Mere moments later a new message arrives on her phone. “Good girl, and right on time. You can relax for the rest of the evening now, but when your husband is in bed tonight, I think you should spend some time updating your diary. I know you don’t actually have it anymore, it’s sitting her beside me, but write a new update and send it to me, and I will add it in for when I give it back to you, assuming you behave for me that is. Now enjoy the evening with your husband.”
She breaths in relieve as she realises she doesn’t need to do anything new for now, that she can sit and relax until her husband goes to bed. She returns downstairs to him, sitting on the sofa while he takes up the chair. On a few occasions she tries to start a conversation but he shows little interest in anything except the television, and eventually she gives up, instead picking up a book to pass her time.
“Right, I’m off to bed” he finally announces as he rises, “you coming?” She nods her head, and he simply wanders off. She sits, listening to the sound of him upstairs, giving him time to fall to sleep. And confident he will not return she goes to the computer to write what she has been ordered to.
She sits wondering what she should say, knowing she is expecting to write in the same style her diary has been until now. While she wants to say how horrid it all is, how she hated her day, she knows she cannot at risk of displeasing him. So instead she starts to imagine how her day would have been had it been a fantasy like so many she has had and written about before.
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