Sheina had moved from the waiting room, into the very confidential office. The sign on the door, "Reception : Confidential" was in large black letters and a heavy font. Underlining the superscription, the receptionist ostentatiously locked the door. She was of middling age, this receptionist, and a very superior employee of the KRU Clinic. Dressed in a close-fitting and expensive pair of pale grey trousers with matching jacket, and a white silk blouse underneath, she was the first person that the Clinic’s clients met. Everything about her screamed sophistication.
"Well now, Miss, em, let me just look at your application forms," she said, tapping her long
raspberry coloured nails on the keyboard of her computer. Sheina held a few more forms in her hands, with short, unpainted nails.
"Do you have your consent form there?" the receptionist said. She did not wear the usual name tag one would have expected, but the information pack that Sheina had received a week ago emphasised the fact that no names were ever exchanged. No client’s name, nor employee. Sheina handed over the form she had carefully read in the waiting room. It had taken a while to go through, consenting to this, not consenting to that, on and on until she could have read "War and Peace" in less time.
The telephone rang. The receptionist held up one carefully-groomed hand to Sheina.
"Yes," she purred into the telephone. "Of course, this is the KRU Clinic. Yes we do cater to all kinks, quirks, needs, and eccentricities, sexual and non-sexual. Do you wish us to send you an information pack? Yes? Excellent! Just email us at enquires at kruclinic.uk and we will send the particulars to you as soon as possible. Excellent, no, thank you for calling. Goodbye."
The receptionist’s voice had been perfectly reassuring, gentle and non judgemental. They emphasised that in the information as well as anonymity and discretion. And yet, their charges were not at all unreasonable.
"Now you understand how this works?" the receptionist said. Sheina nodded, but the receptionist ignored that and went on explaining; womansplaining?
"We match you up with someone who shares the same, shall we say, kink, if you don’t object to my use of that word. Or whose kink is complimentary to yours."
"Yes," Sheina said, "my friend told me, An.."
"Shh, no names please."
Sheina nodded, her head down, feeling like several kinds of a fool. It had taken so many days of talking herself into this and back out again, rinse and repeat.
"Well, this all looks to be correct, so follow me please."
The receptionist stood up, smoothing her trousers over her hips. Sheina was having second, third and twentieth thoughts, but coward that she was, she followed behind the swaying backside of the receptionist. Sheina wondered if the woman’s kink was binge-eating. Anne had told her that people often craved what was forbidden to them, or forbidden by them.
The receptionist walked along the corridor and into another room, that looked identical to the first one, down to the carefully placed bowl of roses on the desk. In this room, another woman sat working at a computer.
"Here is our new client, Doctor," the receptionist said, with a certain reverence in her voice. She indicated that Sheina should sit down, then she left to go back into the other room. Sheina sat down on a chair that was exactly the same as the first one she had sat on. She looked around.
"Slightly unsettling, isn’t it," the woman said "I am Doctor Ashton,"
Aha, so much for no names. The Doctor smiled, guessing what was in Sheina’s mind. "It is not my real name of course," she said. "Every precaution is taken so that our clients have complete anonymity and privacy. Do you understand?"
"Of course I do," Sheina said. "Thank you."
Dr Ashton nodded. "Now, we just have this short interview to get through and then I can show you to your room for the night. My first question is, how long have you had this…"
"Kink?" Sheina said, smiling.
"Ah yes, some do refer to it as a kink. Do you mind if I use that term? I can change it if it offends you."
"I’m not offended," Sheina said.
"Excellent. Well, as I said, how long?"
Sheina sighed. "For as long as I can remember. My ex-boyfriend thought I was weird when I said I wanted him to sleep facing away from me. He didn’t like knowing I was sitting up for a while, looking at him. After a while he’d had enough of being watched, he said, and he left me."
"Just the one ex?"
"One was enough."
"Well no one here will think you are weird, so please don’t worry on that score. Our counterpart clients are chosen very carefully."
The Doctor stood up. "We have someone in right now, waiting for you in room 9B. Come along and I’ll show you to the room."
"Already?" Sheina bleated. Although she had brought an overnight bag, as instructed, she had envisaged going away with a pocket full of leaflets and information, and then coming back again when she was feeling braver. If that ever happened. The Doctor raised one eyebrow. That was all, but Sheina got the message. Stop havering and get on with it. Delaying was only putting it off, and she had paid for this experience.
After climbing two lights of stairs and an uncomfortably silent ride in a lift, they reached a corridor with a line of identical doors. The room numbers were written in a very small, faint font, so discrete as to be practically unreadable. Room 9B was the one at the furthest end of the pale blue corridor. Doctor Ashton tapped a couple of times, then she unlocked the door with a surprisingly large key. Sheina followed; the room was dark and it took a few moments for her eyes to adjust. A little light came into the room through the drawn curtains, enough to see that there was a large bed at one side of the room, and someone was lying in it.
"He’s already half asleep," the Doctor whispered. She turned Sheina in the direction of a door at the far side of the room. "You can change in there." She patted Sheina on the hand. "Good luck," she said, and then she left. Sheina was alone with a man who was almost asleep, lying on his right side with the quilt drawn up to his waist. Sheina stood still for a moment. But the time to back out had already past and gone.
Sheina walked to the other door and opened it. There was a small changing room/bathroom, with a man’s clothes and shoes hanging up on some of the pegs that were arrayed around the walls. Quickly she took off her clothes, removing her bra but keeping on her underwear, as per the instructions she had received in an email that morning, to make herself comfortable. She piled her things neatly on a bench that ran around the tiny room, under an array of pegs. Then she took out a pair of pyjamas from her bag; her best, dark blue silk with white buttons on the jacket. She opened the door again.
He hadn’t moved; just that soft sound of someone breathing. Before she could concede defeat, get dressed again and run away, she forced her feet to carry her forward towards the bed. It was dark. This was no good, she wanted to see him, that was the whole point. Nevertheless, she got into the bed under the quilt and sat down behind him. At that moment, a dim light came on from a lamp fixed to the wall over the bed. Had the receptionist, or Doctor Ashton, been watching for that moment through a hidden camera? Sheina supposed it was a safety thing. After all, she and the man were strangers.
Now she could see his back; broad shoulders and a neat, trim back in a grey t-shirt. She leaned on one elbow to look at him. His short dark hair curled above the back of his neck. He looked so vulnerable from that angle. Sheina was unable to articulate everything she felt, not even to herself, though she tried. He was helpless, unguarded with his back turned towards her. She wanted to cry, or laugh. She couldn’t find a name for the myriad emotions that welled up inside her. No explanations or introductions. No names, no identities. Just a man, half asleep, and a woman watching him, and it was everything she had hoped for. He shifted a little in the bed. Perhaps he was aware of her looking at him. Did he mind? Of course not, she told herself, that was why he was there. Just as she longed to look at a sleeping man’s back, he wanted to be watched while he slept. They were guard and guarded, one passively lying still and the other delirious with joy. Neither of them speaking or the spell would be broken. Lightly, she touched the nape of his neck with the fingertips of her left hand. He held his breath. Had she done something wrong? She hadn’t meant to touch him, but the sight of his unprotected neck, moved her. He reached round and took hold of her hand. It was not in the script, but not unwelcome, so she let it lie, soft and yielding. He gently drew her hand round to his face, and kissed the palm. She was almost undone, stifling a sob. This was better than she had dreamt of. When he let her hand go, she sank down and rested her forehead between his shoulder blades. His back was warm and comforting, under his t-shirt. Sheina sighed, and for the first time in months, her whole body relaxed. She forgot about wanting only to look at him as she nestled into his back. She was trembling, trying desperately not to cry, overwhelmed with the release of all the grief and loneliness she had been holding on to.
"Shh, it’s all right," the man said gently. "Go to sleep." Again, not in the scenario as written by the good people of the KRU Clinic, and yet the spell was not broken after all. Sheina closed her eyes and let go.
When she woke up, she was alone. There was just a head-shaped dent on the other pillow to show that anyone else had been there. The quilt had been pulled up around Sheina and tucked around her. After a hot shower and clean clothes, Sheina felt light and airy. She giggled, thinking about how easy it would be to go flying off into the sky after having spent such a wonderful night, sleeping right through with no nightmares. The Clinic could have charged twice as much and she would have happily paid it. Outside, the sky was blue, the birds were singing and the supercilious receptionist had not been on duty when she left the Clinic. Only a young man, barely out of his teens, who greeted her with a bright smile and asked if she had enjoyed her stay. She stepped out onto the freshly-washed pavement, everything bright and shining in the new day. This early, the only shop open across the road was a coffee shop, conveniently placed for the Clinic’s clients to take some time to pull themselves together. Sheina went in and ordered coffee and a croissant with blackcurrant jam. A rare treat, but she decided she deserved it.
There was a man sitting facing her, in the next aisle, tucking into a full "English". He nodded to her. Did she know him? He had a nice, gentle face, but there was something familiar about him though she could not quite remember. So she gave up trying to think, and enjoyed the sweet, tart taste of the jam.
As she finished the croissant and drained her coffee cup, the man across the aisle finished his breakfast. He got up and came over to her, leaned close, and whispered in her ear: "Same time next week?"
She watched him leave the coffee shop. He turned just before he closed the door behind him, and waved to her. She waved back, then took out her phone to book another appointment.