Page 48 of Be Less Panda

‘Don’t move around much. You’ll be fine. Henri knows this is a practice run.’

There was a gentle tap on the door. ‘Can I come in?’ a man’s voice called out.

‘Whenever you’re ready,’ Nancy replied.

‘No, no, no,’ Madame Dubois grabbed Nancy’s shoulders and looked her straight into her eye. ‘Forget about being polite. In this room, you are in charge. Henri is paying to be shouted at. Try again.’

‘Get in here now!’ Nancy yelled aggressively.

‘Much better,’ Madame Dubois smiled.

Philip was reorganising the bestsellers section when Nancy walked back into the shop, dressed in her regular clothes. He raised his eyebrows when he saw her.

‘What?’ she asked.

‘I’m not used to seeing you with heavy black eyeliner. It’s very Brigitte Bardot. It suits you,’ he grinned. ‘How did you get on? Did Madame Dubois show you the ropes?’

‘Ha ha! Very funny.’

‘Sorry, I couldn’t resist. Come on, dish the dirt.’

‘It was surprisingly empowering. I just remembered all those arseholes who I used to work with and imagined I was dominating them.’ Which had worked quite well until Henri had shouted his safe word when she’d been imagining whipping Mr Jefferson. ‘Not quite so hard next time,’ he had said as he’d hobbled out of the room to get dressed.

‘So, will you be getting some regular customers?’ Philip asked.

‘I expect so. Madame Dubois says she’ll take all the new ones, and once she’s made sure they’re not after something more, she’ll book them in with me if they’re happy.’

‘Are you offering any particular specialities?’

‘Why? Do you want to book a session?’ She looked at him seductively.

‘No offence, Nancy, but you know you’re not my type either as you or your alter ego. This might come in useful, though,’ he grinned, handing her a hardback book about the Marquis de Sade that he’d obviously deliberately tucked away under the table.

‘Sod off, Mason,’ she laughed, whacking him on the backside with it.

‘Ow! I predict you’ll get on very well in your new role.’

Nancy put her hands on her hips. ‘Make the tea!’ she growled.

‘Yes, mistress,’ Philip laughed as he headed towards the kitchen, rubbing his right buttock.

24

Nancy arrived home that evening with her new outfit wrapped in brown paper inside a bag that Madame Dubois had given her from a fancy boutique.

‘Olivia!’ she called out. There was no reply. She noticed a note on the dining table. ‘Gone to Pierre’s. Might not be back until tomorrow, Love O xx’

Perfect. She had the apartment to herself. Nancy made herself a cheese sandwich. Then proceeded to don her new outfit, leaving the boots until last.

She emerged from her bedroom and headed for the kitchen. Her right foot went over at the ankle after just two steps. Arghh! How was anyone supposed to walk in heels this high while wearing a restrictive skirt? She waggled her foot around. No damage done. She wasn’t going to let it beat her though.

She carried on slowly for a few more steps. Then the same thing happened again. This time, she lost her balance and knocked over one of the dining chairs, bashing her knee against the table leg in the process. She let out a yelp of pain while the chair crashed into the sink, knocking a plate off the draining board, which then smashed on the floorboards. ‘You bastard!’ She shouted.Get a grip, Nancy. It’s just a question of balance. You can ride a bike, so you can master this.

She tried again, managing to get the whole way across the room without falling over this time, albeit not very elegantly. At least she was improving. She sat down in one of the armchairs and visualised herself sashaying across the carpet.

Let’s go for it.She got out of the chair and set off towards the kitchenette, swinging her hips from side to side. It wasn’t so hard after all if you believed you could do it. She arrived at the sink without any more mishaps. She carefully turned to walk back to the armchair again. Much better. She continued practising, even mastering the art of turning a corner without needing to lean on anything.

She was finishing a final circuit of the room when she heard a knock on the door. Shit! There was no way she could answer it dressed like this. There was another knock. It sounded more urgent this time. Perhaps if she kept quiet, whoever it was would think she was out and go away. She stood still, listening, hoping to hear footsteps going down the stairs.

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