I kicked the chair that was in front of me, overturning it on the floor and I stood up. I went to the bathroom and splashed some water on my face to pull myself together.
‘I isolated myself… I eliminated everyone! Camellia was right,’ I said, looking with hatred into the bathroom mirror.
After having a hot bath and calming down, I inspected myself for imperfections. I wanted to be handsome and well-groomed for Camellia. I felt the need to impress her after all these years and I would change everything about myself so she wouldn’t see me in the horrible condition I was in recently.
I had to start by shaving, cutting my unkempt, curly hair and most of all by wearing different clothes! I couldn’t appear with my baggy trousers, my brown sandals and my long white shirt.
I took care of some obligations I had, I finished two paintings that were assigned to me and I phoned her, telling her to wait for me tomorrow afternoon in Rome for coffee.
She was pleased to hear from me and that made me even happier!
Inside the airplane I folded my arms from nervousness. I hadn’t seen her for quite a while and I didn’t know how I would react.
The moment came when I would meet my best friend after many years and I felt an inexplicable enthusiasm.
As soon as I set foot in Rome I felt a bit lost and looked at the streets and the cars perplexed. I hadn’t visited the city for over a year and had lost touch.
Looking straight at the Basilica di San Giovanni in Luterano, one of the finest sights in Rome in my opinion, I saw a ravishing girl with red hair approaching.
“It’s Camellia…”
She was always a beautiful girl and didn’t go unnoticed, but now she had become a stunning beauty!
“Jacques…?” she shouted from a distance and then I was sure I hadn’t mistaken her for another woman.
“Camellia. Wow! You’ve really changed,” I exclaimed with a smile, waiting for her to come closer.
“I hope I’ve changed for the better, right?” she asked with a classic expression that women take to get reassurance.
As we approached we kissed each other on the cheek and tightly hugged one another, which hid years of friendship!
Her scent was unforgettable and it took me back a long time ago, when I was living in Paris.
“Why are you asking? Of course! You’re close to perfection.”
“You’re exaggerating as always.”
“Only through excess you can describe the true image sometimes,” I said.
“Come on…you’re embarrassing me,” she replied lowering her head.
As I was looking at her, she reminded me of Eve! “Shall we go for a coffee so we can chat? We have so many things to talk about,” I asked.
“Can you wait for minute, they must have gone somewhere and we can all leave together.”
“All? Who’s all?” I questioned.
“Oh Jacques, you haven’t heard about anything! You withdrew and you didn’t keep in touch with anyone,” she said, taking my hand.
“We’ve already talked about this Camellia. Unfortunately, I lost touch. It was my decision and I will accept the consequences. Who are you waiting for exactly?”
“My husband and Christopher.”
“Excuse me?” I asked, raising my eyebrows with surprise.
“Yes… I’m married now and I have a son, he’s so sweet,” she replied, overwhelmed with joy.
I fell in deep depression when I heard her exciting news. I don’t know why I was disappointed, but I felt an unpleasant pressure while breathing.
“Congratulations,” I replied, giving her a fake smile.
After five minutes, a tall man with dark hair, who was carrying a little boy on his shoulders, came walking towards us.
“They’re here!” Camellia exclaimed.
I felt uncomfortable and unpleasant. I wanted to leave straight away and return home, but I stayed with her because I cared a lot for her.
“This is my best friend, Jacques. Jacques, this is my husband, Paul,” she said, introducing us.
Paul smiled at me and shook my hand so tight that I thought my bones would break. For the moment, I thought he had cut the circulation in my hand!
A typical narcissistic type of man. Fit, clean shaven, with smooth skin and smelling of coconut and avocado scented creams, the ones used for face and body care.
At a first glance he seemed like a womanizer and a ‘playboy’ type, but it was not my problem.
“Who are you?” I asked the smartly dressed and shy little boy.
“I’m Christopher,” he answered, putting his finger in his mouth.
“Nice name. I’m Jacques.” I gave him a pat on the head.
“So, are we going for coffee?” Camellia asked happily.
“Of course.”
Paul lifted Christopher on his shoulders again and we started walking towards the nearest café.
I was walking next to her and we constantly glanced at each other and gave quick smiles that had an innocent underlying meaning.
It was barely two minutes later when we sat down at a traditional Roman café, which had old looking metal chairs and burgundy awnings.
Camellia and her husband ordered cappuccinos and when my turn came I ordered a third one.
“So, do I look that bad?” I asked, leaving her puzzled.
“What are you talking about, Jacques? Did I say you look terrible?”
“You said it and in the worst possible way…” I replied with a smile.
“How’s that?”
“You didn’t comment on it at all. You didn’t comment whether I look good or bad, nor did you say if I’ve changed at all. It’s very strange since we haven’t seen each other for three years, don’t you think?”
“Oh Jacques, always quick witted and perceptive. You don’t look bad, you just seem weathered and I wonder; why are you doing this to yourself?”
“It’s what he wants! Leave him!” Paul cut in, taking a sip of his cappuccino.
“That’s what I want…” I said, repeating Paul’s words and Camellia shook her head and continued drinking her coffee.
Today was not what I expected. She was preoccupied with Paul and little Christopher for most of the time and it was completely normal.
She found some brief moments to take a break and talk to me, but still it wasn’t enough. I knew that she also wanted to steal some time so we could talk alone. After so many years I can’t say that I felt comfortable when I saw the three of them together. I found it even stranger that I was in Rome with them having coffee.
Just before we left, I stood up and went to the restroom. It was the coffee and the two glasses of water.
As I reached out to flush the toilet, I heard Paul’s voice talking conspiringly on the phone. I went out the toilet carefully but he wasn’t there. I could hear his voice clearer as I walked. I approached the door that led from the back of the café, to a small, overgrown garden and managed to hear everything…
I was right! Paul was having an affair and from what I heard, for quite a while.
You don’t say to a stranger or a friend: “Get ready baby. Kisses…”
I was shocked! Not to Camellia. Not to this woman! She’s too sensitive, too sweet and too unsuspecting. She’s so naïve and kind-hearted that even if I told her she would think that I’d misheard! She wouldn’t believe me.
She had been fooled in the past and I remember the pills she had to take for years so she could get over it and to my knowledge she had two suicide attempts!
“How was I to tell her now? Why damn it? Why Camellia; the man is obvious!” I thought, blaming her subconsciously.
Coming out from the restroom, Paul, who was standing in the corner holding his mobile with secrecy, was startled when he saw me and immediately changed the tone of his voice.
“Yes sir, I will see you this evening at the office,” he said, pretending that he was speaking to his boss.
“You have a very peculiar boss! You should watch him…�
� I mumbled ironically, passing by him and walking towards Camellia, who was sitting on her own with the little boy.
He was red from shame and nervousness. You could see it in his eyes that he was begging me not to say anything. He was begging silently. Without saying a word.
For the rest of the time I didn’t take part in the conversation. I was distracted. I looked at her and felt sorry for her. A woman like her should have a better man! A real knight and not a show-off womanizer!
When it was time to leave, after arguing over who would pay, Camellia invited me to their apartment to have something to eat but I wasn’t feeling comfortable and I refused. I was overpowered by the desire to look at her constantly and to talk to her but not with him next to her! I wanted her all to myself.
It was my turn to invite them to Venice, not for a day but to spend a holiday. I had a big house and we would feel more relaxed and would have a nice time. They talked about it for a few minutes and didn’t turn down the offer! She was taking time off from work in three weeks and they arranged to come to my delightful, captivating city so she could take her mind off work.
After giving Camellia a firm hug and a handshake to Paul, we parted and I took the next flight back to Venice.
On the airplane I kept thinking of her. Eve or Camellia? Camellia or Eve? I couldn’t tell who was who! The confusion I felt was terrifying. I saw two images in one face! I desired her. Many times, one face had the same expression as the other and they got confused in my head, causing me to lose my mind. Same lips, same fingers and that innocent look that’s so pure and at the same time so mysterious! I was fighting with my other self. My alter ego…
‘Oh, god…’ I whispered out loud, looking out at the thick clouds from the airplane window.
The man sitting next to me started at me and pulled away alarmed, thinking that I was crazy and justifiably.
When the airplane landed and I disembarked, I took a water taxi. I couldn’t wait to go home and look at that portrait. I was fixated with it! Obsessed!
I opened the front door and Niki came purring to greet me. I picked her up and started to stroke her underneath her neck, making her happy. I then put her down on the rug and ran down to the basement to check on my painting.
I moved the heavy bookcase and lifting the white sheet I was relieved to see Eve, she was there, waiting for me.
I looked at her eyes and kissed her lips, enduring a foul taste of dust and dried paint from the canvas.
“I’m sorry…” I said to the painting, addressing my love.
I was thinking of Camellia every minute, who was drawing me into strange and sinister thoughts, that made me feel like I was cheating on Eve to whom I owed an apology.
I understood that what I was doing was crazy. Insane, but I did it anyway! I knew that my brain could not tolerate any more confusion and it was tormenting me on purpose.
I put the painting where it belonged, pushing it behind the bookcase and I ascended into the living room. I sat on my soft sofa with Niki and reflected on what had happened today until I fell asleep.
I was counting the days and even the hours until the time would come when she would stay here in my house.
From the moment I first held the painting in my hands, I didn’t miss a night that I didn’t look at it, charmed and dazzled by its beauty. It sounds irrational and strange. I had lost control. I couldn’t handle it. That was probably guiding me and not myself…
The day had arrived when Camellia was coming to Venice for a seven day relaxation holiday with her family; insufferable Paul and little Christopher.
They came out of the airport and I was waiting for them filled with joy and willingness to welcome them in my house. Their faces were not what I expected. They didn’t seem happy. They looked angry and gloomy.
Most definitely a big argument had occurred for them to be in such a condition. Besides that, I couldn’t see the little boy anywhere.
They approached and we greeted each other with hugs and kisses and then they announced that they had decided to stay in a hotel!
“No, I can’t allow that. Please. I want you to stay in my house as we had planned,” I said firmly.
“We are disrupting you, Jacques. Let us stay in the hotel and we’ll see,” Camellia said.
“I insist; you’ll stop at my place. Where is Christopher?”
“Christopher is with his grandma. We wanted to come alone and enjoy our trip and relax,” she replied with a smile.
A short discussion followed and after they insisted on staying in a hotel, I let them decide what would make them feel more comfortable. Besides, I had noticed the tension between them and didn’t push them any further.
I walked them to the hotel and they went up to their room to leave their luggage.
I waited for them in the reception so we could go for a morning coffee in beautiful and sunny Venice.
All the time I was waiting for them, I was looking through a magazine, which depicted hotels from all over the world, that was on the table in the lobby and before I could turn the next page I saw Camellia coming out the lift. With a weak smile she approached and stood in front of me and waited.
“So, are we going to go for a coffee?” she asked.
“Yes, I was waiting for you two.”
“Come on.”
“Just the two of us?”
“Yes, Paul is not coming,” she replied, wearing her dark sun glasses.
“I see…” I said satisfied, without asking for the reason.
I really wanted to go somewhere with her and talk. Only her and me.
We went to my favourite place. A small, delightful establishment with a wonderful view and Camellia really liked it. We started chatting and we talked for hours! All the years we hadn’t spoken and hadn’t seen each other, we managed to cover everything today, in this meeting!
She told me about Sebastian’s tragic accident and as I heard her describing it, I felt horrified. I was really upset because he was my best friend and the only person who was really close to me. She also opened up about her husband to me. She hadn’t had a serious relationship for some time, especially after what she’d gone through with her first love, but she had convinced herself that she had to try once more and in that quest, she found, for better or for worse, handsome Paul.
At first she didn’t want him at all. He wasn’t her type. I’d noticed from the first moment I saw them together, because I knew Camellia very well. No way would she fall in love with a narcissist. A man with no humour, pompous and with no manners. They met through a mutual friend and it all started from that point. He told her that he was infatuated with her; he sent her flowers every day and did everything to please her. In the end the baby came and then they decided to get married and live together.
“You are not in love with him, are you?” I asked, looking into her eyes.
“And what’s love, Jacques? And before, when I fell in love, did it make a difference? Love comes and goes and sweeps us away like a strong hurricane; there are moments of weakness that you can’t control. You feel bewitched and you don’t think logically!” she said, tapping the side of her head with her finger.
“You’re right. I don’t believe in love either! There are only moments of enthusiasm and spontaneity. It’s exactly like the grains of sand… you collect in your fist thousands of grains of sand and you believe you are happy and satisfied. But when you try and clench your fist to grip the sand even tighter, it slips away all the more…”
“Precisely! When you think you’re close to having found something ideal for you, you are even closer to losing it. Anyway, enough of me. Have you got used to Venice? Any new girlfriends?” she asked, making me feel a bit uncomfortable. I didn’t answer straight away. I stretched leaning backwards, supposedly to relax.
“I’m used to it here. To be precise I am passionate about Venice. As for a new girlfriend, no. I don’t want one,” I said, lowering my eyes.
“You are not serious! Are you still thinking a
bout her?”
“You don’t understand.”
“Understand what, Jacques? Get over it, sweetheart. Forget about her. She’s married and has a baby now.”
“Does it look like her?” I asked with an expression filled with interest and unease.
“Jacques…Please.”
“Does it look like her?”
“A lot! They look exactly the same…”
“I knew it. I was certain that it was a girl and that it would look like her,” I said, blinking my eyes quickly, stopping the tears before they started appearing.
“You’ll destroy yourself! Take care. Don’t neglect yourself. Get on with your life,” she replied, holding my hand tightly.
“Why? It’s not like I can give myself something pleasant or make myself happier, is it? No. Our personal happiness doesn’t depend on ourselves alone, but on the responses we get from other people and not only on ourselves. Whether it has to do with business affairs or love. So that’s what I’ll do. Someone else will give me my happiness, so I prefer to do things for other people and not for myself. I’ve lived a love and I can’t relive it,” I replied. A pause followed.
“What can I say… the way you put it you are not entirely wrong,” she said sceptically.
“So, to change the subject from our unpleasant conversation, would you like to come and see my house?”
“I would really like to but it’s late. Paul is on his own and we’d had a fight as well, so I don’t know. Definitely some other time.”
“Come on, please. I know your taste and I’m sure you’ll love it,” I said, waiting for her to answer.
She was thinking silently, playing with her ring on her finger.
“Okay, let’s go. It’s not my fault I have a soft spot for you,” she said with a disarming smile.
We started walking side by side and sometimes our hands touched by accident. Even though it happened accidently I can’t deny enjoying it. I sneakily sought for it.
We arrived outside the house and I stood in front of the door, showing it to Camellia. I saw her looking at it with wonder, she was speechless.
Did I Seduce You Mr Jacques Page 8