The Unforgiven Sin

by R. Twine

  And here was Christmas time. Papa was trying to pass himself off for a real Santa Claus but I, having recognized his shoes, asked him, ‘Dear Santa Claus, why have you put on my dad’s shoes? Don’t you have your own?’

  He answered, somewhat confused, ‘I’ve put them on because I’ve already visited a lot of children, and my old shoes have become shabby. Do you mind?’

  ‘No, I don’t,’ I said.

  His answer seemed to me to be convincing at that time. Engrossed in my Christmas gifts, I didn’t even notice my dad’s absence among the guests.

  The images disappeared for a while, and soon there appeared the contemporary me. I looked at myself from the outside, and noticed that the giggly girl had turned into a wistful teenager with a tinge of sadness on her face. I seldom smiled, and my big green eyes were often full of melancholy and tears.

  Suddenly I saw Tony in front of me.

  ‘Forget about the revenge, Miriam. I’m well-off where I am now,’ he said quietly. ‘I know, you’re going through very hard times, because I virtually died in your arms. But after my death I ended up in another –better – world. Such is my destiny, Miriam. I have to accept this, and you’ll have to do the same thing.’

  ‘Tony,’ I said through the tears, ‘I can’t accept it, I just can’t…’

  Then there was Natalie. She appeared in front of me, and began asking me not to call for Death. There were other unfamiliar people who passed in a row in front of my eyes, asking me imploringly to change my decision.

  ‘Let Tony’s family call for the punishment of his murderers. But you mustn’t ask for it personally,’ they said.

  I turned away without saying a word.

  ‘Are you going to call in the Angel of Death once again?’ asked the Archangel, closing the book.

  ‘Yes, I am,’ I answered.

  ‘All right, Miriam, have it your way,’ said the Archangel, and disappeared.

  The little angel put the bouquet of black roses upon the photo in a magazine featuring the article on Tony’s murder. Looking out of the photo there were two morose teenagers.

  Part 2

  Chapter 18

  Warm wind was blowing through my hair and caressing my body. A see-through cream-colored tunic barely covering my alluring shape fluttered in the breeze, light as breath. A snow-white yacht was flying through the waves like an agile bird, cutting the water with confident ease. I watched the shoreline merging into the distance, and serenity, like warm milk, was flooding my body and warming my heart. I loved the sea for the magic effect it had on me.

  My life, after staging rather rigorous tests for my endurance, had changed very much lately; waking me up to the full measure of power a young and attractive woman can have. Good fortune had come to me, opening all doors and delivering me from mundane worries. Overnight, I turned from a girl in a state of permanent grief into a gorgeous young beauty – confident and strong-willed. I liked the attention that was coming to me from all quarters; people marveled at my beauty. But it wasn’t only my appearance that attracted people’s glances. Apart from beauty, I possessed a special magnetism that had a charming effect upon those around me.

  Having heard a lot of “You look like a real model!” exclamations, I decided - just for the fun of it – to send some of my amateur photos to a famous model agency in Paris. They phoned me three weeks later.

  ‘Good afternoon, this is Ruth Derek. I’d like to talk to Mademoiselle Miriam Henderson,’ a woman’s polite voice said in the receiver.

  ‘Hello, it’s Miriam Henderson speaking.’

  ‘I’m the manager of the Podium Stars model agency. I took an interest in your application. Would you like to come to Paris for an interview?’

  ‘Yes, I would…’

  I went to Nat to share the news.

  ‘I’m going to have an interview in Paris in a week! With a manager of a big modeling agency! She called me so unexpectedly that at first I was at a loss …’

  ‘My guess is they are going to make you a pretty good offer,’ Nat said with a laugh. ‘I’m happy they singled you out. But how could it possibly be otherwise? Your beauty is impossible to ignore.’

  ‘I didn’t think they would call on such short notice. True, I’m planning on building my career in a different field, but the idea of trying my hand at modeling appeals to me. But a fashion model has to be relaxed, confident and have a good command of her body. What if I don’t fit? Frankly, I’m slightly jittery about the upcoming interview.’

  ‘Your lack of confidence will become a thing of the past if you come to like being the focus of people’s attention, Miriam. A lot of models go on with their studies, without any problem. Young girls get into this business to earn some money and to make a name for themselves. With your looks, it would be a crime not to try. I could come with you – if you want me to,’ suggested Nat.

  ‘That’s a great idea!’ I replied.

  I was very happy that things took such a turn.

  Upon returning home I switched my TV to one of the channels that broadcast fashion shows around the clock, and sat pinned to the screen for quite a while. I watched the models striding to and fro, and tried to memorize the minute details of their demeanor.

  My desire to work in the sphere of law was still there, so I worked hard preparing to enter university. In recent years, I had devoted myself completely to studying and making intellectual progress. I wouldn’t go out and totally rejected the idea of meeting anyone, much less dating someone. For the time being, I threw all these thoughts out of my head. I sat poring over books for months like a hermit; now my perseverance started to pay off, and I was very much pleased with the first results. I became very good at international private law. Due to the practical training I had during my vacation in law firms, courts of law and prosecutor's offices, I acquired some experience in this field. And my flawless English opened rather good prospects for my work on an international scale.

  I was quick in making the right conclusions while working with case files, singling out their strong and weak sides, and formulating my opinion with accuracy and precision; giving good advice in the line of defense or prosecution, and producing “rock-solid arguments” in the process.

  ‘There’s no need for you to study, Miriam,’ a female judge used to tell me half-jokingly. ‘Admittedly, it’s the first time that I came across a trainee with such a high level of professional skills.’

  ‘I’m very glad you think so highly of me, Madame Mercier,’ I told her emotionally. ‘This means all my efforts were not in vain.’

  ‘Of course, they weren’t in vain, Miriam. I’m sure you’ll have a bright career. Good for you, my girl! I’m very happy that we have students like you,' she kept on praising me.

  This seemingly severe and cold woman never paid compliments to anyone. Her opinion meant much to me, and, thanks to the support she gave me, my inner confidence grew day by day.

  At half past five I was standing in front of a magnificent, bright-colored building erected in the 1930s. The sign said: Podium Stars. I walked confidently into the hall, greeted the receptionist, and said,

  ‘I have an appointment with Madame Derek. My interview is scheduled for five o’clock.’

  ‘I’ll tell her you’re here…’ The receptionist picked up the receiver and said, ‘Madam Derek, you have a visitor.’

  I was met by a stylish woman in her fifties; she stood with her arm on the back of a chair, appraising me… My simple but elegant beige dress accentuated to advantage my full breasts and round thighs; high-heeled shoes made my already long legs still longer, while thin and almost invisible stockings added a good deal of exquisiteness to my appearance. A thick bush of slightly curly fair hair completed my image. There wasn’t a spot of a make-up on my face.

  ‘Please, be seated,’ said Madame Derek, pointing at a chair.

  Lying on the table in front of her was my portfolio. She turned over several pages and then asked with a forced smile,

  ‘What made you
come into the fashion model business?’

  ‘I’ve made up my mind to try my hand at it,’ I replied tersely, just because I didn’t have a more concrete answer in my mind on the spur of the moment.

  Madame Derek looked me over for a long while and went on,

  ‘If your application is accepted, you’ll have to carve out a certain amount of time to undergo the necessary preparation with our specialists. You’ll have to decide in which capacity you’re going to work: only as a model or, in addition, as a catwalk model taking part in fashion shows.’

  ‘For starters, I’d like to try my hand at working just as a model. You see, for the time being I’ve got neither experience nor the foggiest idea of what a fashion show is like,’ I said outright.

  ‘Our fashion photographer will take some trial pictures of you. If we like them, we’ll be able to offer you a contract, and negotiate all the conditions.’ Madame Derek called in a photographer, and I followed him into the studio where, in a matter of minutes, Monsieur Henry George had to turn me into a beautiful sprite. The outcome of my interview depended, partially, upon the work he did.

  ‘What’s your name?’ he asked me more out of sheer politeness than because of personal interest.

  This thin man with a pony tail of greasy hair and barely visible spectacles on his big nose seemed to pay no attention to me at all; the stare of his little insignificant eyes was focused on a camera screen, and he was constantly humming some tune under his breath. His appearance was somewhat repulsive, and I was ill at ease. I felt like turning round and leaving.

  ‘My name’s Miriam,’ I said coldly in a reply he clearly didn’t need at all.

  ‘Listen, Miriam, there’s a pile of dresses in wardrobe… You may go in there and choose a few in different styles, while I’ll be fiddling around with my camera for fifteen more minutes, OK?’ He mumbled, waving at the door that led to the corridor.

  ‘All right,’ I said, making for wardrobe.

  I saw a lot of clothes hanging there. They were assorted according to color, style and brands; every shelf and every rack had a label above it that facilitated finding the right one. I selected a pair of evening dresses; a light, tight-fitting purple tunic with green leaves on it, shorts with a see-through tank top, and some other things that looked appropriate to me.

  I decided to start my photo session with an evening image: a long cream-colored dress and high-heeled shoes. While doing my hair I made faces for a short while in front of the mirror, trying to select and fix the right look on my face – it was supposed to be the smile of a brave and confident woman.

  There was a loud knock on the door.

  ‘I’m ready! It’s time to get down to work!’ the photographer called out in a high-pitched voice.

  “Couldn’t they really have found a professional photographer with a slightly more attractive appearance than this ape?” I thought to myself. “The very look of him kills the desire of being elegant and beautiful.”

  When I entered the hall, my mood was anything but elevated. He gave me a quick once over.

  ‘Splendid,’ nodded Henry, and reached out for his camera.

  In a second the camera shutter started clicking at a furious speed – with Henry shouting out his commands just as quickly.

  ‘Turn to your side! Make it snappy! Put your hand on your waist! Like this!’ He called out, showing me. ‘Toss back your head! Now look up and stare at the ceiling! Lie down on the floor and raise your leg – slightly…Keep changing your postures! If you cannot change them now when we’re alone, I wonder how you’re going to do it when surrounded by hundreds of people,’ he grumbled. ‘Well done, now look directly at me…’ The photographer talked without stopping for a single moment. ‘Try to be more relaxed, daring and confident…’

  I quickly came to enjoy the process, and forgot about the photographer’s existence. I acted in front of the camera without noticing what was going on around me. One set of clothes was followed by another with my every entrance. I was different, turning from an elegant lady into an unkempt teenage girl, and from a strict teacher with a tight bundle of hair at the back of her head into a young sexually appealing blond with two pony-tails. I laughed and made faces while he kept on clicking his camera, constantly instructing me about what to do.

  ‘Great!’ Henry said with a contented finality. ‘I’ll select the best from what we did today, and now you may change and then go downstairs. I’ll look in at the office in half an hour.’

  ‘How did your session with Henry come off?’ enquired Madame Derek.

  ‘Not bad – I hardly noticed he was there,’ I said jokingly.

  ‘He’s one of our best photographers, and his hourly rate is very high. He’s quite an expert and does his job excellently. Henry’s not straight – if you know what I mean – so his heart is off-limits even for the most beautiful and sexually appealing women.’ It was supposed to be a warning, though Madame Derek obviously knew that his manners sometimes could be repulsive. ‘He quickly grasps the flaws and merits of every model, and is capable of turning an ungainly girl into such an attractive beauty that you wouldn’t be able to take your eyes off her picture. Henry is a real magician!’

  Without saying anything in reply, I listened to her speak, waiting for the results of my first photo session. At last Henry knocked at the door and entered the office. Having fanned some pictures on the table, he sat in an armchair, crossed his legs and stared intently at Madame Derek. Complete silence fell upon the room.

  ‘Not bad, not bad…,’ said Madame Derek finally breaking the silence and motioning to me to come over and have a look at the pictures.

  ‘I’m of the same opinion,’ Henry agreed. ‘She’s photogenic: her beauty in combination with a total lack of affectation makes her image very appealing. But she’ll have to work on her facial gestures. Still, her body mobility is quite good… All in all, she does have potential.’

  I cast a look at the picture where I was posing in an evening dress as a femme fatale – and for a fleeting moment it seemed to me as if it wasn’t me at all. “It’s kind of funny how drastically a photo can change the way a human being looks,” I thought, peering into my strange self.

  ‘Are you going to stay in Paris till the day after tomorrow, Miriam?’ she finally asked me.

  ‘Yes, I am.’

  ‘Excellent. Come round tomorrow morning. I’ll be waiting for you,’ said Madame Derek, deep in thought.

  ‘OK!’

  I started towards the exit.

  Chapter 19

  ‘Well, Miriam, did everything go okay?’ asked Natalie.

  ‘It appears so,’ I said. ‘Do you want to go with me tomorrow? You can see how Henry, the photographer, works. He’s a strange and unpleasant character but the pictures he takes are simply excellent; I could hardly recognize myself!’

  ‘Sure! I’m dying of curiosity, Miriam! I have no doubt they’ll offer you a contract, and in no time you’ll be dealing with paychecks with lots of zeros on them,’ Nat exclaimed, full of joy.

  ‘Millions are a good thing, indeed, but they are still in the realm of dreams. Let’s get back to reality. Will I be able to work and study at the same time – what do you think? It’s too early to start thinking about it, though; they haven’t made me any offer yet…’

  ‘Your candidacy will be approved, that’s for sure! As for the rest – you’ll have to wait and see. Time will tell.’

  ‘I don’t know what I would do without you, Nat!’

  ‘Good morning. Come in, please!’ said Madame Derek hospitably opening the door.

  Upon entering the room I saw a huge stand there with my photos pinned to it. Reclining on a nearby couch was Henry. He sat drinking coffee, and talking to a corpulent woman.

  ‘Hi,’ he said, putting out his skinny hand.

  ‘Hi! Meet my friend, Natalie.’

  ‘My name is Madame Var. I’m the head advertising assistant with the Alchemy of Beauty magazine, and the official representative of a big
French cosmetics company. We’re currently in search of a new face for our new brand of perfume, which we’d like to have on the front cover of our magazine.’

  Madame Var came up to the stand and pointed her finger at one of my pictures.

  ‘You have a very distinct and easily memorable appearance. I’m sure your face can attract the attention of potential buyers to our new perfume. Our common goal is to excite our readers’ eager interest. You seem to be capable of being attractive to both men and women, which is very important for a new product,’ she explained, rubbing her hands.

  ‘Miriam, my agency is offering you a short-term contract. It stipulates all the details of our cooperation, and your fee,’ said Madame Derek, handing me some papers. ‘Here you are; read it through. This has to be signed within a fortnight. That is, if you agree to our conditions…’

  While we were in the office, Natalie didn’t say a word, but, frankly speaking, I wasn’t in the mood to start a lengthy discussion either, because the events were unfolding too quickly. It was only outside that we were able to talk to each other.

  ‘Why were you keeping so quiet, Nat? What’s your take on all this?’

  ‘Your pictures are just amazing, Miriam. As far as I’m concerned, you shouldn’t miss such an excellent opportunity. You’ll have the chance to appear on the front cover of the Alchemy of Beauty, and this is a good prospect for a would-be model. The magazine is published in different languages in many countries and sells millions of copies. You must accept their offer; I don’t think they approach every girl who comes to them for an interview. They really liked you, Miriam. And, maybe, they’ll make a star out of you – who knows?’