Something about her made it seem okay though. It felt safe with her. So many things felt different. She wasn’t just another submissive. She was the only sub I truly felt something for. I wanted to protect her, I wanted to make her happy. I cared as much about her pleasure as my own. I didn’t just want to humiliate her. Maybe I was changing. Or maybe she’d changed me. If I’d known the trouble that was coming, I might not have been so happy about the contract, or about her.
But, of course, at that moment, I had no idea of what was about to happen to us both, of how close we came to losing each other when we’d barely begun to get to know how good life could be for the two of us together.
TWENTY-FOUR
DONNA
It felt like a long time since I’d been in the theatre. A lot had happened since I’d first suggested I could get the consent for the play. Would I have gone up to George Atherton’s house if I’d known what it would lead to? That question played on my mind as I walked in and found them all eagerly waiting for me.
“Welcome back,” Erica said, patting the empty seat next to hers. “Joshua tells us you have secured permission for us to perform About Last Night. Is that right?”
“It is,” I said, waving the consent form. “Signed by the man himself.”
She took it from me. “I don’t know how you did it but I take my hat off to you. Well done, Donna.”
“A round of applause for our heroine,” Nigel said. “Bravo, Donna.”
I took my seat, feeling sheepish as they applauded me. If they only knew what it had taken to get the permission, I doubted they’d have been as happy to laud me as their new Queen. Only Joshua wasn’t clapping. He was looking at me angrily, clearly not yet forgiving me for rejecting him when he’d come to my house.
“We can start rehearsing at once. Henry, you work on the posters, get a date confirmed for the opening night.” She continued reeling off a list of things they needed to do but I zoned out for a while, only tuning back in when I heard my name.
“Sorry,” I said, sitting up straight. “I missed that.”
“I asked if you wanted the lead.”
“Me? Really?”
“You got the permission, I think it’s only fair that you play the lead. Shall we give it a read through?”
“But you don’t even know if I can act.”
“We’ll see how you get on during the read through, won’t we?”
“Hang on,” Henry said. “What about the ropework?”
“What about it?”
“Don’t you think you should warn her?”
“Oh, right, yes. Look, Donna, if you take on the part, you will need to be tied up for part of act three. It’s sort of the climax. Hang on, I better give you a summary. Oh, how best to do it. Henry, you’re better at this than me. Why don’t you tell her?”
“Fine,” Henry sighed. “Picture A Dolls House mixed with Fifty Shades of Grey and you’re on the right lines.”
“What, Nora comes back with rope and it all ends spankily ever after?”
“Not quite. In Act One, Maria, that’s you, is trapped in a dull marriage. She gets a mysterious invite to a club. At the same time a dinner party is being planned at home. That’s act one done.”
“That’s it?”
“Well, there’s a bit more to it than that but you get the gist. In act two, she goes to the club and learns about sexual freedom and liberation. Remember, it was written in the nineties. Hypocolour tee-shirts optional and all that. Anyway, she bumps into her husband, shock horror.”
“Goodness.”
“Exactly. So in act three, she gets dragged home by him, tied up and hidden away as the dinner guests arrive. Afterwards he goes to her but the big climax is the rope was too tight and she’s died. Cue floods of tears in the audience and Equity membership cards for us all.”
“Wow. That’s not quite what I was expecting.”
“The important thing is that the rope is tied properly. You’re on stage throughout so you can’t move, you have to stay still, slowly dying.”
“Just don’t make it too realistic,” Nigel said, pulling a pretend noose around his neck.
“Nigel!” Erica said. “You’ll frighten her off.”
“It’s fine,” I said, smiling. “I’m sure we’ll be all right.”
“Why doesn’t she take some home and practise?” Joshua said, his voice cold. “Get used to the feel of it.”
“That’s not a bad idea,” Erica replied. “How do you feel about that, Donna?”
“I guess it couldn’t hurt.”