“In the kitchen,” my darling mother’s voice echoed through the house directing her bullish boy friend right to me, thanks mum. Ian was a bastard...and that was no surprise, he was the newest in a long line of bastards dragged into the house by my mother. She had married a man in her teens, had me and been surprised when he buggered off as soon as I was born. Since then there had been a long succession of arrogant worthless low lives each as bad as the next in their own way. Mostly they had. I had to tell her."My God, Dee Dee. You look hot! I can't believe how gorgeous you are!"Even under the circumstances, I guess I should have been apologizing profusely for screwing around on her, or mad as hell for whatever subterfuge had been perpetrated on me. I could tell she wasn't exactly upset with me. Maybe it's flattering to be ogled by a man who is screwing another woman. Come to think of it, it can't be that flattering to a woman being screwed while her partner is being turned on by. ”“One of the secrets of monasticism. Silence is the way to knowledge.”“Indeed. I had an interesting talk with a Buddhist monk. Well, three interesting talks.”“And?”“He strongly suggested I find a Russian Orthodox monk to serve as my spiritual advisor.”“He what?!” she gasped.“You heard me! He has a reasonable point.”“Does he know about your ‘impediment’?”“Not specifically, but you know how Father Basil treats me. And the bishop.”“So whom?”“I’m going to call Vladyka fairly soon and speak with. At the end of each day, she was escorted to her assigned residence, which was nearby. She shared it with two other women. It wasn't much of a residence – it amounted to a prison cell with three beds, a bathroom, and a small kitchen. The three of them were locked inside overnight, and not released until the start of the next workday. They was given a weekly allotment of food, which of course they had to pay for. The entire area – the warehouse and a number of similar residences – was surrounded.
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There are rings on her wedding finger but that has been equally true of some of the people Paul and I have met on our occasional adventures. Monique i
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