Supersonic

by Anouschka Zagorski

  “I had to get rid of the contacts, I brushed my teeth and took mouth rinse,” he explained.

  “Aw, that looks cute. I like attractive men who wear glasses. It makes them look so intellectual and so vulnerable at the same time.”

  “I’m glad you like it.” He took my hand and led me back through the living room into his bedroom. “Will you stay here? I don’t want you to leave.” He nuzzled his face like a puppy into the nook of my neck.

  “That tickles!” I laughed. “Alright, alright. My babysitter is staying over at our house anyway, but I must be home before the girls wake up.”

  “Good. Then get undressed,” he grinned.

  “Hey!” I protested, laughing. “No funny business! You must sleep it off, mister!”

  “I’m not that drunk anymore.” He pulled me towards him and kissed me.

  When you have just fallen head over heels in love then even drunken lovemaking is wonderful. Already high on adrenaline with intense feelings of tenderness and intimacy you hardly realise the added intoxication by alcohol. Or do you maybe mix up one with the other? In the early hours of the morning I got up and got dressed quietly so as not to wake him. He was curled up under the duvet and looked so peaceful. I planted a light kiss on his cheek and tiptoed out of the apartment, closing the door with as little noise as possible.

  * * *

  Back at home, everybody was also still asleep. I decided to take advantage of the peace and quiet and went back to bed, too. I woke up several hours later to a strange sensation in my face. I opened my eyes and looked into Marie’s smiling face on the pillow next to mine. She giggled. “Hello, Mumma.”

  “Hm, good morning my angel. Did you just blow in my face?” I tapped lightly on her nose.

  “He-he. Only a little. Noëlle told me to wake you up.”

  “Okay, it worked,” I laughed. “I’m awake. Come here for a cuddle.” I opened my arms.

  She obliged willingly. I inhaled the baby shampoo scent of her long curly hair and covered her head with kisses. Noëlle came in to the bedroom, balancing a tray. “Good morning, Mummy!”

  “Good morning my darling! Oh, is that coffee?” I sat up, Marie still clinging on to me.

  “Yes, with hot milk, just as you like it, and I made toast with Nutella for all of us so we can have breakfast in your bed,” she replied, beaming with pride.

  “I am so impressed! You are such a brilliant girl!”

  “Jana helped me - but just a little bit.”

  “How nice of her. Is she still here?”

  “No, she went home.”

  “Well, then, take off your slippers and come in! Let’s have a picnic in my bed!”

  “Yay!” Marie cried. Noëlle handed me the tray and climbed on to the bed. She sat cross-legged at the foot of the bed so that I could place the tray on the duvet in the middle.

  “Yummy! What a good idea, my love. Toast with Nutella - this is exactly what I fancied right now!” Noëlle took one slice in her hand and bit off a small piece.

  “Did you have a nice party last night?” she asked after she had stopped chewing.

  I nodded. “Very nice. Do you remember the beach party?”

  “Yeah, that was so cool with the chocolate fountain!”

  “And there was this boy we played with,” Marie added. “He dug himself in the sand, remember Noëlle?”

  “Yeah, he was funny,” she agreed.

  “Right, that boy - Antonio? He was there with his daddy - you met him, too.”

  “Ah yes. He brought us ice cream cones when we were playing in the sand,” Noëlle said.

  “Did he? You hadn’t told me about that. Well, that was nice of him. Anyway, he was at that party last night, too. Hey - I just had this idea - why don’t we invite Antonio and his dad to our house?”

  Noëlle weighed the question. “Okay. I don’t mind. We could show him our new Wii.”

  Marie, having watched her sister for a cue, quickly added “yes, me too!”

  “Great! I’ll call him.” I picked up my mobile and dialled Jacob’s number. He picked up after three ringtones.

  “Hi! Good morning,” he said softly.

  “Hi! Did I wake you?”

  “Actually, my alarm just went off. I have to get up soon, to go and pick up my son from his mother’s house. I didn’t hear you leave. It must have been very early this morning.”

  “It was.” I glanced at the girls who were listening attentively. I cleared my throat. “Anyway. I’m here with my daughters having breakfast, and we were wondering whether you and Antonio would like to come over this afternoon. We’ve got a new Wii and lots of games.”

  “That’s a good idea.” He paused. “I’ll check with him but I’m sure he would like to. I’ll find a way. I also definitely want to see you.”

  “Hm. Yes. I agree,” I replied casually. “Fine then. Shall we say around three?”

  “Perfect. Text me the address.”

  “Will do. We’ll see you later then!” I put the phone back on my nightstand and turned back to the girls. “So they’re coming around later. That’ll be fun! Shall we bake a cake together?”

  “Can I lick the bowl?” Marie asked. “No, I want to!” Noëlle protested and nudged her. “You always eat all the batter!”

  “Mumma!” Marie whined.

  “Girls! Calm down, you two. Honestly! When we finish the mix I will scrape the bowl with two big spoons and you can each have one. Alright?”

  “OK”. Marie exchanged glances with her sister.

  “Good. Let’s finish this wonderful breakfast that Noëlle prepared, then I’ll take a shower and we can get started on that cake.”

  No sooner said than done. Just before three o’clock, Jacob texted me: we’re on our way. I positioned myself at the kitchen window from where I had a good view of the street. When I spotted Jacob’s black Beetle convertible I opened the window and waived at them. “Hello! We’re here! You can park behind my car!”

  Antonio waived back enthusiastically. Jacob turned onto our driveway and stopped the car. Antonio jumped out and ran up the stairs to our front door where I was waiting.

  “Wow, your house is huge!” he exclaimed.

  I laughed. “Hi Antonio. Come in. Yes, it is quite spacious. Ah, here are the girls. Marie, Noëlle, come and say hi.”

  “Do you know Wii?” Marie asked him.

  “Sure,” he answered casually. “We’ve got one at my mum’s house.”

  “We’ve got Cars, Wii Play and Wii Sports,” Noëlle said.

  Jacob appeared at the door. “Hi! Hi, Chloé.” He quickly winked at me. “Hi girls. Nice to see you again. Thanks for having us over. We brought you something.” He held up a colourful paper bag. “I wasn’t sure whether you’d prefer chocolate or gummi bears so we got both. Of course ask your mum first whether you may eat them.”

  “We like both.” Noëlle said, took the bag and peered inside. “Yummy, kinder chocolate! Thank you!”

  “Of course you can have them,” I confirmed. “Thank you both.”

  “We baked a cake!” Marie announced.

  “That sounds wonderful!” Jacob said and squatted down to her. “Now why don’t you and your sister show Antonio around and I can help your mum in the kitchen?” Marie studied his eyes and nodded. “Okay.”

  As the three trotted off, Jacob whispered in my ear. “Look at them. Marie is so tall - from behind the three of them look like they are the same age. We could be like Brad and Angelina with all those kids.”

  “They do look cute together,” I admitted.

  “Like a real little family,” he added and squeezed my hand.

  Maybe it was this remark that made me sit down at my computer, after they had left in the evening. I wanted to search the Internet for weekend trip
s. The autumn school break was only a few weeks away and Marie and Noëlle were going to go to Paris to see Jean. So Paris was out of the question. Suddenly I knew where I wanted to go with Jacob. I had never been to Rome; he had been there a few times. He was the right man to show me Rome.

  I decided to surprise him. I knew I’d be taking the risk that he might have to cancel because of work commitments. On the other hand his boss Gunther White seemed fairly laid back and didn’t expect him to work at weekends. As far as I was concerned, I would manage my work if necessary by putting in overtime beforehand.

  The next day, after having lodged my day off request and asked Mike for hotel recommendations, I booked the flights and a small hotel near the Spanish steps. Mike had just been to Rome and lent me two guidebooks, marked with his recommendations for eating out.

  I printed out the etickets, cut out the itinerary and glued it onto a postcard showing a painting by Monet of Venice in the sunset. It was not Rome but at least conveyed the right atmosphere. I wrote on the picture (thinking of the Norah Jones song) ‘Come away with me...’ and above the itinerary on the other side ‘...to Rome’. Underneath I stuck a picture of the hotel I had printed out from the Internet.

  That evening - the girls were already in bed and asleep - Jacob sat on my sofa with a glass of red wine.

  “Here.” I handed him the card.

  He looked at the postcard, frowning. “Come away with me?” He was puzzled. “What does this mean?”

  “Turn it around!”

  He did as he was told and continued reading. His facial expression changed from confused to incredulous and then to joyous.

  “You want to go to Rome with me?”

  “Yes! I’ve never been. I always saved Rome for a very special trip.”

  I was relieved. He seemed to like his surprise. He pressed me against him. “That is so sweet, baby. You are really perfect. I am starting to believe I should marry you.”

  What? My heart seemed to stop. I giggled nervously. He could hardly have meant that. Or could he? My heart started beating again, but now faster. He noticed my hesitation. He took my face into his hands and looked at me.

  “Would you say yes if I asked you?”

  “There is only one way to find out,” I evaded the answer.

  He grinned. “That’s true.”

  He studied the card again. “This is really such a wonderful idea. Hang on. Oh bugger. Chloé, that Monday is Antonio’s birthday and the return flight would get us here after five p.m. It’s not going to work.”

  I crashed straight from my romantic high into the cold reality. Well, it would have been too good to be true, wouldn’t it? I tried to hide my disappointment. “Oh. OK. We could take an earlier flight back.”

  “No, no. I was going to spend the afternoon with him, in particular because I’m not going to have him that weekend.”

  “I see. What about the weekend before that? Maybe I can change the booking.”

  “Let me check.” He consulted his blackberry. “Yes, that should be fine. Look, I’m really sorry but surely you can change the booking.”

  “Yeah. Sure. I understand. It’s Antonio’s birthday. I’ll change it tomorrow.”

  For him, that seemed to be the end of it.

  I was able to change the booking but ended up paying nearly double the price. I told myself I would have expected him to do the same thing for me. Jacob was a doting parent who would plan everything around being able to spend time with his son. Unlike some of our other male colleagues who had children, Jacob really seemed to put his child first. He was a responsible father, a good lawyer and a romantic lover.

  Things between us developed very nicely. In the office we kept our relationship a secret, which made it all the more exciting. We had much fun taking the same lift by feigned coincidence, stealing kisses when we were unobserved and shooting each other secretive glances when hanging out for a coffee with our colleagues. Sometimes we would even meet at his apartment for a tête-à-tête in our lunch hour. At home, he would join me and the girls for dinner whenever he could and bring Antonio with him at the weekends.

  * * *

  When, a few weeks later, we arrived in Rome and drove in a taxi from Fiumicino to the Via Flavia, I happily breathed the still warm air through the open window and pointed at the palm trees by the roadside.

  “Oh look how lovely! Palm trees!”

  “Just wait until you see Rome. It is the most beautiful city in the world. I have already planned some lovely walks. We’ll start at the Spanish Steps, then pass the Fontana di Trevi and end up at the Pantheon. Close to the Pantheon there are some traditional restaurants where we can overindulge on pasta and Chianti.”

  “That sounds wonderful. I would also really like to see the Vatican and the Colosseum and Forum Romanum, tomorrow or the day after. Also if possible - but only if you don’t mind - walk down the Via Condotti. I don’t necessarily have to shop!”

  He laughed.

  “Of course. You can do whatever you like and, by the way, I also like to go shopping in Rome,” he winked at me.

  I was happy. It had been the right decision to visit Rome with Jacob. Just like me he seemed to appreciate the right combination of sightseeing, culinary delights and shopping. I rejoiced inside. Prada, Gucci, Dolce & Gabbana! I’m coming!

  Rome exceeded all my expectations. It was overwhelming to finally view the historical sites and feel the pulse of the city for real, after having only seen or read about it in movies, pictures and books. With every minute I felt closer to Jacob. He was a resourceful guide and kept stopping here and there to show me something special or just to kiss me. By the Fontana di Trevi he took a selfie with his mobile of us kissing. That turned out so nice that afterwards we continued to apply that technique and made numerous selfies of us kissing in front of Rome’s famous monuments. Actually you saw very little of the relevant landmark in the background.

  Saturday was another perfect day. On the way back from the Pantheon I stopped in front of a huge MaxMara boutique. “Oh! I love MaxMara!”

  “Why don’t you go ahead inside? I saw some shoes in that shop over there. I’ll come and find you.”

  I wasn’t listening anymore, as I had already entered the boutique and, mesmerised like a child in a sweet shop, gone straight for the cashmere coats. Then I spotted a gorgeous little black dress, and another one! With matching sandals! Oh and these adorable bolero cardigans!

  “So did you find anything at all?” he grinned when he found me an hour later.

  I looked at my four shopping bags, a little embarrassed.

  “Uhm, yes. A few things. But there is no MaxMara boutique at home and here in Italy it’s so much cheaper!” I justified myself.

  He laughed. “If you bought something dressy, wear it tonight. I have planned a surprise. I don’t know whether it’s going to work out but I hope so.”

  I was thrilled. I couldn’t have planned it any better!

  We returned to our hotel. Post-shopping lovemaking felt like having your cake and eating it. Later we called our respective children and got ready for the evening. When I finally emerged from the bathroom, all made up and wearing my new MaxMara dress, he nodded with appreciation.

  “That really is a beautiful dress. In fact I’d like to rip it right off you again but we’ve got to go. The concierge called - our taxi is here.”

  I picked up my Damier Ebène Speedy that did not go with the dress but had enough space for the guidebook. I had only taken one handbag on the trip and chosen Louis Vuitton as I figured the pickpockets might not be interested in it as it could be one of the many copies one could buy illegally on the streets of Rome.

  “OK. I’m ready.”

  We took the lift downstairs. This time he did not kiss me. He looked at his watch several times and checked the knot of his tie.


  When we stepped out of the hotel the doorman opened the taxi door for me. “Buona serata, signora.”

  “Grazie.” I got in. Jacob followed on the other side.

  “All Saints Church, Via del Babuino,” he instructed the driver.

  “Va bene, signore.”

  “A church? At this hour?”

  He grinned nervously. “Just wait. I hope it will be a good surprise.”

  A short ride later the taxi stopped at a neo-Gothic church made out of brick. The way to the portal was lit. Jacob took me by the hand. Next to the portal an old lady was sitting behind a foldable table on which some brochures were fanned out.

  “Two tickets please,” he asked.

  I curiously studied the brochure entitled Accademia d’Opera Italiana. Then the coin dropped.

  “They are performing an opera? Here in the church?”

  “Not just any opera, Chloé. La Traviata.”

  He led me inside. Dimmed light shed from the candelabras and the reading lights of the members of the small orchestra in the wing. In front of the altar, which had been covered by a velvet cloth, there was a chaise longue, a table, two chairs - it was the stage set. We found a space on a marble bench. At that moment every little corner of the church began to fill itself with the mesmerising music of the prelude. My scalp started to tingle. Goose bumps spread from the back of my neck to the base of my spine.

  “Good surprise?”

  I nodded and looked at him silently, too moved to talk. I swallowed. “That’s the opera from Pretty Woman.”

  He smiled tenderly. “Yes. Exactly. I know you like that movie.” He took off his coat and put it around my shoulders. “Here. I don’t want you to be cold.”

  I was bowled over - no, more in a state of shock. He had just found a way to the hidden place in my heart. I was no longer able to say anything. At that moment I knew with utter conviction. He loved me.

  * * *

  The next morning I woke up in his arms when the bells of all of Rome’s churches were calling for Sunday mass. I carefully tried to get out of his embrace in order to go and brush my teeth, but he pulled me closer to him with his right hand that was around my shoulder and buried his face on my hair.