Beauty and the Dark

by Georgia Le Carre

  The next time I meet Jack I will apologize if I have given the wrong impression, but I am not available. The only relationship I am interested in is friendship. It’s not like he will miss me too much. There must be loads of other women who want him. For a second the unwanted image of Fiona grasping Jack’s hand fills my head.

  Then I push it firmly out of my mind and continue on my way to the toilet.

  Eighteen

  Jack

  I lied. I didn’t have a damn place to be early in the morning. Surgery days are Tuesdays and Thursdays. This way I keep my surgery days when I need a steady hand and a clear head separate from my drinking days. I only have to be at work by mid-morning tomorrow.

  I stalk out of the restaurant with my cock lighting up the inside of my pants. I’ve never wanted a woman the way I want her. With Lana it was mostly a deeply protective instinct. When I think back now it was purely brotherly for ages. In fact, until we were both adults it never even crossed my mind to think of her sexually. Even then it was tenderness and in a wildly romantic way. I dreamed of kissing her in the rain. I thought of myself as her knight in shining armor.

  With Sofia I want to rip her sensible clothes off her and rut with her in the corridor of restaurants. I don’t know what it is about her, but I’m mad for her. She says she’s not interested but I know she wants it too. She feels the same pull. I have no idea where this crazy-mad desire comes from, but fucking hell it’s stronger than me.

  I hail a cab and give him the address of the pub. I shift in my seat to accommodate my erection. I lean back and think of Guy. Fuck, I had to stop myself from punching him one. Who the fuck does he think he is? Pompous prat. He should take care of the sister he’s married to. The next time he gets in my way I won’t be so polite. Actually, I’ll wrench his head off his interfering neck.

  The usual suspects are already clowning around at the bar.

  “Hey, Tommy,” I say dropping down into the last space around the table.

  “Aren’t ye a great little bastard?” he sings, more than half gone.

  We drink steadily for the next couple of hours, but for the first time I don’t get numb. I keep thinking about Sofia. The way she had looked up at me with tears in her eyes. It touched my heart. I can’t even describe how beautiful she looked at that moment. I don’t fucking want to be here. I want to be touching her, kissing her, pleasing her. Inside her.

  Owning her.

  Making her crave me.

  The bell rings to indicate last orders. This is the time when the guys buy three rounds each so we can keep drinking long after drinking hours, but I stand up. Fuck, I’m unsteady on my feet, which means I’ve had even more than I thought.

  “Where you off to?” Yann shouts drunkenly.

  I raise my hand in a kind of farewell gesture and turn away. Weaving my way out of the pub, I push the door open. As I take my first lungful of freezing air, a man detaches himself from the shadows and comes up to me. I blink to clear my vision. Either I’ve drunk so fucking much I’m hallucinating, or Guy is standing in front of me.

  “How did you know where I was?” I slur.

  “Everybody knows where to find you on Tuesday, Friday, Saturday and Sunday nights, Irish,” he says disgustedly.

  Whoa: white fury. My scalp burns. He picked the wrong guy. On the wrong fucking night.

  “I’m not here for a fight,” he says.

  “Well, you’re going about it the wrong way then.”

  “My wife likes you, Irish, so I’m willing to accept that there might be a nice guy hidden somewhere inside the stupid drunk, but here’s fair warning. I’m not going to let you hurt Sofia.”

  All my anger vanishes at his words. I blink stupidly at him. He thinks I’m going to hurt Sofia. What the fuck? “I’m not going to hurt her,” I say, but it comes out so slurred even I can’t make it out.

  He shakes his head as if I revolt him and stabs his finger into my chest. My hand itches to grab his hand and break his fingers, but I resist the crazy urge. This is Sofia’s brother-in-law.

  “Look at you,” he sneers. “You can barely stand. You’ve got everything, talent, looks, money, brains, fame, and you’re just going to piss it all away in some low-life pub, aren’t you?”

  I slap his hand away. “Who the fuck do you think you are? God? This is my fucking life. If I want to piss it all away, what’s it to you?”

  “I’ll tell you who the fuck I am. I’m Sofia’s protector. You get that. Sofia’s father, brother and uncle all rolled into one. You hurt one hair on her head, and I swear I’ll destroy you. You have no idea what you’re dealing with.”

  I start laughing. “Oh yeah?”

  His jaw hardens and I see his hands clench into fists at his sides. “Don’t play with her, Irish. She’s not like other women. She’s been through hell and back and if you’re planning on leading her up the garden path, you better think again because I’ll be damned if I stand by and watch a drunk like you soil a beautiful soul like her.”

  “I care about her,” I shout.

  He eyeballs me. “You don’t care about anybody. How could you? You don’t even care about yourself. You’re an accident waiting to happen. One of these days, some guy’s going to bury his knife in your chest, and it’s going to be the end of Jack Irish. And pity anybody who loves you.”

  He’s a big guy, but I’m a street fighter, and even pissed out of my head, I can take him down. It will be a piece of cake, but I don’t. He’s saying and doing the things I should be doing for Sofia. She needs people like him to take care of her. I have a begrudging respect for him for taking the stand he has.

  I collapse against the wall behind me. “Yeah, sure. I’ll stay away from her.”

  “Yeah. I thought so,” he mutters bitterly and turns away.

  I want to call him back. I want to tell him I really care about Sofia, but he’s right. Even totally smashed, I know he’s right. I’m no good for her.

  A man like me shouldn’t even look at a woman like her. Someone like her needs a kind man. A man who is capable of love. Not someone without hope. Not the walking dead.

  I look through the window into the pub. At all the other drunk men. They are laughing and talking loudly. But for the first time I see their unhappiness. Every one of them is a lost soul. Sure, they don’t have my millions, but I am as lost as they are.

  God, how did I come to be in this place?

  I stand up unsteadily and stumble into the darkness.

  Nineteen

  Sofia

  After my decision to have Jack in my life only as a friend I get some peace. Not as much as I’d hoped, but some. A part of me takes a step back and starts to think of him as an unattainable object. Like the Princes in the fables my mother read to us.

  I spend my days with Mika and Irina and I go for long walks alone at dawn. A couple of times I go without shoes on the snow, but so long has passed since I did that with Master Yeshe I can no longer bear the cold and have to abandon the practice. That must have been a special time when I was a different person.

  As I walk in the woods or fields leaving my footprints in the pristine snow, my heart never stops feeling heavy at the thought of giving Jack up. Sometimes I look towards the heavens, remember how far I have come, and try to feel grateful for everything I have. There is a little piece of wisdom Master Yeshe told me to tell myself when things got too difficult to handle.

  This too will pass.

  Every time my thoughts wander incessantly back to Jack, I repeat the four words like a mantra and to a certain extent it helps.

  Finally, an eternity later, Thursday comes around. Just the thought of seeing him again makes my stomach twist, and I try to prepare myself for it by practicing all the different scenarios the meeting could take and the things I could say to him in each setting.

  As we leave the house Lena takes my hands in hers and smiles at me encouragingly, her eyes are so pure and so full of love it actually makes my heart stop pumping so hard.

&n
bsp; No matter what happens I’ll have Lena.

  Jack

  It kills me not to turn up at the center on Thursday. It bothers me so bad I have to cancel all my appointments and take a last minute flight out of England. Ten hours later I land in sunny Nassau. My clothes start sticking to me even before I reach the air-conditioned taxi.

  “Where to?” the driver asks.

  “Surprise me,” I tell him.

  He laughs and puts his foot on the gas. The taxi lurches away from the curb. I love islanders. Say that to a British cab driver and he’ll look at you as if you’re mad. We drive by old colonial Georgian buildings in pastel colors, over two bridges, and stop in front of a dock. The driver turns to me grinning broadly, his teeth gleaming whiter than a toothpaste advert.

  “The boat will take you to Sivananda Yoga Ashram Retreat.”

  “What the?” I begin to say.

  “You have no bag,” he says by way of explanation.

  I realize it is perfect. This is exactly what I need to recharge. I add a hefty tip to his fare and get out of the cab. Instantly I smell the salt in the sea breeze and know I have made the right decision.

  When I arrive at the resort I am greeted by happy, helpful staff. It is considered low season and very quiet so I get an ocean front chalet with an amazing view of the beach. The peaceful energy of the place extends to my living accommodation. It is clean, the bed is comfortable, and the air conditioning works adequately.

  I go for a swim in the gloriously azure sea. Floating in the calm water I can see groups of people meditating and others contorting into distressingly complicated yoga poses. Watching their serene faces I know that here I will detox the poisons from my soul and heal myself before I go back to claim my woman.

  After a surprisingly good vegetarian meal of quinoa and roasted vegetables washed down with tea (at least that is what they call a cup of lukewarm water with a slice of orange and a couple of cloves thrown into it) I go to lay on the cool sand. As I listen to the steady sound of waves breaking on the beach, I come to a startling conclusion. I don’t need healing. I don’t need fucking anything. I already have everything I want.

  All I need now is Sofia.

  I take the boat out to the mainland and walk into a bar. It has a good lively atmosphere. Big fans everywhere, lots of tourists in colorful clothes, and a bustling waiting staff. I order a beer and it arrives with lovely condensation on the bottle. Even with all the fans it’s still hot in the bar. I stare at it and think of my hand curling around the cold surface, the cool liquid slipping down my throat after the god awful “tea” from the canteen. I don’t need it and I don’t want it.

  “It’s a beer, not a snake,” a heavily accented female voice says next to me.

  I turn to look at her. Young, very young. Messy blonde curls. Tanned, friendly blue eyes, white shorts … and long athletic legs. My money would be on an Australian backpacker out for a shoe-string night of free drinks and fun. Just the kind of girl I would have normally gone for.

  “I wasn’t sure. Thanks for the tip,” I say, and start to walk out of the bar.

  “If you’re not having it, can I?” the blonde shouts over the noise.

  “Knock yourself out, sweetheart,” I call without turning around.

  I know what I want and it is back home in England.

  Twenty

  Sofia

  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZNr2XyEawig

  (Unbreak My Heart)

  It’s impossible to describe my disappointment when I finished my class and opened the corridor door to find Lena standing alone by the foyer talking to Fiona. She turns to look at me and straightaway she sees that I am devastated. I know I told myself all week that I didn’t want to have a relationship with him, that it would never work, I’d only break my heart. But when he did not turn up, my heart broke anyway.

  For the rest of the week I go through the motions. I walk, I talk, I eat, but my whole being is waiting for Thursday to come. I’m waiting for that moment when my class will end and I walk down the corridor, open the door, and see Jack standing there in work clothes, telling me he’s starving and asking if I want to join him for a burger at his friend’s café.

  Then Thursday comes. I dress in a black top, blue jeans, black boots and an oversized coat. It’s a modern, trendy look. Lena can carry it off no problem, but I don’t know that I have.

  Anyway, Lori doesn’t turn up and I take it as a bad omen. When my class ends and my students leave, I put on my coat, gather my things, and begin to walk down the corridor.

  For the first time it seems endless.

  I reach the door and my heart is like a stone in my chest. It doesn’t matter if he is not there, I tell myself. It’s not the end of the world. It’ll probably be a blessing in disguise. It was always wrong anyway. I lift my hand and push the door. It swings open and I walk through it.

  Oh. My. God.

  He’s there. Talking to Lena. He is laughing at something she said. When the door swings open he lifts his head and looks straight at me. And smiles. There is something different about him. My knees are like jelly. His eyes travel down my body. I’m so happy my heart feels as if it will jump right out of my chest.

  His eyes never leave me as I walk to him.

  “Hey,” he says softly.

  I can’t speak. I smile a stupid, happy, crazy grin.

  “You hungry?” he asks.

  I nod, still too overwhelmed to speak.

  Suddenly I become aware that my sister’s mouth is next to my ear.

  “I’ll go back with Guy now and I’ll send Robert to pick you up from the apartment tomorrow at lunchtime, okay?”

  For a second her words don’t make sense and I stare at her with surprise. Then it hits me. This is going to be my first night of independence. I’ll be like any other woman on a date with a man. She wants me to have choices. I can say goodnight to him at the door or invite him in for coffee.

  My sister holds my gaze, her eyes steady and strong. God, I love my sister so much it makes me want to cry to think that I am always the cause of unhappiness in her life. I smile at her. I make my smile confident and carefree. I’ll be fine, my smile says. Slowly she smiles back.

  I love you, she mouths in Russian.

  Me too, I mouth back in Russian.

  Then she turns to Jack. “Well, I should be going. You will take care of my Sofia, won’t you?” Her voice trembles.

  “With my life,” Jack tells her.

  She nods. Wrought with emotion she turns away blindly and heads towards the entrance. The door closes on her as I watch.

  “She has nothing to worry about. I’ll never hurt you,” Jack says softly.

  I look up at him. His eyes are intense and serious. He has no idea how much I hope and pray that is true.

  “Come on,” he says, his hand on the small of my back gently guiding me in the direction of the door. As we get out I see Lena sitting in the backseat, the car is turning away, and she is staring ahead, lost in thought.

  “Where are we going?” I ask as we walk towards Jack’s car.

  “You’ll see,” he says mysteriously.

  He parks the car on the same street as before and we walk up the road. He doesn’t hold my hand, but it is obvious we are together by the looks of the women who pass us by. They look at him then their eyes slide down to me. After a while I start to glow with pride and happiness. I can’t believe that a hunk like Jack would actually want to go out with me.

  We walk past his friend’s burger place. I look through the glass window and see that it is empty. The waitress is sitting on a table laughing while Paddy speaks animatedly and gestures with his long limbed body. We carry on down the road until Jack comes to a stop in front of McDonalds.

  I laugh. “Seriously?”

  “Yeah. I’ll poison myself for you,” he says, and pulls open the door.

  It is empty but for a table with two young girls who seem to be already mothers with prams pushed up to their table and another
table with kids still in their school uniforms.

  They wave at Jack and he smiles and nods back. We walk up to the counter and join the shortest queue. There is only one person ahead of us. I steal a glance at him and he is looking up at the menu with a I-don’t-believe-I’m-doing-this look on his face. It’s actually a very sexy look, but it also makes me want to giggle. As the server rings up the customer’s order I poke Jack in his stomach. It’s like poking wood!

  “Last chance to back out,” I tease.

  He looks down at me and grins. “Don’t worry about me. At least I’ll die happy.”

  Like a fool I go a horrible shade of red, the burn blasting up my neck and into my cheeks.

  His eyes twinkle with amusement.

  “Can I help you?” the cashier asks.

  Awkwardly, I take the two steps that bring me to the counter.

  The server looks bored. “What can I get you today?”

  “A cheese burger, one chicken McNuggets, one large fries, an Oreo McFlurry and a strawberry Milkshake.”

  “And what about you, Sir?”

  “A Big tasty, medium fries, side salad, and a Coke,” he says.

  Our food is loaded onto two trays and we carry it to a table in a corner.

  I survey all the packages in front of me with satisfaction. From now on when someone talks about getting a McDonalds I’ll know what they’re talking about.

  Twenty-one

  Jack

  I watch her surveying all the packages in front of her with a child’s delight, and I want to hunt down and kill those people who hurt her. How could anyone even think of hurting such an innocent and vulnerable creature? I understand why her sister and Guy guard and protect her almost obsessively.

  Her delicate hands reach for the little cartons of sauces first. She has ordered three different types and she peels the tops off them and lays them in a row on the table. Then she opens the box of chicken nuggets.

  “Bon appetite,” I say softly, curious to see how she plans to fit all this food into her tiny body.