, “It is, please, I’ll pay it, and then you pay me back whenever you can.”

Kitty laid a hand on my shoulder and I almost jumped out of my skin. 

Kitty jerked back. 

“Fuck!” I stood quickly, trying to mask my reaction to her and failing spectacularly, “I… I don’t think…” 

I stopped talking and hugged my arms around myself. 

I frantically tried to plot a way in which I wouldn’t be beholden to Kitty. 

But there was nothing. 

No one I knew had any money. 

Certainly not any they could pull together quickly. 

And I couldn’t miss any more work.

“How… how quickly can they do it?” I asked quietly. 

“They can start right now,” Kitty said brightly, “The parts they need are rare because of the scooter’s age, which is why it’s pricey, but they had a contact in the city and could get them today.” 

The Vespa had been my uncle’s. 

He’d been the only one who had been there for me when I got caught kissing Gemma at school. When I had to just leave. 

He gave me what money he had and the Vespa. It was the only reason I had been able to get away. 

He died not long after. 

I only found out when I called one drunken night, to say thank you. 

His wife picked up and screamed at me. 

The memory seared and I felt like I was going to fall to pieces. 

I straightened my spine instead and looked at Kitty as her Mistress. 

“Okay…” I struggled, “If, and only _if_ it is okay... please pay them and arrange for how I can collect Ruby.”

“Yes, Miss,” Kitty straightened too.

“You will note the total cost and tell me immediately,” I continued. 

“Yes, Miss.”

“And I will pay you back as soon as I can.”

“Yes, Miss.”

I stood silently. 

Kitty looked uncertain. 

I closed the distance between us and collected her into my arms. 

She held me tightly.

“Thank you, girl,” I fought back the urge to thrust her away from me. 

“You’re welcome, Miss,” she mumbled into my shoulder. 

I forced myself to be more upbeat as Kitty piled the dishes by the sink. 

I also tried my best to ignore that she didn’t wash them. 

I wondered instead how long they would sit there and what Kelly would make of it. 

I stopped myself when I felt the tyrannical urge rising in me, ready to give Kitty a whole bunch more rules. 

“Perhaps we could go for a walk?” I suggested as cheerily as I could muster, “I seem to have the day, and if you aren’t too busy?”

She thought about it and then replied unconvincingly, “No, Miss, not too busy.”

I considered pressing her on her answer, but felt like I had been pushing it too much already.

“Okay, then,” I continued to try to make up for something, “Perhaps along the river?”

“Oh yes!” Kitty brightened in a way that soothed my conscience a little, “There’s a lovely place we could have lunch, Miss.”

“Yes,” I held back an angry comment about not being able to afford that either, “Okay.”

“Let me make some calls first, Miss?” she asked cryptically, already getting up. 

“Of course,” I smiled tightly. 

“Thank you, Miss,” she jogged off again, this time to get her mobile. 

I rose to the sink and found soap to wash the dishes. 

I could hear Kitty’s muffled voice talking in her bedroom as I worked.

“Oh, Miss, you don’t need to do that,” she said as she returned, “I can do them later, or maybe the maid.” 

I was barely listening to her, distracted as I was by her change into her suit. 

I was struck by how dashing she looked and I smiled warmly for the first time since the previous 

evening. 

“Oh my,” I admired. 

“You like?” she shuffled shyly

“I do,” I turned away from the sink to take her in. 

She looked so much more comfortable. 

Perhaps just more genuine? 

I felt a swell of pride.

“I wanted to make an effort, Miss, for our stepping out?” she winced dramatically.

“Oh, fuck, Kitty,” I shook my head and she grinned. 

“Okay,” I pulled the plug in the sink and dried my hands on a tea-towel. 

I turned to take Kitty in again and tried not to feel under-dressed in my riding habit. 

I just wanted to go home to sulk, “Um… Let me freshen up first?”

I managed a passable wash in Kitty’s shared bathroom. 

I had mascara and lipstick in my bag but I still didn’t feel comfortable ’stepping out’ in a dress I only wore for work. It felt odd being the less formally attired as we strolled towards the South 

Bank. 

Turning my attention away from the roiling mess of my emotions, I noticed it was the kind of stunning Autumnal day that was so rare in the city. Bright sun, clear blue sky, and a brisk but not uncomfortable breeze that didn’t stink of the Thames backflow. 

We walked along the river arm in arm and I found I was starting to relax. 

I glanced now and again at Kitty, who seemed to be walking taller.

Kitty, for her part, was relishing telling me about the way the wharfs had been used in previous centuries. When we came to The Golden Hind, a reproduction of an actual fucking galleon improbably parked in the water between two tall nondescript buildings, she told me about how the original had sailed around the world in Elizabethan times. 

Her passion was infectious. 

Her wide eyes and wild gesturing made me laugh as she improvised what she thought historical figures at the time might have sounded like. 

I was charmed and felt lighter by the time we stopped at Blackfriars bridge to look over the river. 

The sun dappled the Thames in a way that almost made it inviting. 

Kitty recalled a myth of students who would jump into the river at the beginning of term and have to come out to months’ long series of vaccinations. 

I slapped her arm playfully for ruining the moment, which made her laugh and apologise. 

I shut her up with a kiss. 

We separated but held our embrace. 

I looked into her deep brown eyes and felt warm. 

And well. 

She looked back at me with a softness that moved me. 

And just for then, it felt okay to be helpless with her.

Kitty led us to a pub that overlooked the water, somewhere I would never have picked myself. 

Kitty offered to pay and the anxiety of the morning flared again. 

But she flat out begged me and said she would drop to her knees right there on the pavement, which made me laugh. 

I told her I would let her get lunch, but would repay her with a treat that had been bubbling in my mind since we went shopping, and now I had seen her out in her suit, I knew I absolutely wanted to do it with her. 

“Treat, Miss?” she asked as were handed menus. 

“Oh, that would be telling,” I teased, “You’ll just have to do as you’re told.”

“How is that different from any other time, Miss?”

“Well… I suppose in no way,” I had to admit with a chuckle, “but in this case, someday soon, I’ll 

send you instructions, and you will just have to follow them.”

She looked nervous, which made me grin.

“What do you say?” I asked, winsomely.

“Yes, Miss? 

“Damn right.”