An Innocent Affair

XX

"I am living in hell from one day to the next. But there is nothing I can do to escape. I don't know where I would go if I did. I feel utterly powerless, and that feeling is my prision. I entered of my own free will, I locked the door, and I threw away the key." Haruki Murakami

----

TW: DV

XX.

Cressie had dreamed of the sea again the night before. It was the same dream she'd had on many occasions. It began with the feeling of water around her ankles, the feeling she had created in her mind from when she stood in bathtubs. She could feel the cool breeze against her skin, her hair whipping around her face uncontrollably. And the sounds. She could hear the sounds the ocean made ever so clearly. The sounds were ones she had collected from pressing her ear to the conch shell that she had kept hidden safely in her trunk.

The dream usually came after she had listened to the waves in the conch shell. And she usually listened to the waves when she really needed them.

And as time went on, Cressie found that she relied upon that beautiful shell more and more. Because when Cressie dreamed of the sea, her mind could always find the pair of beautiful ocean eyes in her memories.

When Cressie awoke, she was shocked to find that she had fallen asleep with the conch shell beside her. The shock alone was enough to get her to launch out of bed and quickly stow it away in her trunk underneath several layers of her unmentionables. Cressie had learned that it was not safe to seemingly possess anything of value.

Cressie quickly pulled on her robe and climbed back into bed just as the door was opened to her room by her lady's maid, Imelda Wrigley. Imelda carried with her a breakfast tray and Cressie's mail.

"Good morning, Mrs Delaney," Imelda greeted.

"Good morning, Wrigley," she replied carefully. Imelda placed Cressie's tray down in front of her on the bed and took a step backward, surveying the room, before she went to open the drapes.

Cressie surveyed her tray to find a selection of eggs, ham, fruit, and tea. Her mail was opened. It always was.

Her only correspondence came from her mother. Mrs Martin now lived in Suffolk in a small cottage paid for by Mr Delaney's family. By all reports she lived comfortably and wanted for nothing.

Cressie had not seen her in five years.

She chose the letter first, which seemed to prick Imelda's interest. "The eggs first, ma'am," she reminded her.

Cressie put down the letter and picked up the teaspoon before using it to crack the shell of her first egg. She hated eggs. Cressie had not always. But she hated them now.

Before digging into the egg, she reached for the small, silver dish of salt which had been provided.

"Just a pinch, remember, ma'am?"

With her thumb and forefinger, Cressie collected a pinch of salt and sprinkled it onto her egg, leaving the rest behind.

Once Cressie would have facetiously asked her maid if she would have liked to spoon feed her like an infant. In fact, she had asked her first maid that when these rules were first introduced. That maid hadn't lasted. Imelda had. Imelda liked the rules. And so, Everett liked Imelda.

Cressie didn't fight anymore. She couldn't. Fighting required will, and Cressie had none of it.

So, she ate her eggs, and then the ham, and then her fruit, before drinking her tea without sugar. And once her dishes were cleaned, she then opened her already opened letter.