*
Eve had been out riding again, Franco approached her on her way back to the house while nobody was in earshot,
“Mistress…” He had taken the opportunity to speak candidly to her, “...We should quit this place, we should leave while we still can!”
“Why?” She demanded simply as they approached the house. Franco stepped in front of her, forcing her to stop. It was a liberty he had seldom taken recently, she flared up instantly, raising her arms to push him out of the way, Franco would not be moved, he gripped her arms tightly and forced them down to her sides. She was livid,
“That's the second time I've been manhandled in the last twelve hours...” She hissed menacingly, “...Get away from me!” She screamed at him and punched him hard in the face. He took the blow and stood like a rock. She hit him again, splitting his lip.
“Please listen.” His eyes pleaded. His face told her that she could do anything to him but that he absolutely would not move until he'd been heard. She regretted hitting him.
“Very well Franco, I will listen, but not out here. I'm hot and sweaty, come with me to my room. I want to find out what’s gotten in to you!” She marched ahead of him adding,
“And I warn you! Don't ever lay hands on me like that again!” She of course had to have the last word.
Upstairs in her rooms, Franco waited while she showered. She had stripped shamelessly in front of him, “Was it just a tease? Or?-” He wondered. He had turned his back quickly enough anyway, not wishing to be reminded of something he had once had but could never have again.
Eve strolled into the room wearing a short, Japanese style, dressing gown,
“Now I feel much better!” Franco stood at the window waiting patiently as always. She spoke to his back,
“I'm sorry I hit you, come here let me have a look at it.” They moved together at the centre of the room, she tenderly pulled down his lip to inspect the damage,
“Hmm, you've had worse, many times, I think you'll live! Now tell me why we should leave here so urgently.” Franco looked pained,
“It will be difficult to explain, Mistress. Most of my reasons are not concrete, just intuition.”
“I trust your intuition, you know that.” She flopped down on to her bed as she spoke, Franco had remained standing, pacing back and forth.
“Firstly, Mistress, I know you are unhappy here. You have been for some time. Cairo is also deeply unhappy, although she probably doesn't know the full extent of it, she needs to be with other people her own age. It is not healthy for her here. But there is more to it than that, I'm afraid of what that madman in the cellar...” He paused, pointing downwards for emphasis, “...and his experiments might bring. He could bring ruin to us all...” He waited for a moment, then continued as if he’d at last come to the point, “...And I'm also afraid of Von Vohburg and his friends, somehow I feel certain that they will come here to destroy you...” He stared at the carpet, adding, “...And I'm so afraid that this time I may not be able to stop them, I am...” He clearly hated to say it, “...getting old.” With a nod Eve encouraged him to continue,
“You must not rely on that whelp, Bright, to help you, he is...” Franco struggled for the words and settled for, “...a no-good son-of-a-bitch!...” Eve stifled a snort as he continued, “...Let us go to the continent, Spain perhaps? There I might be able to find someone to replace me, someone who would be devoted to you.” He trailed off not knowing if she'd been listening or not, feeling ashamed for admitting his fear and weakness. But Eve had been listening carefully, and she saw the sense in his words, she would be sad to lose him but had always known it would happen some day. She replied almost tenderly,
“Thank you dear Franco, my world will be an emptier place without you, I hope you always remember that...” She flashed a smile that could melt lead, “...And yes I agree with you, we shall leave this place, and, now that the decision is made, the sooner the better. Go find Cairo, tell her we are leaving tomorrow. Tell her to pack a bag, just one mind! Well go on, don’t just stand there grinning, hurry up old man!”
“Yes Mistress. And thank you!” Franco fled the room feeling taller and stronger than he had for a long time.
“And as for me...” Eve spoke to herself in her empty bedroom, “…I packed my bag months ago.”
The house in the Countryside
Mai was left watching television in the guest room while Sir Clive took Rita down to the laboratory. At the sight of the white tiled walls and steel furniture Rita became quite nervous, Sir Clive calmed her down with a smile and a drink that contained a heavy sedative. She was shortly reclining on Sir Clive’s purpose made adjustable divan. He had been lusting for her since he'd bought her the previous evening and lost no time in tearing off her clothes the Bangkok Chappie had not lied, her skin was flawless and her tiny body exquisite. He abused it in every way he could imagine until he was satisfied. And then eventually the experiment could begin.
Rita hardly knew what was happening to her, she suffered it all in a dream-like, no, a nightmare-like trance.
“It's all to do with the brain.” Sir Clive’s own mind was way past the point of no return, he was clinically insane, completely mad. He had lost all track of time and it was early evening before the experiment began, on a large flip chart he'd written down his latest demented theory in large block-capitals:
IMMORTALITY CAN BE ACHIEVED BY THE REGULAR
INGESTION Of LIVING HUMAN BRAIN MATTER, THIS WOULD
ARREST, AND LIKELY REVERSE, THE NORMAL
AGEING PROCESS
The crackpot theory made no mention of how or why it would achieve this, his unbalanced mind simply presumed it would work.
He moved the sedated Rita onto the operating table securing her feet, arms and middle with straps to prevent her moving, then he tilted the whole table at a 45 degree angle with her feet nearly touching the floor, that left her head at a convenient height for him to work on.
Shaving her head and letting her long silky black hair fall to the floor aroused the lust in him once again, forcing him to postpone the experiment for another few minutes more. It was the need to use the toilet that finally alerted Sir Clive to the passage of time, having been in the laboratory for several hours.
Eventually he realised that he was exhausted, hungry and having difficulty in focusing his eyes. And so it was with reluctance that he concluded the experiment would not be able to continue until the next morning.
He released the girl from the operating table and lifted her back on to the divan, covering her with a sheet. Should she wake up before morning there was a little toilet in the laboratory that she could use, so without even slight pangs of conscience he locked her in there for the night.
On his way upstairs he called in to the kitchen ordering the cook to send some food up to his room, he was tired and needed an early night. When he got up to his suite, Mai, his other little purchase, was still watching television, she smiled nervously and looked beyond him to see if Rita was there, Sir Clive spoke to her but she obviously didn't understand many words of English.
“We're going to have something to eat and drink, then I'm going to have your virginity. Okay?” She recognised the word ‘Okay’ and smiled, Sir Clive smiled too.