Only the Strongest Survive

by Ian Fox

  She was so frightened that she got dizzy. He glued himself to her back, squeezing her so strongly that she couldn’t move. She lay in his arms like a mummy, stiff from head to toe.

  “John, no!”

  “Sor-sorry, Emely,” he stammered, and she realized that his voice was full of pain. “I promise not to hurt you.”

  When she felt his warm, naked body against hers, she shuddered at first, but then had to admit that it excited her as well. Despite that, she said, “No, John, you must leave immediately.”

  As he moved she felt the hair on his chest tickling her back. A wave of arousal traveled throughout her body. She couldn’t remember how long it had been since she was with a man.

  “I’ll stay just a few minutes. I need your closeness.” He began crying again.

  She felt relief and lay there perfectly still, waiting for him to calm down. She didn’t want to give him the slightest encouragement.

  Like he promised, he kissed her neck after five minutes and left the room in silence.

  Emely’s body was like a bomb ready to go off. She could feel her heart pounding as if she had just run a marathon. Everything was wrong. Her head was throbbing, her cheeks felt red-hot, all her organs worked at double speed—as if she had taken a drug. Her body was thrown out of balance. As she moved she noticed that her breasts were hard. So hard that her nipples hurt when she touched them.

  She got up and went to the basin. Two glasses of cold water put out some of the fire raging inside her.

  After half an hour she was calmer, but not enough to go to sleep. She kept tossing and turning until the morning, in the hope of getting at least an hour or two of sleep.

  John, on the other hand, fell asleep like a baby as soon as his head hit the pillow. His breathing was calm and he felt no pain in his stomach. His lips wore a gentle smile, all the tension gone.

  *

  In the morning, Emely was not pleased with her appearance. Dark circles were clearly visible under her eyes and the lines on her face indicated lack of sleep. At least, she thought so. Quickly she applied some moisturizer and makeup.

  Every time she thought of John coming to her, the speed of her heartbeat doubled. How dare he come to my room at night! She decided to tell him off, but at the same time she was afraid he wouldn’t listen.

  He appeared just after she’d applied her makeup. He was smiling and in a good mood, as usual.

  When he came in he greeted her in a loud voice and before she was able to move away, he kissed her on the right cheek. Then he picked up Kitty and walked upstairs without saying a word. Emely followed, confused.

  *

  She recovered slightly after their morning coffee and was ready to bring up the unpleasant subject of his unannounced visit. Angry, she wanted to say a few harsh words to him. But the harder she tried to begin, the more problems she encountered in finding the right words. In the end, she gave up and focused on Kitty.

  “The poor thing needs a brush. Little seeds are starting to collect in her fur.”

  John smiled kindly. “I’ll pop into town this afternoon and buy one.”

  *

  More than a week had passed since his unpleasant visit. Emely had problems sleeping, afraid that he’d again surprise her in her bed. But John never came close in any way, other than to take her hand once or twice during a walk. At first she told him off and withdrew her hand, but later stopped doing this with the explanation that though she was letting him hold her hand, it signified no more than friendship. He was happy and looked forward to the walks that sometimes lasted as long as two hours, during which he was able to touch her. Like young lovers they walked hand in hand, chatting about this and that. With time, she got used to being held and it stopped bothering her.

  Chapter 13

  _______________________

  Sally Kirk was relaxing in a Jacuzzi with her eyes closed, purring like a cat. Jets of hot water massaged alternate parts of her body. I’ll pop to the sauna after this, she thought.

  With her right hand she searched for the control panel in order to increase the strength of the jets, when she heard the phone ringing in the distance. Damn it, does it have to ring just now? Who could it be? She turned the Jacuzzi off and put on a bathrobe. Maybe it’s Joe, she thought happily, and ran to the phone.

  “What? A journalist from News Continental, did you say? And what do you want?” She had had enough of journalists. They were all interested in one thing only—Emely Donnovan. “You’d like to write a story about Emely’s friends?” Emely’s friends? Meaning me? “Of course you can come. … In an hour. … See you.” Hmm, he had such a deep, velvety voice.

  She ran to the bathroom like an antelope and quickly began drying her long, thick, curly hair. At the age of thirty-seven, she had already had two plastic surgery operations: the first to enlarge and firm up her breasts, and the second to remove the first signs of ageing from her face. Many men still considered her a real beauty.

  Sally owned an office block in the center of Chicago, left to her by her late father. The rent itself allowed her to live more than luxuriously. She liked the advantages brought by money and she enjoyed her life to the full.

  She put on a satin dress and let her hair down. As she was applying taupe shadow over her green eyes, the doorbell rang. After quickly refreshing her mascara, she was at the door.

  “My name is Robert Miles and I work for News Continental.” He showed her his card.

  “Yes, yes, come in.” She pointed to the huge leather armchairs. “Whiskey, gin, cognac, or perhaps something more exotic?”

  “Whiskey, please.” With admiration he looked around her apartment. Robert guessed the large room measured over seven hundred square feet. Floor-to-ceiling windows on all sides offered a great view. The dark furniture and minimalist decor was his style.

  Sally flirtatiously swayed to the glass cabinet containing over forty different alcoholic drinks.

  “You see, Emely didn’t have a great many friends. In fact, she really only had me,” she said.

  Robert pulled a small recorder out of his pocket and pressed the record button. He nodded to Sally.

  “I met her immediately after she was released from that miserable Catholic school. Heavens, it seems like a hundred years have passed since.” She sat in an armchair that was close to the one Robert occupied and looked admiringly at his large, hairy arms. “Working as a journalist must be fascinating,” she said politely.

  “It is, but often also very tiring. It requires your full attention if you want to write a strong article.” He smiled at her. “People are tired of everyday events and want slightly more shocking news.”

  “Such as?”

  “For example, an article about any sort of criminal act will attract even the laziest reader, while something about a newly built school in East Chicago doesn’t get much attention. Do you see what I’m trying to say?”

  Sally nodded calmly. “I get it.”

  Robert grabbed his glass and downed its contents in a single gulp.

  Sally jumped up and brought over the bottle. Then she remembered the silver dish filled with ice. Before pouring more whiskey in his glass, she said, “Let me get—”

  But Robert went on as if he hadn’t heard her. “Besides, there’s always the pressure of deadlines.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “When something happens, journalists attack it like hyenas. An article needs to be written in the shortest possible time. You know the saying: First come, first served. This means we often have to work until the early hours.”

  The ringing of a phone echoed around the room.

  As Sally walked toward it, Robert watched, open-mouthed, amazed at her perfect figure. When she bent over to pick up the cell phone, his eyes traveled from the deep cleavage to her firm, pert bottom. On the other hand, my work does have some advantages, he thought.

  “Joe … tonight? No, sorry, I can’t make it.” She stared ahead in a weary manner. “No, Mike, sorry, but no. I�
��m not feeling very good. … Bye.” She put the phone down.

  “I’m sorry. Please, go on. I’ve always found journalistic work very attractive,” she said, deliberately flattering him. Once more she sat next to him, even closer this time. She refilled his empty glass without asking. “I’m sure that as a journalist you’ve found yourself in awkward or even dangerous situations. Tell me more about that. When I get to know you better, I’ll be able to tell you more about myself and, of course, Emely. Are you married?” she asked him.

  “Not anymore. My wife left me a year ago.”

  She smiled pleasantly. “So you have already encountered a dangerous situation?” she asked.

  “I don’t think there’s a journalist who has not been in danger at least once in his life. Especially when young and ambitious.”

  Sally sat down, rested her head on her hand, and listened intently.

  “Over ten years ago I was working for another news company. There was a strong earthquake in Karabuk, Turkey. The whole town was in ruins. A journalist who dares go to a place like that and report directly from the disaster scene can reap high rewards.”

  “And then while you were there, there was another earthquake?”

  “No, the aftershocks stopped very quickly. But there was total anarchy in the town. While I was taking pictures of the terrible scenes, four men were watching me. On the basis of the latest equipment I was using they probably assumed I had plenty of money. They beat me up so badly that doctors in the hospital initially thought I was an earthquake victim.”

  “Oh dear,” Sally said, taking a long sip of her drink. “And have you reported from a war scene?”

  “Of course. I was in Croatia when it was attacked by the Serbs. My life wasn’t in danger, but I certainly saw plenty of horrific scenes. OK, enough about me, now it’s your turn.”

  “I, hmmm ….” She adjusted her hair.

  “Where did you meet Emely?”

  “I’ve known her for a long time. Yes, a very long time.” Realizing she’d divulge her age if she emphasized how long ago she first met Emely, Sally added, “Well, not that long, really, you know how quickly time goes. We were nineteen when we met. We were both very poor.” She grimaced as if seeing something disgusting.

  “Emely inherited some money from her mother, but she barely touched it. What I’m trying to say is that we were both dependent on a very meager monthly income. I come from a rich family, but because I didn’t want to do what my father wanted me to, the bastard left me without a penny for over eight years. Just imagine living for eight years as poor as a church mouse.” She spontaneously touched his leg.

  “But in fact I’m now very grateful to my father for that terrible period. I learned how to survive.” She picked up a pack of cigarettes and offered him one.

  “No, thank you,” he said, and lit hers with her gold-sequined lighter.

  She inhaled the smoke, looked away, and her mind wandered back twenty years as she exhaled slowly. “You should have seen her, waiting there at the employment agency.”

  “Who?”

  “Emely, of course. She immediately attracted my attention. She was wearing an old velvet dress, green. Her long straight hair reached down to her waist. Her cheeks were red and round—the picture of health. We were exchanging a few friendly words when someone called her name from inside the office ….”

  *

  “Sit down, please.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Your résumé says you went to St. Nicholas Catholic School. Does that mean you speak fluent Spanish and French?”

  “Yes.”

  “Perhaps we have something for you. A stockbroking company is looking for a secretary. I’m afraid the salary is on the low side.”

  “I’ll take it,” Emely said enthusiastically.

  “Good. I’ll arrange an interview for ten o’clock tomorrow morning.”

  “Great.”

  The woman gave Emely the names of the company and its human resources manager.

  “You don’t know how grateful I am,” Emely said.

  “Good luck, Miss Donnovan.”

  Emely nearly ran into the tall, slim girl standing at the door, whose turn was next. “Good luck,” Emely wished her earnestly.

  The girl was Sally Kirk, who was unable to sit from nervousness and was biting her nails. Emely nodded to her encouragingly.

  “I’ll need luck,” Sally said.

  Ten minutes later, Sally was out of the office.

  “I got an interview at a restaurant,” she shouted joyfully, and the others still waiting cheered.

  “Why don’t we celebrate with a cheeseburger and a Coke at McDonald’s?” said Emely, who sat there as if she had nowhere else to go.

  “A wonderful idea,” Sally said.

  Emely was honest, spontaneous, and full of energy. They immediately liked each other.

  “I’m completely new in this town,” Emely said, eating her french fries.

  “Me too,” Sally said.

  “Have you found somewhere to live yet?”

  “No, I was just going to start now.”

  “But that’s great,” Emely said. “We could look for somewhere to share.”

  “Super, let’s start immediately.”

  *

  When they walked into the first apartment, they were greeted by a short woman with an Italian accent.

  “You look a bit young, signorinas,” she said hesitantly. “You haven’t escaped from some institution for young delinquents, have you?”

  “No, don’t worry,” Sally said confidently.

  Emely was shocked and horrified at such a direct question.

  “Well, come in then.”

  They were both pleasantly surprised at the apartment. Although the kitchen was small, it was clean and in good condition. The owner showed them two reasonably sized rooms, furnished with all the essentials: a bed, two closets, and a table. They approvingly looked at the two rooms and became emotionally attached to the apartment.

  “I like it a lot,” said Emely, who had never before lived in a private apartment. “The furniture is in good condition and the walls look freshly painted.”

  Sally shrugged. She was used to expensive furniture and spacious rooms, but was aware that she couldn’t afford anything like that.

  “The bastard,” she said quietly, thinking of her father. Then she pulled Emely’s sleeve, indicating she should stop praising the place since this would make the owner think she could increase the rent. “And what about the heating? Do the radiators work?” she said quickly.

  The owner replied in a satisfied voice, “Of course they do. We changed them only in July, so you’ll definitely not get cold.”

  “And what about the rent?” Sally asked next.

  Emely stood there perfectly still, unfamiliar with the real world. Until then, she had done nothing but pray and listen to the nuns’ sermons. No one had taught her how to negotiate.

  “You pay a month in advance, two hundred and sixty dollars a month.”

  “That’s too much,” Sally said. She pulled Emely’s hand to indicate they were leaving.

  “The lowest I can offer is two hundred and twenty.”

  Emely and Sally smiled at each other and nodded to say that they would take the apartment.

  “Oh, and what about the bathroom?” Sally asked, suddenly remembering.

  The owner nodded and opened a door to show them a small room with a toilet in it.

  “Great, that’s the toilet, but what about the bathroom?”

  The woman began shuffling from foot to foot.

  “Signorina, there’s no problem. You can have a wash in the kitchen. There’s hot water and—”

  Sally understood immediately. “You’re trying to tell us there’s no bathroom?”

  “Well, no, but as I said, that shouldn’t be a problem,” the owner said.

  Sally looked at Emely, who was visibly disappointed. For years she had been imagining her own bathroom. In the dorm at he
r school she had to wash at the sink every day and only once a week she was allowed to take a shower. She could only dream about lying in a tub of hot water.

  Sally thanked the woman for showing them around and again took Emely’s hand. “The apartment is very nice,” she said, trying to sound pleasant, “but a bathroom means a lot to me personally.”

  The owner moved back, looking disgruntled. “Young people nowadays are so spoiled. You want a luxury apartment for a few dollars a month.”

  “But ….” Emely said, unused to such outbursts.

  “No buts. The more I offer, the worse it is. I’m surprised you didn’t ask if there’s a Jacuzzi and perhaps even a garden.”

  When Sally saw the confused expression on Emely’s face as she looked at the impudent woman, Sally could no longer help herself and burst out laughing.

  “And now you laugh. How rude!”

  The woman walked behind Emely, and Sally had a feeling she would grab her at any moment.

  “Only yesterday in a small room and today they want a huge apartment with all the modern cons. No modesty ….”

  “Thank you and goodbye,” Emely said when they were stepping out of the apartment.

  “Thanks for nothing,” the owner said.

  Emely looked back at the door that had slammed shut and then at Sally, whose eyes were watering from all the laughter. Emely burst out laughing as well. They laughed until their stomachs began to hurt.

  “And we nearly paid her in advance,” Sally said.

  *

  Sally leaned back and sighed. “Oh, to be young again.” She sat up and asked in a calm voice, “Would you like another drink, Robert? You don’t mind if we use first names, do you?”

  “Of course not, I was going to suggest it myself, but thought it might not be appropriate,” Robert said.

  He was a bit dizzy but didn’t know whether it was from the whiskey or her perfume. Sally took another sip and went back to the past.