A Price to Paye Ch. 04

Chapter 4

Packing clothes carefully into a holdall, Sarah reflected on a crazy six months or so. After the unpleasantness of the incident with Davey, curse his eyes wherever he ended up, it all seemed to have been somewhat of a blessing in disguise.

Mark had forgiven her and the incident had receded into the background and eventually out of memory. Sarah's relationship with her mother had returned to a state of cordiality. Life had gone on.

She mused that things were just about as back to normal as things could have been. The only regret was the vigorousness of their love making had fell away back to pre-dalliance levels and Sarah accepted that this must just simply be the natural order of things.

Her packing was proceeding in a perfunctory fashion. Mark had suggested that maybe they should take a holiday away somewhere and after several false starts they had settled on a caravan out in North Wales. It wasn't exactly shopping in New York but after the year they had had it was a perfect chance to just go and disconnect from the world for a short while.

It was supposed to be a surprise but after several attempts to book a surprise get away had fallen flat due to a variety of issues Mark abandoned the surprise getaway and they planned it together. Marks friend had come through for them with a caravan on the side of a mountain in Wales and from all the pictures they had seen it looked gorgeous.

A selection of evening wear was added to the growing packed items and Sarah was done. As she made a quick check of her things to make sure nothing had been forgotten she made a snap decision to add her vibrator. She followed that by a second snap decision and threw in her one and only pair of black stockings. Just in case.

Mark was out picking up some supplies that would be needed and Sarah had impressed upon him the need for a large jar of Nutella. She had made an effort to try and shift some weight over the past months which ultimately in spite of her best effort had seen her lose only two pounds, but she was loathe to give up the Nutella. A girl has to keep certain standards after all.

Mark would be home soon and then they could get on with the drive out to the middle of nowhere.

For Mark the last six months hadn't quite been the same journey of self-reacceptance that Sarah had made. Since the Rubicon had been crossed with Anya, Mark had spent several weeks quietly probing Sarah to find a way for her to reveal the truth. As it turns out she was very unwilling to take the opportunity for redemption she was, albeit unbeknownst to her, being offered.

In the end the straw which had broken the camel's back came and went and planning, negotiation and implementation of planned retribution had begun to take shape. It was Anya who had provided the caravan home that they were going to travel to and an elaborate deception plan was instigated to completely dispel any suspicion.

Six weeks into planning and Anya had reveal a lot of details which would be stepping well and truly across the boundaries of many laws and she also took the time to remind Mark he was an accomplice in these matters. He was not stupid and knew that if once side screwed the other then they would both go down in flames. It was comforting for Mark to have that almost contractual bond with Anya.

For her part Anya was equally forthcoming with details and at the exact same time frustratingly vague. They agreed that Sarah's bogus online dating and online hook up accounts needed some additional material of a more personal nature to sell it as more believable to any interested onlooker and Mark had read some of the fictional exchanges between "Sarah" and her online suitors. Anya was very creative in the writing of some material that would make a drunken sailor blush. Come to think of it Mark wasn't sure it was Anya who had written it. It mattered not.

One evening Mark and Anya had discussed what Mark wanted from this snare they were setting. Over an incredible lasagne that Anya had made they cut through the bullshit. He wanted Sarah to know she wasn't in control anymore. He wanted her to suffer the way he felt he had suffered inside. The pain and the humiliation that just wouldn't disperse. Jokingly he said he wanted more sex but he realised it wasn't a joke. She was prepared to give up her pussy to someone else then why not him.

They had spent the rest of that evening outlining the overarching plan. It would involve Mark playing the dutiful dickhead husband, smiling and pretending everything was ok. He had managed it but it wasn't easy.

That being said he still repeatedly sought assurances regarding Sarah's wellbeing and safety and after some serious pressing Anya gave vocal confirmation Sarah would not be murdered, mutilated, dismembered or maliciously wounded in any permanent way. Mark wanted to ask what those specifics meant but chose not to; basing that decision along the lines that he scored the win he wanted and didn't want to risk a back track on anything. If Sarah was to take a slap then it was the very least she deserved he rationalised.

As the conspiracy grew and solidified Anya and her darker than expected past encroached in on Marks slightly more beige life. He was introduced to three gentlemen who were clued in as to what was occurring and clearly deferred to Anya. No real specifics were discussed with these guys and it was made clear it was just an effort to allow Mark to know that these guys may be about the area and not to concern himself too much. Mark got the impression that at least one of the men was chatting with "Sarah" on at least one of her online dating circles.

The plan had taken a strong shape and inwardly Mark was a little excited about it. The Karma behind a slut being caught in the trap of being a slut was ironic but also a little bit straight out of the Penthouse Forum stories. If it turned out a quarter as titillating as those bawdry tales then Mark was going to enjoy himself...

A couple of weeks before the trap was sprung Anya had asked Mark to collect a bag from her house one evening. This he dutifully done and when he nearly wrenched his back out of shape picking up a deceptively heavy plain black bag he had enquired as to the contents. He was told it was stuff needed for the job and the clanking of metal and the simple weight of the bag gave Mark some cause for concern. However he did not press the issue and elected to not open the bag deciding he didn't need to know and didn't want to know what the contents were.

The next day Anya and Mark had once again met up to eat another superb home cooked lasagne when the final element of the plan was stitched in to place. Anya had shown Mark an app on a phone which appeared to be an escort booking service. There was a very generic profile which had received almost no traffic which had been registered to an email address bearing Sarah's name. It was explained that it was blank for the time being and they would use the media content gathered to flesh out the profile as time moved along. It made a delicious twist and one Mark was certain Sarah wouldn't be able to manoeuvre out of.

Mark had ventured a question regarding the bags contents and Anya agreed to meet the next day to show Mark a little bit about a little bit.

The next day the plotting duo met and made the short journey to a tanning salon on a busy high street just across town. It was owned by an older lady who didn't query Anya as she entered the building and made her way upstairs to the flat above.

It took Mark a few moments to realise that this was a place where a prostitute worked. It was clean and functional and showed plenty of sign of wear and tear. Anya showed mark a cupboard and all the apparatus and devices contained within and implication thereof was left to hang in relation to the contents of the black bag.

That day a date was finalised and with that the planning phase or at least Marks element was complete. It was a relief to have the pressure lifted away and Mark and Anya got to chatting about non Sarah based issues, which was a luxury the two had not had for neigh on six months.

Mark realised he had never in all the time he had known her asked what she did for a living. Everything had always been centred on Davey and she had almost slipped in under the radar. He felt a little ashamed that he had never extended her that courtesy.

Anya told Mark she was involved in the family business which was something to do with installing road surfaces under contract for the local councils. Her family had made their legitimate money based on businesses bought from the proceeds of providing small short term loans to people who chose not to use traditional money lending avenues.

That explained quite a bit about this scheme they had concocted Mark had thought wryly.

With everything in place Mark made his way home with not one but two jars of Nutella. He decided that Sarah was going to have a bad week and within that bad week she was very likely going to have a very, very bad couple of days so he pushed to the expense to second jar. After all he decided, he wasn't a monster.

With the car packed with all the bags and all the supplies they were finally able to begin their journey. Of course one of them was going to embark on a much more arduous journey than the other but that is nature of consequence of action.

Following the satnav faithfully, Mark made good progress and since she wasn't required to drive, Sarah took advantage of the time to nap. You better get as much sleep as possible, Mark thought. He was though grateful that she had gone to sleep. It eliminated the need for small talk and though Marks resolve was strong, he still harboured a small amount of doubt now they stood on the threshold.

Some two and a half hours later Mark threaded the car gradually more and more uphill and houses and buildings became even more infrequent. Eventually he found the small village shop which doubled up as a post office and stopped. This was a pre-arranged rendezvous where the keys to the caravan could be collected. It also represented the point of no return.

With no preamble Mark headed straight inside and was not surprised in the slightest to recognise the face behind the counter. It was one of the three men whom Anya had brought into the plot some months ago. He had an Eastern European look to him and combined with the bald head, he looked a guy not to mess with.

For his part he made no sign of recognition toward Mark and Mark followed the example being set.

"I've come to collect a key for the Mountain Vale Retreat Caravan Park." He announced.

Mr Eastern European nodded "The name please?"

"Paye. Mark Paye."

The bald head disappeared under the counter and remerged with an envelope bearing Marks name which was handed over.

"Please check contents are correct as we are to close soon and cannot correct anything later." The clipped short sharp syllables definitely sounded Eastern European Mark decided. Polish perhaps? Russian? Romanian?

Mark peeled the envelope open and two keys dropped out onto the counter as well as a set of instructions on how to connect the gas supply and how to turn on the electricity to the caravan. There was also a list of local attractions to visit and things to do which brought a faint smile to the edges of Marks mouth given the nature of the visit to this area.

There was also a map printed from google maps showing the location of the caravan and the best route out there. It was apparently a further forty five minutes away and, at least according to the map he was looking at, very much in the middle of nowhere, not that he had doubted Anya in the least.

The final item was a piece of paper which simply said -if you don't hand the keys back we go ahead as planned.

Mark made a show of making a final check of the contents before screwing the note up and asking Eastern Europe to throw it away. He made a slightly bigger show of putting the keys into his pocket, partly for the friendly shop keeper's benefit and partly in case Anya was watching any CCTV which may or may not be recording.

Sarah awoke when Mark slammed the car door shut.

"We are about forty five minutes away." He said.

He handed to information pack to Sarah who took a look at the map and the attractions list.

"This is definitely isolated," she said. "How are we going to get to these restaurants that are twenty miles away?"

"I wouldn't worry about it." Mark replied.

Sarah didn't press the issue. It was a holiday after all. No point in worrying about these things just now.

They found the caravan easily enough following the map. It was a larger structure than Mark was expecting and seemed to be resting under an overhang of rock jutting from the side of the mountain. He was told what the mountain was called but as it was a Welsh name it was all double L's and a shotgun blast of consonants. Besides it wasn't the focus of his concerns for this week.

He took a moment to stretch his legs out after being incarcerated in the car for so long and he had to give it to Anya that she was absolutely spot on by saying they were as far from civilisation as they could be.

A glance at his watch told him that Anya and her crew would be here in about fifty minutes and Mark was mildly surprised that he was not nervous in the slightest. Once again though the camel's back was well and truly broken and he had already accepted what was coming and the new dynamics of his and Sarah's relationship. More than that he was looking forward to it.

He carried the bags in to the caravan and dumped them all in the third bedroom, which was the smallest making sure to put Anya's black bag of tricks well under one of the beds.

Sarah was undertaking an inspection tour of the caravan and was making suitable impressed noises about the size of the kitchen and the living room area. They were modern and fully stocked with a TV and DVD player and an assortment of other pieces of modern equipment. Under normal circumstances there was a broadband router but it had been removed for the time being to ensure that the caravan and the occupants would remain as isolated from the world as much as possible.

"Oh my god!" Sarah giggled.

Mark made his way in the second bedroom and immediately saw what had tickled his wife.

This bed room was spacious and was dominated by a double bed that had the effect of being a four post bed. The most striking feature was that the three walls that didn't have a window were all covered in mirrors and this too included the ceiling.

"We will defiantly have to give this a try" she said playfully.

"I'm sure this room will see quite a bit of action." Mark replied.

Sarah's giggling increased as she spotted that the posts at each corner of the bed showed sign of scratches and abrasive damage. It didn't take the brains of an arch bishop to work out how the marks were made.

"Looks like someone has been having a good time." Sarah chuckled.

"I'm sure that will continue." Mark said exiting the room giving Sarah's ass a light slap on the way past.

Mark took a quick moment to check out the third and final bedroom and was fully expecting a dungeon of some description and was a little disappointed to see it was conservatively turned out. Though he did notice that the built in furniture was heavier than was expected and had plenty of what appeared to be decorative bars and columns dotted around the bed and surfaces.

Mark noticed that each bar was padded in leather cushioning and this left Mark in no doubt as to the function beyond the decorative aspect.

With time winding down Mark made use of the wireless speaker and got some music playing and began to make a show a messing with the TV. Sarah had begun to settle into the master bedroom and Mark knew that she was finding the various electrical outlets in order to plug her phone in and configuring the best set up for the various hair appliances.

From his position on one of the sofa unit Mark could see down the trail that they themselves had driven up ponderously less than an hour ago. In the middle distance he could see a dark coloured 4x4 making its way up slowly and carefully.

Mark took a can of diet coke in to Sarah who said she was going to chill for a while. Mark closed the door doubting very much Sarah was going to be chilling out for quite some time. On the way back to the living area Mark made sure that the door was unlocked and resumed his observations of the approaching vehicle.

Sarah reclined on the bed. She had half attempted to unpack her stuff but settled on finding somewhere for her hair dryer; hair straighteners and phone charger could be plugged in. The rest could wait she thought.

As she lay there she tried in vain to get a phone signal. Being unplugged from the world was not something she relished but out here at the arse end of nowhere it appeared that the phone companies had neglected to get a signal booster installed locally.

She stretched out holding her phone higher in the air and tried directing it toward the window in a fruitless attempt to gain a better signal.

"Mark" She called. There was no answer. "Mark!!!"

She huffed and sighed as she climbed from the bed and opened the door.

"Mark!" she called again.

She walked into the front area of the caravan. She was lost in her own thoughts of no phone signal and where the hell was Mark when a female voice cut through closed blind gloom.

"Hello Sarah."

Sarah turned immediately toward the voice. She recognised the voice and in her shock and confusion she neglected to ask herself probably the most obvious question she could have asked; namely what was she doing her on their holiday.

"Hello Anya." She replied, eyes scanning for Mark.

"Please, sit." Anya gestured to a seating arrangement in front of where she sat. Sarah wasn't sure if that sofa was situated there when she arrived. She sat down warily.

"I've been meaning to get in touch-"Sarah blurted out.

"Shhhh babe. Shhh" Anya cut short Sarah's babble with a pair of fingers held vertically. "I know you have"

Tears began to well in the corner of Sarah's eyes. Anya had been like a sister to her and her betrayal had been bubbling under the surface since it had happened.

"I think it's about time we sorted this out once and for all don't you think?"

Sarah nodded dumbly, grateful to finally resolve this with Anya. She missed her friend and missed all the good times they had all had together. Maybe she and Anya and Mark could re-forge new good times. Where had Mark gotten to?

"I am so, so sorry!" Sarah blubbed. "If I could take it away I would, you know I would." Further words were smothered by a machine gun rattle of hysteria fuelled snotty tears.

Anya waited patiently for Sarah to regain a measure of control.

"We were friends Sarah" she began. "I don't understand why you would do that. Him I understand. He's a dog but you were supposed to be my friend."

The words struck out and lashed at Sarah's fragile mind-set and this prompted more tears. More vigorous and child like this time.

The blubbing began to die down and Anya suggested that Sarah take a moment to go and tidy herself up in the bathroom, which she did. Sat in that small bathroom dabbing away black residue from teary eyes Sarah allowed herself a moment to consider that maybe there was light at the end of tunnel. She wanted her friend back. To nearly lose her husband was one thing but a true friend that had been in the trenches with her and vice versa was a terrible loss.

Sarah made her way back in and without thinking sat back down where she had begun the conversation with Anya. Anya for her part hadn't moved. She was still patiently dangling one trainer off of her foot and swinging it back and forth with gentle motions of her foot.