Confessions of a Kinky Wife

When he came out, I couldn’t look at him, but I caught sight in the mirror of his smart dark trousers and white shirt. A wave of synthetic ocean freshness blasted my nostrils when he came closer and crouched down behind me, looking at my face in the mirror over my shoulder.

‘All ready?’ he whispered, putting his hands over my bare upper arms.

‘I don’t know,’ I whispered back. ‘Depends what I have to be ready for.’

‘Go and sit down on the edge of the bed,’ he said.

I obeyed without thinking, sinking my bottom down into the comfort of the duvet. He took a seat opposite on the swivel chair, which placed him quite a lot higher than me. Instantly he was in the superior position, leaning forward, hands on his knees, demanding my full attention.

‘Now then, Philippa,’ he said.

I could barely breathe. He had exactly that calm, authoritative manner he used with his suspects in the interview room – firm but fair, always likeable but never to be crossed.

I thought I might fall in love with him all over again, even though I was fidgeting at the end of the bed, horribly aware of the objects behind me. Objects that might very soon be making harsh contact with my bottom.

‘Can you tell me what you think I want to discuss with you this morning?’

I chewed on the

inside of my cheek.

‘I skipped lunch,’ I muttered, fighting an absurd urge to smile. Now I understood why naughty kids caught in their mischief tended to smirk and fidget while they were being reproved. I was doing exactly the same things, and I just couldn’t stop myself.

‘Is something funny?’

The smile died and I shook my head.

‘No, Philippa, you’re right. It isn’t funny at all. Your health and your well-being are serious matters. Aren’t they?’

‘I s’pose.’

‘Look up and speak up.’

Christ, he sounded quite fierce. I swallowed and met his eye, very unwillingly.

‘Yes,’ I admitted.

‘So why did you neglect them yesterday?’

‘I told you why. I forgot. I was busy.’

‘Sweetheart, we all have busy lives. You aren’t unique in that. You need to organise yourself better, don’t you?’

‘Maybe.’

‘Definitely. Look, I frequently spend my lunch hour running after stupid people who think they can outpace me. That’ll make you forget to eat. But I always make sure I take a bit of time to replenish my energy levels afterwards. I never go without a meal. Because it’s important. If I don’t keep myself in good condition, those thieves’ll be running rings around me, won’t they?’

I shrugged, but my face made it pretty clear that I accepted what he said.

‘Yes, they will,’ he agreed with himself. ‘And it’s just as important for you. You have to deal with out-of-control young people. It’s vital that you’re on good form yourself and in control. You can’t go fainting away when two of your lads decide to get into a knife fight. You’re letting them down and you’re letting yourself down. Aren’t you?’

Dan’s style was heavy on the rhetorical questioning, it seemed.

I turned down the corners of my mouth and let it droop. I hoped this was sufficient indication of penitence.

‘Well?’

Obviously it wasn’t.