“You will do as you’re told.” “No, I won’t.” Punishments sometimes stick in the memory in odd ways, as it did for Sylvia with the locked cupboard. When her mother finally opened the cupboard and burst into tears, Sylvia had been filled with a sense of power. Sylvia had only been five years old, but, even today, she would go to surprising lengths to revive that feeling.
*
The conference was in Birmingham. Sylvia was looking forward to it, both on a personal and a professional level.
At the end of the day, after she had spoken to the nanny and said goodnight to the kids, she sat down for a good old natter with two of her oldest colleagues. When they decided to turn in, Sylvia was still finishing her glass of wine.
“Would you care for something stronger?”
Dali was sitting at the bar, holding a glass in his hand and smiling at her.
“Thank you,” she said, meaning to get up and go to bed.
Dali shrugged.
“It was just a friendly gesture,” he said. “I’ve been observing you all night, Miss Lash.”
“Really,” said Sylvia, “that must have been fascinating.”
“As a matter of fact, it was,” said Dali
Dali stared at her; Sylvia laughed.
“You don’t believe I can handle you?”
“That I know.”
Sylvia got up to go. Ignoring the man, she walked out of the bar and headed for the lifts.
“This is getting quite ridiculous,” she said. “You realize all I have to do is press this button and the hotel staff will come running.”
“Go ahead,” said Dali. “I don’t think you will.”
The lift doors opened.
Sylvia tried to push past him, but he blocked her way. “You should slap me now.”
Sylvia did not hesitate. She slapped Dali across the face. Afterwards, as she lay in bed, she had to admit she still enjoyed every minute of it.