Dance with the Devil

Ruthie felt excited, but vaguely queasy at the same time. She had packed the kids off to bed, made sure the sitter had everything she needed, and laid her false trail. The year was 1991 ... and it was way easier back then to keep prying eyes away from your secret business. Ruthie liked her secrets.

CONTROL

Growing up, her father had always tried to control who she saw, where she went and what she did, so as soon as she was old enough she became a adept liar and a skilled operator in the field of misdirection. If she had ever been found out.. she’d probably have been packed off to some kind of corrective boarding school, but she was never found out so it was all okay. It had given her a life long drive towards the “forbidden”. One that she mostly pushed down out of sight .. until something or someone made it worth her while dancing with that devil again.

LIFE CHOICE

Right now she was in her thirties and was in a marriage she regretted... well half regretted...the thing was it wasn’t bad enough to quit.. at least not yet, besides there were the kids to think about. Honestly... how did this become the system? Why did everyone buy into the system? Over 50% couldn’t deal with this throwback to medieval property control and a sizeable percentage just muddled through...Including herself. She hated it when her husband flirted .. but that’s all he did she was pretty sure. But she felt like crap every time he did... she’d actually prefer if he did worse ... but just stopped shoving her face in it. Love indeed! Brain chemistry mind control more like.

WHY NOT?

Anyway she felt almost vindicated in her plans.... she was going away for a dirty weekend that she’d dressed up as a “office team building” Boris was completely incompatible with her .... well not completely, they could hold some half decent conversations, usually a bit awkward ... but in one area the chemistry was off the charts.. in the bedroom, (or the lounge room, or the beach or the car ... anywhere really..). in that area..... they were a bloody perfect match.

PLAN

Ruthie was waiting to get a lift.. from Boris.. this meant he’d be driving right up to her house. She knew the neighbours would be peeking out from behind their net curtains... she lived in a rather proper suburb, so this felt like it was a chink in her perfect plan, but not really .. after all, he was a colleague..and what were they going to do, march up to Jeff and say “ooh, I saw your wife getting in a man’s car?” He ‘d say “Yeah, I know, Betsy, it’s her colleague.. they’ve got to go to this weekend team building retreat....”. So it’s all good then...

NERVES

Ruthie had freaked herself out even thinking about this hole in her plot, no matter how small it was it was a flaw, she hadn’t got away with all that she had in her life by dismissing or ignoring small flaws...

She realised her hands were trembling.. and getting a bit sweaty to be honest... they clamped more tightly around the brown paper bag she’d been nursing...

She had been pacing round the back garden for more than 15 minutes, he was late... oh God, what if he stood her up, how was she supposed to explain why she HADN’T gone anywhere...

HE’S HERE......!

The horn sounded imperatively, that must be him! She rounded the corner of the house to see her neighbour George blasting his ancient Ford’s horn at April the kid from number 6 who had just wavered off the pavement into his path. She hadn’t had that bike for 5 minutes, and already it was a death trap.

She wandered back to the backyard, she was thinking of Lucy, her daughter... she adored that child and could never bear the thought of her being hurt.. and Charlie, sweet Charlie.. her little man, her baby....

STRESS

Oh bloody hell! Where was he? Why did she DO this to herself?

A car door slammed in the street, and she lost her grip on the bag she was cuddling... there was an almighty smash ...glass flew everywhere and the back step was dripping with expensive red wine. It actually looked like an animal had been murdered on the doorstep.

The sitter, Laura, the daughter of one of her old school friends ... stuck her head out of the open upstairs window... “are you ok, Mrs Jack?” she shouted, way too loudly.

Ruthie attempted to slow her breathing.. taking deep ragged breaths in, out, in, out. God, where was he...?

OBSERVATION

He was standing a few feet away from her watching her fall apart. The car door slamming had been his. He’d padded softly round to her back yard and she wasn’t even aware he was there.

He continued to watch her anxiety riven face... as her brain ticked over.. how to clear up this mess? Why am I doing this? Where IS he?

DECISION

He saw she could not even feel he was standing there... so much for an energetic connection then.. surely she’d feel him? Boris didn’t care about married people messing about, if they wanted to be shitty, that was on them, besides he and Ruthie were just so compatible in that area, it had to be right...

Only watching her tie herself in knots.. not able to move from the spot .. he began to wonder. She STILL hadn’t noticed him. The back door swung open, and Laura was standing there, with a dustpan, brush and Charlie on her hip.

Boris dodged out of sight and made a snap decision. Flattening himself against the wall he stealthily edged away. She’d get over it. Work would be awkward for a while ... but they’d live.

Her mind was a chaotic mess, he could see it, and even if she couldn’t yet, her addiction to secrets and drama was only stopping her from seeing what she really had, and from having the difficult conversations she needed to have with Jeff.

NOT PLAYING

Boris decided he wasn’t going to help her dance with the devil this time.