This is the twenty-sixth part of a fiction serial, in 734 words.
Watching her gulp down the pie, Thomas realised that her desire for food had overcome any possible embarrassment about being naked in front of a stranger. Gillian worked the spoon around the plate like a competition eater, and devoured the whole thing in less than four minutes. Not knowing what else to say, she looked at the man and mumbled, “Thank you”. As he secured her free hand, she could feel herself trembling. “What if I need the toilet?”.
He smiled. “You get to use the toilet when I come and tell you that you can. Do you need it now?” She shook her head, and watched as he fastened the handcuffs. Plucking up courage, she spoke a little louder. “Are you going to kill me? What do you want from me?” Thomas picked up the plate and spoon, then stroked her head with his right hand. “Kill you? Why on earth would I do that? Besides, why would I make you dinner if I was going to kill you? Surely you would already be dead? Just relax, and let me look after you”.
Thomas took the plate and spoon downstairs, and washed them in the kitchen sink. As he suspected, she hadn’t screamed or called out, even though he had not replaced the ball gag. Turning the television to the BBC, he watched the evening news, while drinking another cup of tea.
Always best to savour the inevitable.
Before the local news that came after the main news started, he heard her calling out. “Hello! Can you come up please? I need the toilet”. She was bound to explore the boundaries. Even someone as inexperienced and inherently weak as her would have watched films and TV dramas, just as he had. He gave it a few minutes, then walked back up to the bedroom.
Showing the hunting knife, he made a short speech.
“For the time being, I will release you to go into the bathroom, and use the toilet. After that, there will be waterproof sheets in case you cannot hold it, and a commode next to the bed for you to use. For tonight, I am going to release you, but you have to have the gag back on, and I will be accompanying you to the toilet. If you try to run away, or fight me, this knife will put an end to you. Understood?” Gillian nodded feverishly.
She really needed to pee.
He was surprisingly gentle as he replaced the gag. Then he freed her from the bed and followed her as she walked to the bathroom. When he walked in behind her, she shook her head vigorously until he removed the gag again. “I don’t think I can go with you watching. It’s bad enough having no clothes on. Nobody has ever seen me like this, not even my mum. Not since I was old enough to know better, anyway”. His expression was like stone.
“You go, or you don’t go. Up to you, but I am staying here. If you don’t really need the toilet, I can take you back to the bedroom”. Gillian sat on the toilet and looked at her feet. After a while, she managed to pee. The man knew that she had finished, and pulled her up by her arm, then flushed the toilet. “Okay, gag back on, and back to bed. You better not think about giving me any trouble, Gillian”.
He had used her name. How did he know that? Her mind was racing as he led her back to the bedroom.
After securing her back onto the bed, Thomas put his mouth close to her ear. “I will be back to see you later, just lie quietly, and don’t worry. I am definitely not going to kill you. I might even be in love with you. Think about that, while I am downstairs”.
When he had gone, Gillian thought about what he had said. She had never so much as kissed a man, but here was a good-looking man telling her he might be in love with her. But where had he come from? And why was he attracted to her when she thought she was fat and ugly?
It took her over an hour to put the pieces together, in her panicked mind. The Belgian truffles. Knowing her address. It could only be one thing.
That man was Charlotte.