Читать книгу The Scantilly Tales - Danielle Shoebottom - Страница 9

Wednesday

I’m running behind due to a late night when the doorbell rings. 7.15am. I dash down the stairs in my dressing gown, hair wet and loose. There is a beautiful familiarity to this scenario.

I sign, thank the courier and head inside. I read the card first.

All Wrapped-Up?

x

I savour the anticipation before opening the package, a square box with delicate satin ribbons. I want to know the sender’s identity, I do, but devouring the black-latticed fabric with my eyes, I cannot resist. My fingers stroke the polka dot cups and as soft as down, they yield to my touch. In my hands the ensemble glistens as light passes through the noir mesh.

Then the ultimate surprise – what I’d taken for straps are actually wraps, removable for play (or punishment). As designed, I wrap myself up and sigh as it envelops and lifts me. In the mirror, the V of the silken throat tie teases the eye down towards the circular rose-gold 'S' charm I adore.

While the sensible part of my brain thinks of wearing a high collar to work, the imaginative side blocks it with vivid dreams of log-cabins, snowy peaks, a rug and roaring wood-fire, someone’s hot skin pressed close… I shake my head. I need to get dressed.

“High collar,” I say out-loud. My brain argues, repeating, ‘all wrapped-up.’

Delighting in sensations of sin, I get ready while my mind turns to yesterday night. I went to a new bar where I told my friend Jess about the mystery gifts.

She’d said: “It must be someone you know well.”

“Why?” I asked.

Hiding behind her deep auburn bangs, she replied: “They know where you live; the time you leave for work and more importantly, what you like … It could be Jhal, you know.”

“Jhal?” I said confused. “I thought he was still abroad.”

“No, he got back last week.”

I raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment. Later, it went a bit surreal. Dancing close together in the dingy, humid air, she’d leant teasingly into me. A bit of a surprise but, tellingly, I didn’t back off. However, her rouge lips went to my ear:

“I know you very well too,” she whisper-shouted above the music, before giggling and high-heeling it to the bar.

I check the clock. Already late, I overindulge and take my time: past and future don’t matter - All Wrapped-Up is my present today.