O-A Little Later Ch. 02

I made her stop at this point, so I could replace the reel on the recorder. It took a few minutes to do this, I remembered to label the reel as I put it in the envelope, but was desperate to hear the next stage of her story. The light from the window was fading gently as evening advanced.

O went to add wood to the fire from a coffer beside the hearth. It burnt cleanly, with strong heat and little smoke. Her face was pink from the warmth as she turned back to me. Her eyes briefly met mine, then dropped. The pinkness deepened more. I sensed it was time to alter the interview.

Before she could sit in her chair again I took a cushion and laid it on the floor in front of me, I gestured for her to kneel on it. She did so immediately, falling with seeming gratitude to kneel with her knees apart and her hands clasped behind her. Her eyes fixed on the floor in front of her, near my feet.

I went to the mantelpiece and lit the candles in the silver candlestick there. The story was not to continue under electric light, too harshly bright for such a dark romance. To my mind Desclos' story was bathed in the warm glow of candlelight. Soon the candelabra gave more light than the window.

"So, O you were naked, bleeding and cast out of Eric's house. How did you cope?" My voice was strange to me after hearing her for so long. She breathed more deeply as she remembered that time.

"Oui, Monsieur, I was a poor wretch, it was freezing, before dawn in the early spring in Paris. I fed my daughter, and wept. My pride in bearing Sir Stephen a child was ebbing as the misery of my state took hold of me. I must have slept for a time, for when I woke I had a blanket around me. I think Eric's housekeeper must have brought it, there were croissants and a mug of coffee beside me as well." Tears glistened on her cheek and she trembled slightly. "I think we might have died without her help. She was risking her job to help us- yet I never knew her name or what became of her." She shifted slightly on the cushion, I saw her knees spread a little wider, to the limit allowed by her skirt. A question began to form in my mind, but I pushed it back, too soon for that, yet.

She began again, in a firmer voice. "While my own life only mattered in as much as I served another with it, my daughter was my new work. To protect her and raise her was my mission. I drank the coffee and ate, while I tried to think of a plan. The blanket would allow me to go about the street like a clocharde. I forced myself to my feet and walked to the gate. The bleeding had stopped, though my legs were filthy with blood and fluid from the birth and soil from the garden. I hoped the blanket would cover enough to keep me from the attention of the flics". The Parisian gendarmes were notorious for their evil treatment of the underclass of street dwellers.

"I was very weak from the labour and misery I had earned myself. I had had no real idea of how Eric would react to the birth, so had prepared for the worst. In the event, he had behaved both better and worse than I might have expected. His rejection of me was a mark of the betrayal he felt. I knew he had been feeling love and tenderness toward me before the birth, only to have me reject him for Sir Stephen yet again."

I was surprised to see a small wry smile play on her lips at this, and asked her why. "As I limped on the gravel drive to the avenue and turned toward the river, a red Alfa Romeo saloon came to a stop beside me. The door swung open and Anne-Marie stepped out. She was carrying a large army style overcoat which she wrapped around me, and pushed me onto the back seat. 'So this is the child you have produced for him? I can see why Eric threw you out, though why he would imagine it could be his is beyond me. Let us get you cleaned up and warm, then we will check her health, though she looks sound enough'. She held my daughter who was making small mewing noises and moving a little. I took her back and wrapped her in my blanket against my breast. It must have been Eric who called Anne-Marie, I decided later. That morning I was only grateful for a caring face and to ride in a car." The interview was taking turns I had never expected. This woman who had inhabited my dreams for so many years had depths and experiences that had never occurred to my imagination.

"I was put to bed in Anne-Marie's house at Samois, but in a part that I had never seen before when I had been there for my training and marks. She had a small clinic behind another door from the street, where women came for treatment that was discreet and safe. I think the room she put me in was attached to that, for those that needed to stay following their surgery. It had less decoration and was the territory of a short-haired stern woman in a pale dress, who I was told to call Irene.

"Anne-Marie checked my daughter thoroughly and pronounced her healthy. She and Irene then put me on an examination table. They inspected me carefully and commented to one another on my body as if I was not there, or as if it did not concern me, which may have been closer to their view of my position. I was so utterly enslaved as to cease to have any privacy or ability to say no to my handling or treatment by them, or indeed anyone else.

"A steel speculum was inserted within my sex and both peered within at length. No lasting damage was seen. Irene stroked my brand at length, running her fingertip through the grooves either side of my rear. She seemed fascinated to see the extent of my submission. To my surprise they each took a deep suck on my breast, and pronounced my milk to be satisfactory. They then kissed each other passionately across my naked flesh.

"Anne-Marie, after cleaning my sex thoroughly with swabs and iodine, stitched the torn flesh where Eric had ripped my irons from me. The bleeding had stopped, but it was an ugly wound that could infect if not treated. Irene handed Anne-Marie the sutures and swabs in a manner that spoke of long experience. The pain was intense, yet I had so little energy that my cries were breathless and hoarse. I expected no mercy, and was given none. Anne-Marie's hands were swift and sure, I had faith and comfort in her handling. To demur or complain never occurred to me.

"Irene gave me food and drink, with medicine, then returned me and the girl to my bed. As the two walked off down the corridor, they discussed my situation, my recovery, and how to put me to use. I longed to ask what she knew of Sir Stephen, if he was in France or knew of the child. I did not dare to call out to them". She was weeping silently again, which I found odd.

"Surely," I spoke dismissively," you must have known that Sir Stephen had sold you to Eric when he left France the year before- he cared nothing for your welfare or even survival, as he knew what a brute Eric was to you. Why would you think he would be interested in the fact you had given birth to a child?"

She drew herself a little straighter on her cushion, and spoke with certainty. "He loved me, even if he could not keep me himself, he provided for me in his way. I am his slave, and always will be. My child is his also, as the child of a slave has always become the property of her owner. If nothing more, she is my gift to him."

The second reel on the Nagra was running out. It was fully dark outside and time for me to leave her. I told her I would return earlier the next day, to get to the next phase of her life story. The book that would come from her words would be stunning.

I packed my gear, she watched me with an unreadable expression, never meeting my eye. She stood by the open door, to farewell me formally.

As I went down the stair, a lively and gorgeous young woman came briskly up, her black hair flowing down her back, and I heard her cheerful "Salud, Maman!" She went in at the same door.

My mind worked overtime as I went back to the pension.