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Still, it was made by her master so Suz happily ate it all up. As wasproper for a woman, Suz ate without using her hands. She heard the sound amoment before she felt the pain. Behind her, her master?s son would hit herbehind with the paddle till she finished her meal. Finishing with the mealquickly, Suz immediately put her veil back on. The beating stopped immediately.Suz glanced back, as much as she could with her head to the ground, and saw thesmall feet behind her. Suz knew that the small feet belonged to her master?syoungest son, Tord. Too young to be given a proper male name, he was stillusing his baby name. Suz felt pride that the boy which came out of her wasgrowing into a man. Again, she crushed all feelings of pride within her. Itjust wasn?t proper. All 3 women had finished eating andwaited for the master?s orders. ?Foz, get to the cart. The rest of you to thefarm.? Foz was the biggest of the 3 women,so she was always the cart-puller. Suz could hear her sister running to. Catherine's loser husband was away on "business" - actually, I knew from a mutual friend that he was holed up in a seedy motel with a pair of hookers called Chantelle and Chardonnay, but who was I to judge? - and Catherine had agreed to a romantic getaway at my secluded cottage, high up in the hills. We left early on the Saturday morning, enjoyed a long, leisurely lunch at a roadside cafe, and drove up into the mountains accompanied by a selection of Catherine's favourite CDs.Catherine leaped out of the car and ran up the gravel path to the front door as I wrestled our pair of large bags from the back seat and followed after her. Reaching the weathered wooden porch, I dropped the bags, fished the key from my pocket, and unlocked the door. Eagerly, Catherine pushed past me, only to stop dead in the doorway as she beheld the room beyond. It had taken me two weeks of concerted effort to get the cottage the way I wanted it. Gone was the rural, folksy decor - in its place was a large.
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