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A Mother's painful Duty part 3

A Mother's painful Duty

Part 3

By Cate

When the Spanish maid carried the second suitcase out to Dr Mappamundi's

little car she had a smirk on her face and Emily hated her for it. The

hood of the car was up and the handle on the passenger door was still

broken, so the maid had to lift the bag over the door onto the seat. When

Dr Mappamundi came down the stairs she was wearing no makeup and it was

plain she had been crying again. Shamefacedly, she kissed Emily on the

cheek, then turned to speak to Mrs Armstrong who pointedly ignored her,

turning to arrange the lilies on the massive hall table. Dr Mappamundi's

shoulders slumped in defeat, then she turned and went out to her car.

Before Emily could follow, Mrs Armstrong turned decisively and pushed shut

the massive door, leaving the hall in its usual semi-darkness, only lit by

a stair window. The crackle-surfaced oil paintings retired again into the

gloom and the row of ivory elephants, the colour of decaying teeth, were

still on their long march into the darkness below the stairs. "Thank

goodness," Mrs Armstrong said. " Well, nobody can say I have not done my

best with her."

Dr Mappamundi appeared to have totally forgotten that mommy never

believed herself to be wrong and that when she made her mind up there was

no more to be said. Hysterics and crying were not going to make any

difference. It was worse than when any of the maids had been sacked. At

least none of them had gone so far as to go down on their knees before

Mommy. But that is what Dr Mappamundi had done, pulling despairingly at

Mrs Armstrong's skirt and then had collapsed moaning on the ground until

Mommy had forced her to her feet and given her a stinging slap across her

cheek. Dr Mappamundi's humiliating departure from the house had been

almost as great a shock as her arrival, Emily thought as she followed her

mother up the broad staircase. Outside, the little sportscar had crunched

down the drive with a final, defiant spurt of gravel and an autumn gale

lashed the trees of the driveway. A grim ivory warrior sneered at Emily

from the window embrasure on the stairs.

Emily remembered that warm morning late in the Summer. Dr Mappamundi

had left the top of the little red sports car down as it stood on the

gravel overnight. As Emily tried to open the passenger door, Dr Mappamundi

said airily "I think the handle's broken, Emily, just climb over " Emily,

wearing a skirt, did not find this easy and Dr Mappamundi zoomed off,

spraying gravel from the driveway onto the lawn, while Emily still had one

leg hooked over the little door and was trying to arrange her tender bottom

onto the leather bucket seat. In some ways it had been very pleasant

having Dr Mappamundi staying in the house, although Emily found that the

discussions between her mother and Dr Mappamundi were usually a little

abstruse.. Dr Mappamundi now swung the little car gaily down the wide,

tree lined boulevard, swerved to avoid a refuse lorry, mounted the pavement

for a few yards and demolished a two-year old sapling before regaining the

road.

This morning she was wearing a dark red suit and a white blouse with

discreet red polka dots. Not everyone could wear red high heels, but Dr

Mappamundi managed it with aplomb. Emily was surprised her mother had not

commented, as she would have done with Emily and, after all, Mrs Armstrong

had certainly now placed herself in loco parentis to Dr Mappamundi.

"Emily," Dr Mappamundi said, as she negotiated one of the narrow side

streets near the university, "You're very quiet." "Am I?" Emily said. Dr

Knapp glanced at her quizzically "Did something happen last night?" "Such

as what?" Emily asked. "Oh, come, Emily, don't play the innocent with me."

"I h..heard you and mommy having an argument downstairs," Emily said."I was

in bed, remember..You were discussing...." " Wittegenstein, yes," Dr

Mappamundi said impatiently. ""Of what we do not know, therefore we may

not speak." But we do know what goes on in that house, don't we."

"Did...did mommy spank you," Emily asked. "I heard you cry out." "Yes, I

lost the argument and your mom spanked me..I have no complaint. I was in

the wrong and she totally demolished my foolish arguments. She "brought me

to book" as she so delightfully puts it." "Dr Mappamundi, believe me truly,

I'm so sorry," Her professor made in impatient gesture as she reversed

awkwardly into a parking spot and helped Emily out the door on the driver's

side, leaving the car at a forty-five degree angle to the kerb. "No,

Emily, I've accepted her right to do that. Don't ask me why. You know we

are both now firmly in her charge. But Emily, please say that's all you

heard.?" "I thought I heard you crying - after mommy went to bed..." "And?"

"And I. ..I came to talk to you." "Oh my God, I knew it," Dr Mappamundi

said. She looked back at the car "Do you think it'll do? Oh, to Hell with

it" She leaned over the car to lift a pile of essays and Emily couldn't

help looking at her shapely bottom which in turn reminded her of the

professor's first visit to the house. "Emily, we can't discuss this

properly now. Let me see, I have a free period at half two - can you come

to my study then?" "I...I don,t really want to talk about it," Emily said.

"Please, Emily," Dr Mappamundi said. "This is monstrously unfair to you. I

really am your friend Emily. Perhaps we can help each other in this."

Emily had one lecture with her friend that morning, but she studiously

avoided eye contact. Dr Mappamundi was less than usually concentrated,

although she could often be lured away from the subject in hand by some of

the more mischievous students, particularly the female ones. A discussion

on Kant and Hegel took a couple of side trips in which Dr Mappamundi's

monthly periods and the merits of waxing rather than shaving one's legs

were elegantly touched upon. Emily's mind was so far astray that she had

later to be recalled twice by the lecturer in her English Literature class.

At the time appointed she tapped rather timidly on the massive oak door of

Dr Mappamundi's study. When bade to enter she found Dr Mappamundi in her

leather armchair, in her stocking feet, one foot balanced on the thigh of

her other leg while she massaged her toes gently. Her discarded red shoes

with the four inch heels stood together on the desk on a volume of "De

Summa Theologica." The rest of the desk was covered with files and books

and Dr Mappamundi swept them imperiously to one side. "Emily," she said

gravely, "If you know nothing - fine. However, if you do you must prepare

yourself for anything your mother may ask you." "But I haven't done

anything wrong," Emily wailed. "I'm not for a moment saying anyone has

done anything wrong, Emily," Dr Mappamundi said in her closely reasoned way

"I do hope you won't think so. However your mother is quite likely to

punish you severely if she thinks you know anything. She will prove you to

be in the wrong and will not let you jeopardise her position in any way."

"I know," Emily wailed in despair. Dr Mappamundi reached across the desk

and took the girl's hands in hers "Tell me, Emily." "I went into your room

last night. I'm sorry, but you were making a funny noise - I thought I

heard you sobbing." Dr Mappamundi's face was paler than before. "The door

was slightly ajar. I only looked in. And as soon...."Emily began to sob,

"as soon as I s..saw I wasn't...wanted.I...went away." "Emily, to put it

bluntly, you saw your mother and I... not to put too fine a point on it,

you saw her on top of me, isn't that it?" Emily nodded in dumb misery.

Dr Mappamundi rose and crossed the room gracefully, on the balls of her

feet like a dancer, to collect a coffee percolator and two cups. When she

had poured the coffee she appeared to be considering very carefully what

she was going to say. "Last week, Emily, the first time I came to see your

mother, you heard me beg her for mercy....." Emily nodded. "And you were

there, dear Emily, to witness my humiliation. Somehow...I just about got

through it. And there was a certain perverse..." here Dr Mappamundi broke

off and began biting the knuckle of her left thumb, a characteristic habit

when she was considering a knotty philosophical problem.. "Last night,

Emily, your mother took me beyond the point of no return. I was frantic,

begging her for clemency but this time I was terrified as well. " Again Dr

Mappamundi was silent, deep in thought. "She made me another of her famous
propositions. But first she questioned me closely." "I don't understand,"

Emily said. "She suspected, well more than suspected, and by judicious

questioning she established to her satisfaction...." here Dr Mappamundi

paused again and made a steeple of her hands as if taking a break for

prayer. She could sometimes be maddeningly slow to come to the point and

was always so conscious of the need for what she called "cogent reasoning"

and "provable propositions" "The fact is, Emily, that she made me admit

what I think she already knew ... that I.. well, I had a...a multiple

orgasm while I was across her knees last week. Please don't look so

shocked, Emily, you know what an orgasm is." Emily nodded dumbly. "I'm not

a lesbian, Emily. I did experiment a little as a student and had a brief

fling with a female lecturer, but then," she shrugged her beautiful

shoulders and spread her hands as if in supplication "doesn't everyone?"

Emily stared at her open-mouthed. "Perhaps not" Dr Mappamundi said.

"Anyway, Emily, I did not initiate anything, so please don't be so cool

towards me. Have you ever succeeded in resisting your mother?" " No, but

this is...such a shock!".." "Emily, how shall I put this? Your mother
is..." "What?" "She is ... not inexperienced." "My God," Emily buried her

head in her hands. Dr Mappamundi had a dreamy look on her face. She

crossed her arms in front of her and appeared to caress her neat breasts in

their warmth. "I have to tell you this, Emily," she said. "Your mother is

a fabulous lover." Emily stared in disbelief. "A somewhat selfish one,

perhaps," Dr Mappamundi studied her long red fingernails for a moment, "

but so superbly sensitive to...to her own needs... goading, spurring on,

as it were... "Dr Mappamundi gulped, ".. that she can drive a lover wild,

yes, wild in simply trying to...to satisfy her desires. The overwhelming

need to...to give her pleasure then becomes one's supreme desire, a desire

that is translated into.... Oh, God!." Dr Mappamundi was for once lost for

words, swallowed and licked her dry lips and appeared embarrassed at the

way her voice had thickened. "So is it..... going to continue?" Emily

asked. Dr Mappamundi thirstily drained the cold dregs of her coffee "If

only it would," she said wistfully, taking her red heels from the desk."but

she has given me no indication, in spite of my entreaties, that I may merit

a permanent place in her bed.". Dr Mappamundi crossed her left leg over

her right thigh and slipped on the shoe, then reached for the other one.

"For the past week I have had to behave as I were her wilful daughter. "

She slipped the other shoe on, then stretched out her feet to inspect them.

"Now I fear I may be just her tart!"