High Life: Alice Makes a Change Pt. 07

[Author's note: Alice is married to James, a professional football player who has found himself at a loose end after retiring from the sport. After attending a charity auction in which she was outbid for her own husband, Alice and James have been blackmailed into service by Jodie and her upper-echelon friends. They have no choice but to do her bidding, letting Jodie pimp James out to clients, otherwise she will release the videos she took.]

---

OBEDIENCE TRAINING

I didn't tell James where I was going, which felt wrong. I slipped out of the house on the pretext of going shopping, but my bag was stuffed with lycra. I took the car and drove for half an hour, going across the city to a car park in front of a strip mall. There was a Harbinger's Home and Garden store, and next to it a coffee shop. I grabbed my bag and my phone and got out of the car.

I'd been doing some more digging, keeping tabs on Davis. Kikster had seemed to understand my interest in him, pushing his posts into my feed, showing me his life. His friends, and he seemed to have a lot, called him Davey, showering my Kikster feed with posts about nights out or weekends away, detailing an active social life and one thing that was of particular interest to me.

Time and time again, the same girl kept popping up, the owner of the gym I was now standing in front of. I hadn't said anything to James because he wouldn't have been swayed by female intuition, but the photos told me that the girl was important. I just had a feeling.

I pushed through the doors of the gym, finding a young man behind the reception desk.

"Hi, I'm booked in for an introduction," I told him, "Alice."

"Hi Alice, I'm Jaden. No problem, let me just get someone to help."

I glanced at his name badge, noting the 'Manager' tag.

"You're the manager? Do you run the gym? I heard...."

Jaden shook his head, distracted by the booking calendar on the screen.

"No, it's Rosa's gym."

"Sorry, I heard it was a husband-and-wife team, I just saw your name badge and assumed."

For a moment, Jaden looked up from the screen at me, then he resumed typing.

"She set the gym up with her husband, Aidan, but he's, uh, on leave."

Sometimes you just have to trust your gut. I pressed a little further, extemporising on the spot.

"I'd been recommended the gym, that Aidan was good. Is he available when he gets back?"

"I'm, uh, he's not available, sorry."

I could see that Jaden was uncomfortable. I let the silence lengthen.

"He's on an extended break from the business," Jaden volunteered, "But let me just get someone else to cover here and I can take you through the introduction."

"I should get changed," I said.

"Sure, just over there."

I went into the changing rooms and pulled on my exercise gear. By the time I was ready, Jaden was standing in the middle of the floor waiting for me. He gave me a tour of the gym, showing me the machines, the spin studio, the training mats. I was able to glean a few more details out of him, but Jaden remained tight-lipped on the subject of his boss and her relationships. But one thing became clear: the petite, toned, dark-haired woman conducting the spin class, the one taking a squad of women through their places, was the same woman I'd seen in the photos. Her name was Rosa, and her husband was nowhere to be found.

Jaden took me through a set of assessments. He was polite and professional, but my attention kept drifting back to the spin class in the other room.

"Looks intense," I observed.

"Yeah, they go hard. Gets results though. Are you interested?"

"I might be."

"Well, if you wait a few minutes, you can talk to Rosa about it. They're just finishing up."

I nodded.

"Anyway, let me get the plan entered into the system, and you can decide."

"Thanks," I replied, "I appreciate it."

Jaden left me, and I wandered up to the doorway of the spin studio, listening to the music reach its crescendo. Rosa was working her group hard, and I watched them sweating and straining to reach the end of the song. When the music finished, Rosa clicked back a gear, sitting upright, her hands on her hips, letting her legs spin.

"Good work, spin it out, let's drop the rate. Grab some water."

The class was a mix, but mostly women like myself, probably mothers wanting to stay in shape, skin gleaming, activewear dampened with sweat. At last, Rosa called a halt and one by one, the women dismounted the cycles. She came directly over to me.

"Hi," she said, "I'm Rosa. You looking at the class?"

"Yes, though it looks like a lot of work."

Rosa smiled, replying, "It is. But it's also worth it. Good cardio. What are you looking for?"

"I'm not sure," I lied, "I just came for an intro session."

"Ah, good. Anything I can help with?"

I looked at her for a moment, suddenly unsure of my next move. I needed to ask about Davis, but I had no way to bring him up in conversation. I looked over her shoulder at the women now gathering between the spin cycles, and suddenly all thought of quizzing Rosa on her relationships blanked from my mind.

"Mix of ages," I observed.

It was all I could get out of my mouth, as my skin prickled. Rosa followed my gaze, turning to watch the women as they picked up their bags and sipped water from bottles.

"Yeah, they're a good group. Quite social."

I barely heard the words. My eyes were fixed on a pair of women standing slightly to one side. The shorter one was perhaps a year or two older than me, with expensively styled blonde hair in a loose ponytail that reached down below her shoulders. The other woman was the centre of my attention though: taller, slimmer, older, long blonde hair threaded through with silver. Then I saw the eyes: ice blue, her attention settling on me for a moment before flicking back to her friend.

"I, uh," I stammered, "I might have a think about it."

"Sure," Rosa replied, "Just let us know at the desk if you want to join a session."

She smiled at me, and I returned her gesture, forcing my mouth into a smile too. Rosa turned and headed back over to the reception desk and her class began to file past me. The older woman was last, murmuring something into the ear of her companion. Her gaze locked on me as she approached.

"Hello," she said, "New face."

It was her, I was absolutely certain, the woman from the photo. She had been standing on the right-hand side of the shot, of all five people standing by the graveside, the only one looking up into the camera. The face that I'd studied endlessly over the past few weeks was now directly in front of me: her name was Cynthia.

"Anything I can help with?" she asked.

I found that I couldn't speak. An electric shiver passed through me, staring into those merciless pale blue eyes.

"Ah," she said, "So you know who I am?"

I nodded.

"And there's something I can help you with."

It was a statement, rather than a question. I nodded.

"Shall we step outside?" Cynthia asked.

"Okay."

She made her way to the front doors and I found myself following her, as if mesmerised. I'd messed up, bad. I knew that I needed to get away from this woman, that I simply couldn't afford for her to relay anything back to Jodie. I felt a cold hand grip my guts and squeeze. There was no way to escape, the only exit was the way we were going and all I could do was follow behind, closer and closer to my doom.

Cynthia stopped outside, in the sunlight, turning to appraise me as I emerged from the gym.

"So," she began, "Let's get one thing straight. I don't appreciate being stalked, not on my personal time. I understand that this is important to you, but turning up to the gym is inappropriate."

I stared back at her blankly.

"Am I understood?" she continued, "I'm happy to talk in the club, but not randomly on the street."

"The club?" I echoed.

Cynthia's eyes clouded, her expression changing.

"Yes, the club. That's why, isn't it?"

"I'm sorry, I don't know what you're talking about."

The piercing blue eyes closed, and I felt the sudden immense relief of not being caught in the baleful glare of her gaze. She seemed to relax slightly, but my terror increased.

"So, this isn't about the club? You aren't looking for... uh, okay. Let's backtrack. I think I made an assumption."

Her eyes fixed on me again, and she said, "What do you want to ask me?"

"Nothing," I blurted, feeling the panic bubbling up, "Look, I just came to check out the gym. I didn't mean to, look, this was an accident. Please, tell Jodie that."

Cynthia reacted immediately, stiffening, her eyes hard as marbles. I felt my hands starting to shake. She reached out to me and I flinched away, surprised to feel her hand settle lightly onto my shoulder. She looked away, and I noticed her companion watching from a distance.

"Cassidy," she called out, "I may need a moment. Do you want to go on ahead?"

"Okay," the other woman called, "Flat white?"

"Real milk, please."

The other woman nodded and began to walk in the direction of the coffee shop, leaving me standing alone with Cynthia, her hand still on my shoulder.

"First," she said, "You know who I am but I don't know you. Or would you rather not give your name?"

"So you don't know who I am?" I asked, feeling lost.

"To be honest, I have no idea who you are. What I do know is that you mentioned Jodie and you appear to be frankly terrified."

Cynthia led me to a low wall and motioned for me to sit down with her.

"What's Jodie done?" she asked.

"I, uh, I can't say."

"Then I'll assume."

She glanced down at my hand.

"Your husband?"

"Yes."

"You too?"

"Yes."

Cynthia turned away, resting her hand lightly on mine.

"I can't help you," she murmured, the corners of her mouth turning down.

I sagged, staring down at my feet.

"No-one can help us," I confessed.

"I wish I could. She's a very nasty piece of work."

"So, you know her?"

Cynthia laughed, but it was hard, rasping, "Oh, I know her. We're intimately acquainted. Let's just say I've seen the drama up close and personal."

"You're not...?"

"Friends? Oh, no, not at all. I keep very much in my lane and she keeps in hers. But, how did you find me?"

"I can't say."

"Can't or won't? Are you afraid I'm going to do something?"

I looked at her, confessing, "Yes, very much."

"Let me disabuse you of that notion, whoever you are. Whatever she's done to you, you have my deepest sympathy, but I'm in no way on her side. How did you find me?"

I hesitated, then got out my phone. I showed her the photo, of the five of them at the graveside.

"Richard's funeral. Oh, this was years ago."

"You're standing with them."

"Yes. It was a mark of respect. Ironically, that was probably the last proper conversation I had with her. Oh look, there's Delilah, and Andrew."

Cynthia chuckled.

"Oh, they wouldn't have liked that, not at all. Everyone caught on camera together like that. Jodie would have been furious."

"So, you know them all."

"Yes. We go back a long way. But, things change."

Again, I had an intuition.

"Alice," I told her, "My name's Alice. My husband is James. I need help. We need help. We're trapped."

Cynthia's attention remained fixed on the photo for a long while as I waited for her response. Eventually, she handed the phone back to me, shaking her head sadly.

"I'm sorry Alice, I can't," she confessed.

"Why?"

"You have to understand. It would be war."

---

I got a message from Jodie the next day, asking to meet. The timing was suspicious, but I had no reason to suspect that Cynthia had given me away. I couldn't see how Jodie could have found out about my gym visit. Still, I made my way to the park with a feeling of trepidation.

Jodie was on a bench underneath the trees, looking at her phone. She seemed not to notice me until I'd come to a halt directly in front of her.

"Alice, please, have a seat," she said, without looking up.

I sat next to her, trying to read between the lines, as she put her phone away and turned her attention to me.

"How've you been?" she asked, smiling pleasantly.

"Okay," I replied.

"Seems you've been making an impact. We're getting glowing reviews."

"Good."

"A couple of requests for a repeat booking. It seems everyone loves James. Isn't that nice?"

I ignored the little barb, replying, "So, I guess you'll let us know where and when."

"Certainly, Alice. I must say, you seem to have settled into your role much quicker than I would have expected. Perhaps you're enjoying yourself, do you think?"

She looked at me hopefully.

"Maybe just a little bit?" she prompted.

"I'm happy that they're happy."

"But, you do enjoy it though, don't you Alice? Watching your husband having sex with all those women."

I sat up straighter, but Jodie seemed to see straight through it.

"You can admit it. It's perfectly fine. I imagine it's quite a sight, seeing James fucking other people right in front of you. Does it give you a little tingle?"

The way that she looked at me as she said the words triggered something deep within me, and unbidden, I began to relive the feelings of envy and powerlessness that surfaced each time I watched my husband with another woman, and Jodie was right: there was a little tingle deep in my core, remembering him pistoning into the willing flesh of another woman. I tried to supress the feeling, but I could tell from Jodie's smile that she'd already seen it in my reaction.

"Sitting there, just watching, while he fucks them. Does it get you a little heated?"

"What do you want, Jodie?" I snapped.

I regretted it, instantly. I'd shown Jodie that she'd gotten close to the mark, revealing myself to her. Her face was beaming.

"Yes, we were very pleased. It really looked like we were hitting our stride with you."

Jodie's use of the past tense sent a little shiver through me, as her smile faded. I didn't respond.

"Just refresh my memory though, did we have a little talk not long ago?"

"Which talk?" I asked, warily.

"One about you not stepping out of line."

"I don't know what you mean."

"Ah," Jodie tutted, "You see, this is the problem with amateurs. They all think they're Sherlock Holmes, right up until the point that they find out they're just roadkill. Anything you want to say?"

I remained silent.

"No? Really? It's going to be so much worse for you if you don't confess."

"I have nothing to confess," I replied, keeping my expression neutral.

"Oh Alice, that's really not true, is it? Tell you what, I was hoping you weren't going to confess. I really wanted a reason to go to town on you. Thank you."

"I think I'm leaving," I told her, but before I could get up, Jodie had wrapped her fingers around my wrist.

"That's the problem with you Alice, right there. Always thinking for yourself. You're not going anywhere. Stay."

"Let go of me."

Jodie ignored me.

"Trying to embarrass me at the gallery earned you both a night with four very demanding women. How much worse do I need to make it after I find out that you're sniffing around a gym, asking questions?"

She fixed me with a haughty expression, brimming with contempt.

"I mean, using your own name when you booked a session. Who does that Alice? A person of below average intelligence, surely?"

My heart raced, and I tried to supress the emotion mercilessly, but Jodie detected my reaction and I knew I'd lost. How had she found out about the booking? Unless....

"The poor girl's been struggling, really struggling, since her husband walked out and left the entire thing to her to manage on her own. She was more than grateful to let Davis supply some help. He's become quite hands-on with the business. Imagine his surprise when he went through the bookings."

"I just went to look."

Jodie snorted, cutting me off with, "Oh, don't, please. It's clear across the city from you. You're insulting me now."

Jodie leaned in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial murmur as she asked, "Did James put you up to it?"

"No," I hissed, "He has no idea I went. Leave him out of this."

"Oh, now that's an idea. How about, I do leave him out of this like you appear to have, going behind his back like that, keeping secrets."

She patted my hand. It took all my determination not to pull away.

"So I'll tell you what, how about we keep the next part secret too? Would you like that? Are you going to be a big girl and take your punishment on your own?" she asked, "Or should James share it with you?"

"Leave my husband out of this," I rasped.

Jodie paused, surveying me. She seemed to reach a decision.

"Okay, then I will. I'll even make you a promise, Alice. If you take it on the chin, I'm prepared to move past all this, your dues would be paid and we can pick up from where we left off."

"Or?"

"Or I destroy your marriage. Would you like that instead? I could pick it apart, strand by strand. I'd even have fun doing it. Your call."

I glared at her, unable to work out a proper response, my brain in turmoil.

"Saturday night, eight o'clock at Delilah's place. You don't have to tell James. Say it's, oh, what is it that you awful people do? Tell him it's Book Club."

She patted my hand again and then rose to her feet.

"You don't need to dress up. Come as you are, the dowdier the better."

Jodie began to walk away, leaving me in stunned silence on the bench.

"Don't be late," she called over her shoulder, "It's going to be bad already. You don't want to make it any worse, trust me."

---

I reached Delilah's house with time to spare. James had said he had a night out booked with the boys, which left me scrambling to come up with cover for my last-minute change of plans. I managed to arrange sleepovers for the boys, dropping them off with their friends, making conversation with their mothers, and all the while checking the time to make sure I wasn't late. There had been a strange look in my husband's eyes too, a question that he didn't ask. I didn't want to think about that.

I walked up to the front door and rang the bell, bracing myself. I knew that it was going to be awful, that Jodie would be putting me through the wringer. The fact that I was at Delilah's house hinted that other people would probably be involved. The door opened.

I was greeted by a young woman, petite and slim, slightly shorter than me, vaguely familiar. She didn't smile.

"Come in," she said.

"I'm Alice," I replied.

"I know. I'm Willow."

Her name triggered a memory, of a young woman and a young man being auctioned off at the charity event, standing nervously on stage while attendees outbid each other for their services. It was the point that everything had gone wrong, when James stood up afterwards, putting himself up for the bidding, when Delilah bought his services. Jodie had just nodded into the crowd that night, and Willow had stepped up onto the stage. In hindsight, it was as if Willow was already firmly under Jodie's control, that it had all been prearranged.

"What are we doing tonight?" I asked, following along behind her.

There was the sound of music from the back of the house, but Willow directed me into a room off the side of the hallway instead.

"Wait here."

Willow left, and I looked around, trying to get a hint of what was in store for me. My heart was beating fast, a slow, oozing dread settling in my tummy. Willow's aloof demeanour had done nothing to calm my nerves.

"Alice, here at last."

I turned back to the door. Jodie strode into the room dressed elegantly in eveningwear, her make-up immaculate, with Willow close behind.

"I'm on time, as instructed," I retorted, unnerved by her sudden appearance.

"Oh, that sounds a little passive-aggressive, Alice. Let's deal with that straight away."

She crossed over to a set of drawers, pulling out a small item, shiny and black with straps. She held it up so I could see as she approached me.