I had consented to a private dance for him, but I was not ready to perform just yet. Not now and certainly not here in Amsterdam.He suggested London, where he lived, describing to me the underground swimming-pool grotto he had at his mansion there. It sounded wonderfully decadent to me and appealed to my imagination; the first thing that sprang to mind was that I could be a mermaid, and I was already thinking what I might wear and what music would be right for the performance.As he spoke, he looked like a wide-eyed little boy describing his toys. I agreed, although I reminded him, ‘No funny business. I will just be dancing, so I don’t want you to get any ideas, okay?’ He nodded. I was fearful at the thought, but a little voice inside my head was also whispering that I would eventually have sex with Viggo. I refused to spend my life alone, dreaming of a man I could not have, and who clearly didn’t want me any longer. For surely, Chey would have found me, fought for me – at least let me know where in the world he was – if he truly loved me.
