Finding Alex - 9. Chapter 9

Sacha was curled up on the sofa, when Lacey knocked the door. He was wearing a pair of cotton pyjamas he’d found in a drawer. Like everything else, they were too big, but they had a tie-string waist so he was fairly sure they wouldn’t fall down whenever he stood up.

“Come in.”

Lacey had changed into sweat pants and t-shirt. She folded comfortably onto the sofa at his side.

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing. Watching the rain.”

“I like watching rain, too. It always makes me l sleepy. Would you like to watch a film? We have lots. Or would you like to talk? Or play a game?”

Sacha considered. He was tired and numb. The events of the day had exhausted him, and he’d been almost asleep. The last thing he wanted to do was talk, and he didn’t have the focus to play video games.

“A film, I think.”

“Do you have a favourite?”

Sacha shook his head. He’d watched lots of movies but they’d mostly been kids’ films. That was all Ryland stocked for them. Once or twice he’d watched a horror film with the older boys, but he didn’t like them at all. They scared him. There was no room for creeping horrors in places that couldn’t be escaped from.

Of course, he’d seen plenty of ‘instructional’ films, but he didn’t think Lacey would be interested in anything like that.

“How about something to make us laugh?” Laccey asked.

Sacha smiled. “Yes, that would be good.”

Sacha could not, afterwards, have told anyone what film they’d watched. What he could say was that, as soon as the film started, Lacey tucked up her feet and pulled him in to her side. He watched the television with his head on her chest until he fell asleep.

Sacha woke suddenly in darkness. Outside, a storm was raging, the wind flinging itself, and handfuls of rain, against the windows. Sacha pulled the covers higher and lay still, listening. Apart from the rain, it was quiet; too quiet. It had never been quiet. Back home, there had always been someone moving around, or snoring, or crying. In the hospital there were all kinds of sounds, but here there was nothing but the rain. He was sure if he closed the window there wouldn’t even be that. Sacha didn’t want to close the window. He liked the smell of rain and the fact that outdoors was so close. There hadn’t been a window in the cellar room, and the windows in the hospital had bars. Here, there were no bars, and some of the windows even opened like doors, like the one on the porch balcony.

For Sacha, that night, the silence was loud and it got louder and louder as his mind ran backwards, over all the things that had happened to him. When he got to the part where the house burned, the silence was so loud he had to fill it, so he screamed. When the screaming stopped, he cried and when the crying stopped he was asleep.

The next morning, Sacha lay in bed for a long time listening to the rain. It was early. He always woke early. Lacey said breakfast was at nine. It was seven thirty so he had a lot of time. Maybe he should have another bath. Or maybe he should explore. Or maybe try to work out the television. Or.... With a groan, he pulled the covers over his head and curled on his side. Maybe he’d just stay exactly where he was. It was small under the covers, a small dark cave. The world outside was so big, and right now he needed it to be small, so he stayed where he was and drifted back to sleep.

Sacha was woken by a sound. For a moment, he couldn’t work out what it was, then he realized it was someone knocking on his door.

“Sacha? Are you awake? Are you okay?”

He sat up and rubbed sleepy eyes. “Lacey?”

“Can I come in?”

“Yes.”

The bedroom door cracked open and Lacey peeped around. Then she opened the door and walked in. A delicious smell came with her.

“I hope you don’t mind me coming up here. If you tell me not to, I won’t. I just thought that, as you didn’t come down for breakfast, I’d bring breakfast up to you.”

Confused from sleep, Sacha blinked at the clock to find it was almost ten. “I’m sorry.” he said, horrified. “I didn’t mean to. I—“

“Sacha, it’s okay.” Lacey sat on the bed and put a hand on his arm. “I told you breakfast was at nine. I didn’t tell you, you had to be there.”

“I’m not ungrateful.”

“You don’t have to be grateful, Sacha. We don’t expect you to be grateful for anything.”

“But, I…. I have to be grateful. You’ve given me more than anyone has ever given me. Of course I have to be grateful.”

Lacey sat back and looked at him. “Okay. If you want to be grateful you can, of course you can, but you don’t have to. Don’t ever think you have to. Families give things to each other because they’re family, because they want to, not because they want to be thanked. These things, Sacha.” She swept her arm. “These things are yours. They should always have been yours. If you hadn’t left us they would have been yours all along. This is your home, now. It always has been. I know it’s a lot to swallow, a lot to get used to. Give yourself time. Don’t be so hard on yourself. You haven’t got to walk on eggshells, to please us all the time. It’s okay to please yourself, too. Ask for what you want.”

“I…. I want….” Sacha closed his eyes and breathed deeply. “I want to eat whatever’s making that smell.”

Lacey laughed. “Okay, come get it then.”

The food Lacey’d brought up, on a covered tray, was delicious, and Sacha couldn’t get enough of it. Lacey wouldn’t eat anything, she said she’d already eaten enough. She laughed at him for eating so much. After a moment of worry, he laughed with her. He knew she was teasing.

“What do you want to do today? I was going to take you out to see the horses but the weather’s too bad. There’s quite a storm blowing out there. How about we go exploring?”

“That sounds good. I-I was a bit scared.”

“About finding your way around?”

“Yes.”*

“Don’t worry, it’s pretty easy. Everything’s laid out according to a plan. Once you know the plan you won’t get lost.” Lacey got to her feet. “Get dressed and meet me in my room. We can start with the first floor and move down. Do you remember where my room is?”

“I…think so.”

“Okay then, get dressed and I’ll see you down there in a bit.”

Sacha scrambled to get dressed as quickly as he could. He was excited about something for the first time in years. With Lacey at his side, the prospect of exploring was thrilling rather than terrifying. He paused at the top of the stairs, as it hit him. He had a friend. He actually had a real, proper friend, and he was almost skipping by the time he reached the bottom.

It took a little peeping through doors to find Lacey’s room. He knew it was hers because it was pink.

“Hello?”

“I’m in the bathroom,” Lacey called. “I won’t be long. Make yourself at home.”

Sacha looked around. It was a very pretty room. The pink was mainly in accents and wasn’t overpowering. Most of the room was decorated in soft pastels, with lace curtains on the four poster bed, and lace panels on the bedding and curtains. Sacha ran his hand over the silky coverlet and sighed. He wondered what it would feel like to sleep under something like that – so soft and silky. He shivered with pleasure, as he remembered what it was like to feel silk next to his skin. It hadn’t happened often, but he could clearly remember every single time.

In contrast, the lace was crinkly and crisp. It could be scratchy but in a really nice way. Without realizing it, Sacha had picked up Lacey’s silk pyjama top and was rubbing his cheek against it. They smelled faintly of Lacey’s perfume. On a whim, he slipped from the bed, taking the pyjama jacket with him, and explored Lacey’s dressing table. He found some perfume bottles and sniffed them. They were all light and delicate and, without thinking, he sprayed some on himself. He liked it. He liked it a lot.

“Sorry, I just needed to— Oh.”

Sacha looked up and smiled, then realised he was still holding her pyjamas. “It’s soft,” he said, suddenly embarrassed. He hurried to put the jacket back on the bed. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t going to steal it.”

“That’s okay. If you like silk pyjamas you can have silk pyjamas. We’ll get some of your own. Would you like to borrow some of mine in the meantime?”

Sacha lit up. He thought about the rustle and swish of silk, the pure sensuousness of it sliding across his skin and nodded eagerly. “Yes, please.”

Lacey opened a drawer and frowned. “I don’t have many. I prefer cotton, especially when it’s cold. I think they’re all a bit girly for you.” Sacha looked into the drawer. They were the prettiest clothes he’d ever seen. He reached out and brushed the silk with his fingers.

“Can I really? Can I really wear one of these?”

“Er…. Yeah, sure.”

Sacha beamed – until he looked up and saw her face.

“What-what have I done? You did say….”

“No. No, you haven’t done anything. Of course you can have one. I just didn’t think….”

“Think what?”

“I didn’t think you’d want something so….pretty. I thought boys like things more…well…boyish.”

“What does that mean?”

“Well…not pink, I guess.”

“Oh. I like pink. Is that wrong?”

“Wrong? Of course it’s not wrong. Just…surprising, that’s all.”

Relaxing again, Sacha picked out a pair of pearly white pyjamas with tiny pink flowers scattered over them. He raised them to his face and rubbed his cheek against them, closing his eyes.

“Sacha…. I hope you don’t mind me asking, but are you…? Do you….?”

“Do I what?” Lacey looked really uncomfortable, and Sacha was confused as to why. He looked at her levelly while she squirmed, moving things around on the dressing table and avoiding his eyes.

“Well, if you…. I mean if you’d like to borrow any of my clothes….”

“Why would I want to do that?”

“Well, I…. I thought….”

“Can I see?”

“See what?”

“Your clothes.”

“Oh. Yes, of course. Knock yourself out.”

Sacha looked into the drawers and cupboards, running his hands over the soft sweaters and pretty lace tops. When he found the underwear drawers, he blushed but still couldn’t help himself from touching the silk and lace. They’d told him at the hospital it was wrong for him to wear underwear like this; that only women could, and boys didn’t have lace. He’d told them then he didn’t believe them and he still felt the same now, although he was reminded he should be more cautious about what he said.

“You’re very sensual aren’t you,” Lacey said, smiling gently at him.

“What does that mean?”

“You like to touch things, and smell them.”

Sacha shrugged. “I like nice things; things that make me feel good. I haven’t had too many of them.”

“No, I guess not. Well, if there’s anything you want to borrow, you’re more than welcome, and when we go shopping you can buy nice things for yourself.”

“Can I…? Can I have perfume – like yours? I like to smell nice, too.”

“We’ll see what we can find. Are you ready to go exploring now?”

Sacha was more excited than ever. He’d never had perfume of his own. Sometimes clients gave him some but he could only use it when he was with them. They were the clients who liked him to dress in silk and satin and wear high heels. That had taken some getting used to but he was good at it now. He could do lots of things wearing ridiculously high heels. The clients really seemed to like it, even when he used the stiletto heels to make holes in them. Not deep holes, of course. None of them liked being hurt too much, although they had no such reservations about hurting him.

The thought of the silk stockings and high heels made his heart beat faster; then crash. When would he get to do that again? The thought of never feeling the slide of silk along his thigh or to experience the sense of elegance and power that came from wearing heels, brought tears to his eyes.

“What’s wrong?” Lacey asked, as if sensing his mood.

“Nothing.”

“Don’t lie to me.” She caught him by the shoulders and made him look at her, even though he tried to drop his head. “What’s wrong?”

“I…can’t say.”

“Yes you can. You can say anything you want to me.”

“They…they said…. At the hospital. They said it was…wrong.” He whispered the last word, trying to turn away; his face flaming.

“They said what was wrong? Wearing perfume?”

Sacha shrugged and nodded. “And…other things.”

“Like what?”

Sacha squirmed uncomfortably.

“Do you like to wear women’s clothes, Sacha? Is that it?”

“I…no, not clothes. Why would I? I’d look stupid in a dress. It’s just…just…some…some things.”

“Silk underwear? Lace?”

Sacha squirmed even more, and nodded.

“Silk stockings?”

He looked into her eyes, begging her silently to stop. Lacey pulled him into her arms. “Oh, God Sacha, what did they do to you? Of course it’s not wrong to want to wear nice things. Some people have a problem with it, like some people have a problem with homosexuality, but it’s their problem not yours. The psychiatrist had no business putting things like that in your head.”

Lacey moved him back to look into his eyes again. “You have to be what you are, honey, or you’ll be terribly unhappy. William Shakespeare wrote in one of his plays ‘This above all, unto thine own self be true’, and he really knew what he was talking about. You have to be a little careful, but there’s absolutely nothing wrong with it, Sacha. Lots of men like to do that. There are special shops just for men who are…well…a lot bigger than you, and can’t just go into a normal shop to buy things. There are men who dress in women’s clothes all the time.”

“There are?”

“Yes.” Sacha thought about it for a moment. “I don’t think I’d like to do that. I’d feel silly in a dress. It just isn’t me.”

“Then don’t.”

Impulsively, Sacha hugged Lacey. “Thank you,” he said. “I feel better now.”

“What I don’t understand,” Lacey said, as they wandered out into the corridor, “is why the psychiatrist would tell you it’s wrong. They should know better.”

“They said it was part of my, um ‘unhealthy sexual practices’. I’m not really sure what they meant really. I mean, I know it was wrong to have sex when I was so young, and with people who were paying R-him for it, but— They said it was wrong to like being hurt, but I’ve seen films; been to clubs. I know it’s not wrong and I can’t lie.” Sacha bit his lip. Had he said too much?

Lacey looked thoughtful. “I’m no expert, Sacha, but I think what they were worried about is that your preferences have been tainted by the things you were made to do. If that’s truly what you want, what you like, there’s nothing wrong with it as long as it doesn’t go too far.”

“What’s too far?”

“Anything that makes you feel uncomfortable, or that hurts you more than you want to be hurt.”

Sacha could see it was difficult for Lacey to talk about those things, but he liked what she was saying, even though he didn’t quite get it. Maybe it would be safe to explore a bit further.

“How do I know?”

“How do you know what?”

“When it’s too far? I…. I’m…. I don’t know….” It was harder than he thought but he’d come this far. “Sometimes, when I thought it was too far, even when I asked them to stop and they didn’t and it…well…it wasn’t…too far. It was….you know….okay. Good.”

Lacey’s face was flaming, and Sacha suddenly wanted to change the subject, but she wasn’t about to let him.

“I think this is something you really should be talking to a professional about. If I promise you’re safe, that no one will take you away from us, maybe if I can get them to come here, will you talk to a specialist about this? A psychiatrist who’s expert in answering questions like this, helping people like you? I promise it will be someone who’s a lot more understanding that the idiots who got their hands on you in that hospital.”

Sacha’s heart seized with fear. He had gone too far. He’d known this would happen. Why hadn’t he just kept his mouth shut? It was stupid even to think he could have nice things like that, with no repercussions. The psychiatrist would come and would take him away to the facility. He should have known better then to trust. He should have—”

“Sacha. Stop it.”

“What?”

“Stop seeing threats everywhere. We’re not going to hurt you, and we’re not going to let anyone else hurt you. I don’t know what they told you in the hospital, but you’re not going anywhere. I told you we’d take care of you, and I meant it. I mean it. Please try to trust us. If you don’t want to see a psychiatrist, you don’t have to. But I really think that if we find the right one, one that won’t scare you or put stupid ideas in your head, they could really help you to work through your feelings and find out what’s really you, and what was forced on you.”

“Oh.” Sacha thought about it. “And I wouldn’t have to go anywhere. They wouldn’t make me leave – no matter what?”

“No matter what. I promise.”

“Okay. If you promise it’s safe, I trust you.”

“I promise.”

Sacha smiled, his world warm again.

Lacey was rather quiet at first, as they prowled the first floor, peeping into rooms so Sacha could get a feel for their occupants and where about they were situated. They soon started to have fun, though and she relaxed.

Sacha liked James’ room best, because it had lots of things in it. There were posters on the wall and shelves full of little gold shields and statues. “What are these?” Sacha asked, picking up one of the statutes. It had a little man on top, kicking a ball.

“It’s a trophy. They’re prizes for winning competitions. James got that one for football. He’s good at archery, too, and sprinting. That one’s my favourite. The one with the little man holding a bow. He reminds me of Robin Hood.”

“I know Robin Hood,” Sacha said, reaching for the trophy. “We had a book, and there was a film where Robin Hood was a fox.”

“I’ve seen that one,” Lacey said, “My favourite character was the chicken.”

“I liked him too.”

“We’d better put these trophies back carefully.” Lacey said. “James will freak out if he knows we’ve been in here looking at them.”

“Why?”

“He hates anyone coming in here without him knowing. He won’t even let the staff in to clean, unless they ask first.”

“Why?”

“I suppose his privacy is important to him.”

Although the concept of privacy was alien to Sacha – back home only Ryland had rooms no one else was allowed into – he didn’t say anything, merely nodded and carefully replaced the Robin Hood trophy.