She kept an impeccable distance between us; very proper, even when there was no one to see. That's one thing I liked about her. She was single minded ...nd had her own moral code. If we couldn't hold hands and kiss in front of the other workers, we wouldn't do it at all. At work, that is.We had one visit to make on Tuesday that was quite local. One of Northern Moor's failures. It was a question of whether we could patch up their botched work or simply provide an alternative. When we got back we. I sat up, and watched her in the grey light, my eyes having adjusted to the gloom. She was facing away from me, in the foetal position. It was warm, and she had the quilt pulled down to her stomach. I could see her t-shirt had rucked up a bit and hoped it was at least half-way up her legs. I realised I was breathing heavily. Calm down. Keep quiet. Don’t wake her. I slipped my hand under the quilt and started sliding it towards her. Thankfully she was on my side of the bed so I didn’t have to. "He didn't need to finish that sentence."Paulo left me alone that night and I was allowed to eat my dinner inmy room. That's when I found out that none of the servants spokeEnglish. They all spoke nothing but Portuguese. The only ones in thehouse I could talk to were Paulo and his wife and I think he liked itthat way."The next morning I was allowed to have some coffee and juice in thekitchen. I was still pretty much in a daze and I was happy no one couldspeak to me because I had nothing to say. She considered going to the hospital for a checkup as one of the policemen suggested, but she didn’t think it so necessary a precaution. An hour in the tub made her reconsider, as the stinging of her scratches and the soreness of her entire body flared beyond what she could tolerate, not to mention the side of her face which now transmogrified into a purplish, puffed up welt to which she soon applied ice.She looked at her broken body in the mirror and couldn’t help but break down in tears.
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