Page 20 of The Naked Cleaner

“Wouldn’t know.” I lie. Again. I lie a lot these days. And I really should check my emails.

“Louis?”

“Yes?”

“Can I please check my emails first?” Now I am treating him like he’s my dad and I kind of want to die.

“Let’s make a deal.”

“Another one?”

“Yeah, you get an hour to check your emails and stuff, and I’ll make us dinner. Then in an hour, you’re all mine. No phones, or work allowed. For the rest of the evening I need you to relax, and then you are going to have a good night’s sleep, so tomorrow you’ll be in good shape, ready for a proper working day. Don’t neglect your health, it’s important to listen to your body. We need to get food and nutrition into you.”

“And water.” I rabbit on.

“Water. I went down to the 7-Eleven on Nansensgade, and you know Astrid who works the tills there?”

“No?”

“But you shop there?”

“No? I order food online from Nemlig.com, or get stuff from the shop on Fasanvej, but I don’t tend to socialise with the cashiers in random shops. Seriously, Louis?”

“Nothing wrong with the cashiers. This Astrid is one of Denmark’s most famous BDSM instructors, she does courses all over the world in the art of Dominance, Submission and stuff like flogging, you know, whips and chains and pain stuff. She’s also a naturist.”

“Louis, I don’t want to know.”

“She’s lovely, and really interesting to talk to. My mum has read her books, and she’s kind of famous. I was a little starstruck when I realised where I recognised her from.”

“Louis. Shut up. I need to be able to go down to the 7-Eleven when I need to andnothave a panic attack thinking that the cashier is about to whip my arse.”

His laughter is actually freeing. He makes me laugh. He makes me laugh and that is frightening. It was easier to deal with him when he was an arsehole. I don’t like this side of him, the nice funny bloke who is leaning back on my sofa. I will have to get him to wash the blanket, because his arse is right on it. If he farts, I will scream.

He’s not farting.

He just shakes his head and picks up my empty cup from the coffee table.

“You have an hour, then your skinny arse is mine. And if you work a sheer minute longer, I will call Astrid and ask her to come and demonstrate some good spanking techniques on you.”

He winks.

I laugh.

Then I squirm.

Then I fire up the computer and load the email client. Then, I sigh. Bang my head against the desktop and whine into my hands.

I have an hour.

He doesn’t make the rules.

I hate him.

He makes me smile

He makes me fucking laugh and I want to shout out to the kitchen and ask if he’s staying the night and can he please sleep in my bed, and I will drink whatever shite he offers up as long as he stays.

My life would be much less complicated if he just left.

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