Mirage Beyond Flames (Coriola)

by De Ross, Melinda

  “That is spectacular!” she exclaimed animated. “I suppose there are a lot of parents who give their consent for their children to serve as guinea pigs.”

  “Yeah,” he answered. “After all, their fate is pretty much sealed from the moment they’re diagnosed, so they haven’t got much to lose by trying new treatment methods. Nevertheless, our calculations are very exact and the risks are minimal for volunteers.”

  Linda sighed, supporting her chin on her hands.

  “But what exactly provokes cancer?” she asked. “A virus, a bacteria, what?”

  Gerard looked at her, seeming surprised by the acute interest she manifested regarding this subject.

  “To be painfully honest, not even medical science can’t exactly point out the cause of this disease. Following all kinds of studies, there have been issued numerous hypotheses. The most plausible would be that, under the influence of certain factors, the growing and multiplication systems of normal cells change. This becomes dangerous for the rest of healthy cells. In other words, the cancerous cells multiply in a chaotic way, uncontrollably, their number increases until they form a visible tumor. Beside their very fast multiplication, cancerous cells are incapable of adequately organizing, and the newly formed mass of tissue doesn’t have normal tissue features.”

  “I know tumors are malignant and benign, the malignant are nasty, so doctors have to get rid of them, right?”

  Gerard laughed.

  “Something like that. Would you like to be my assistant? I could really use having you around.”

  “I’m sorry, but I’m more in my element amidst pieces of wood, metal and sharp objects. Biology was never my forte and, most important, I don’t have the required psychological structure to work in health care. I get teary-eyed just by seeing sick people,” she said with forced cheerfulness. “Or did you forget the earlier demonstration?”

  He covered her hand with his, gently stroking her.

  “Don’t be embarrassed, it’s not shameful to have a soul. You have to be glad society didn’t turn you too into an insensitive robot, like the ones surrounding us.”

  She didn’t withdraw her hand, but fully enjoyed the pleasant feeling enveloping her at his warm touch.

  “Don’t get me wrong,” she said. “I’m not ashamed for having weaknesses, not really. I just wish I could hide it better, so I won’t be easily read by just anybody, like an open book.”

  A corner of his sensual mouth lifted.

  “Believe me, you’re far from being an open book. When I first saw you, I got the impression you’re a cool, distant dame who does charity just for publicity’s sake.”

  When Linda looked at him with her jaw dropped, he ran a hand through his short hair.

  “Damn it, I can’t believe I’ve said that!” he went on laughing, and she joined him.

  “For such a smart man, you’re not so clever, Mr. Leon. Or didn’t you know I have always preferred to remain anonymous? What is known about me, is discussed only inside the clinic, at least I thought so. But considering how informed everybody is about my personal life, I wonder how come they don’t speculate about the color of my underwear,” she joked without malice.

  Gerard widened his smile.

  “If you’d like, I’m perfectly available to check, just so there won’t be any uncertainties.”

  You have no idea how tempting it is, she thought, but asked with a dry smile:

  “Are you so friendly and helpful with all women?”

  “Only with the incredible ones, like you,” he answered, watching her in such a way she wondered if she was running a fever.

  Realizing their plates and glasses were long empty, Linda grabbed her purse and stood.

  “I’d better be going,” she said. “I’ve got some work to do.”

  “I’ll see you to your car, just hold on a minute while I pay our bill.”

  Outside, the asphalt was still very hot, but the sunlight had dropped considerably.

  They walked in silence the few dozens of yards until they reached the clinic, where Linda had parked her car - a sport, light blue Mercedes, its top carelessly left down.

  “You should be more careful. Don’t ever leave your hood down, especially when you park on the street.”

  “Oh,” she gesticulated vaguely. “There’s nothing to steal really, just some chisels somewhere in the glove box, but I have a few dozens more at home, of all kinds.”

  Gerard took her hands in his once again.

  “It was a real pleasure meeting you,” he said, looking her straight in the eyes. “When will I see you again?”

  Linda hesitated, then answered on a neutral tone:

  “I’m sure I’ll see you around, here at the clinic. Now that I live in London, I’ll pass by more often. Thanks for the treat and good luck with your treatment, I’ll check on your progress.”

  Gerard smiled, unaffected by her apparent indifference.

  “I’ll see you around,” he said and kissed her cheek, before she had time to make any gesture of protest.

  * * *

  After her car was out of sight, he entered the building, going straight to the room where he’d met her earlier. From the floor, next to the chair where Linda had sat, he picked up the sunglasses he’d removed himself not long ago. With a little satisfied laugh, he headed toward Carolina’s office. She was one of the nurses and occasionally also served as a secretary.

  Displaying his most seductive smile, he approached the plump, blond woman, who resembled a bit his own mother.

  “Caro, Ms. Coriola forgot her sunglasses here. Do you by chance know her address and phone number? Yeah, yeah, I know they’re confidential, don’t worry. This data is safe with me.”

  Chapter Three

  Although she owned the house for a few months, Linda’s excitement toward the rust-colored brick building hadn’t decreased in the least. The house had one storey, three bedrooms and two baths, displaying a simple façade which didn’t differ in any way from the buildings forming a select neighborhood somewhere in South London. Afferent to the main building was a small, white garage and in front of these stretched a driveway, guarded by old trees. The access to it was through a massive gate, old looking and elegant, like the entire ambient, but having a modern alarm system and centralized opening.

  Linda pressed a button of the remote ever present on her car’s dashboard and the ornate gates slid with unexpected grace.

  By pushing another button, the garage door lifted. She parked her car, then got out and unlocked a side-way door which connected the garage with the house. The door led straight to a huge living room, with enormous windows, revealing the panorama that had enchanted her so much: a pool with sinuous, asymmetric forms meandered behind the house. Alongside it, numerous garden dwarves, elves and other fairytale characters held, in ceramic hands, dozens of lanterns. When night fell, the combined lights gave the scenery a charming appearance, seemingly detached from the same fairytales as their bearers. Next to the pool – a rarely used extravagance, although it had a heating system – was a narrow platform with a bunch of lounge chairs. Beyond all these stretched a wild-looking yard, its trees and shrubs sheltering a small gazebo – Linda’s workshop.

  She sprawled on the living room couch in front of a massive TV screen – one of the few furniture items. Browsing through channels in search of something interesting, she called her companion. He immediately appeared from the kitchen, tail welcomingly raised in the air, and jumped on her lap, purring noisily.

  “How’s my beautiful, sweet baby-cat?” she asked, lovingly stroking the soft white fur, immaculate except for some black spots on the front paws - which looked like cat shoes. A patch of dark fur spread around his left eye. This dark patch, nearly circular, conferred the cat a prankish look and had brought him the name Pirata.

  In the three years since he had been born, Pirata and his mistress had been inseparable. He was her most faithful friend and wise confidant.

  The cat let out a melodious meow,
to which she promptly replied:

  “Yes, darling, I was at the clinic today. If it was possible, I would’ve taken you along, I’m sure you could have cheered up the children a bit.”

  She kept talking, caressing the cat’s clean fur, whilst he listened carefully to her every word, watching her with his slanted blue eyes.

  “I’ve met one of the doctors, a guy… Well, a great guy apparently, but you know I don’t trust men much, right? Especially the ones who seem too good to be true.”

  Pirata gently rubbed his pink nose against hers, making her laugh.

  “Look at me, I’m completely pathetic, my best friend is a cat and the funny thing is that I get the impression you truly understand what the hell I’m saying! Let’s grab something to eat,” she said and got up, following the cat, who led the way to the kitchen.

  The kitchen was furnished as simply as the rest of the house. In the center stood a triangular counter – which also served as a table with two chairs. Cupboards and other utensils were disposed along the walls around the counter, all surfaces being immaculately white.

  “Let’s see what Mrs. Adams cooked for us,” she muttered, referring to the housekeeper she’d hired, at the recommendation of the old couple who had sold her the house, after they had benefited for five years from Mrs. Adams services.

  Linda inspected the fridge, discovering chicken soup, something that appeared to be mushroom omelet and pumpkin pie - her favorite dessert.

  “Mm, we’re going to eat excellent tonight.”

  She put food and water for Pirata in his zone – an area next to the kitchen door where the cat had his sleeping basket, toys and even a swinging little door, specially built for his access and cat-ish needs – then ate some omelet sitting at the counter.

  When she finished it, she took a piece of pie and installed herself in front of the TV, on the living room sofa.

  While changing the channels, bored, she stumbled over one of the numerous film versions made after Paul Feval’s book, Le bossu, a book she had especially liked in childhood. The movie wasn’t half too bad, so she watched it interestedly. After it ended, she noticed darkness had fallen and her elves – or rather the photo sensors with which they were equipped –had turned on their lanterns, creating sublime games of light on the pool’s shiny surface. Seeing as it had probably been one of the hottest days in London’s history, the pool seemed more alluring than ever.

  Pirata had sprawled onto her lap at some point in the middle of the movie and he was deeply asleep. Linda lowered him gently on the sofa, receiving in exchange a small protesting meow.

  She climbed the stairs to her bedroom and undressed, leaving her clothes in her specific disordered style, discarded on the huge bed covered with blue sheets, same color as the walls. She put on a tiny black swimsuit, almost new. She grabbed her cell phone – from which she rarely could be separated – and turned on the radio application, finding a channel with pop, rhythmic music that perfectly suited her mood. She left the phone on a lounge chair next to the pool and slowly sank into the water, savoring the feeling of liquid coolness, as pleasant as a hot bath on a cold winter night.

  Pirata, awakened by the commotion and music, had come to keep her company and was watching his lazily swimming mistress, while he was sprawled among dwarves in the grass.

  After she swam enough, a pleasant fatigue spread into her muscles. She turned her face up in the water and let herself float, gazing at the dark sky, where no star seemed to ever show itself.

  Smog, she thought melancholically, then started to move her arms slowly to reach the pool’s side.

  Precisely when she was getting ready to climb out, the radio stopped, as the phone started ringing.

  “Who the hell is it at this hour?” she rhetorically asked the cat who was imitating her, stretching with his belly in the air and scratching with his playful claws the paint of a poor elf.

  Linda rushed out of the pool, quickly dried her hands on a towel and grabbed the phone. She didn’t know the number on the display screen.

  “Hello,” she answered a tad too briskly.

  “Hello, Linda, it’s Gerard Leon. I’m standing in front of your gate but I don’t know how to get in and it’s kind of difficult to climb over it. Could you open it for me?”

  For a few seconds, she didn’t manage to utter a sound. Eventually she asked:

  “Gerard? What the hell are you doing here at this time of night?”

  “I’ll explain when you open. Or would you rather I climb over the gate?”

  “No, don’t touch it!” she said aggravated. “It’s gonna start the alarm and alert the security company. Although maybe it’s not such a bad idea. Hold on, I’ll be right there.”

  What the hell is he doing here at this hour? she asked herself once more, while she was hastily wrapping a towel around herself and put on a pair of beach slippers.

  The driveway leading to the gates was quite long and Linda, her hair and skin wet, began to feel the cold brought by nightfall and the pool’s chilly water. Once she reached the gate, she looked at Gerard through the thick bars, then introduced the code to disable the alarm.

  “How do you know my address and what are you doing here at this hour?”

  Chapter Four

  Gerard couldn’t distinguish much in the deep darkness. Nevertheless, he spotted the towel, which revealed a pair of long legs, smooth shoulders and arms that held the fabric in a shriveling pose. In the moonlight, her skin had a pearly glow. The water drops dripping from her hair were lost somewhere behind the fist that gathered the towel to her chest.

  He clutched hard one of the gate’s bars, trying to control the incredible reactions triggered in his body and mind by this semi-nude nymph, toward whom he felt a magnetic attraction.

  “You forgot your sunglasses at the clinic. I took your address from the register book and came to return them to you, along with this.”

  He outstretched his other hand revealing, in the low light, a single white rose.

  “Can I come in?” he asked. “I swear my intentions are as innocent as this rose,” he went on, joking.

  She appeared hesitant, but considering she was probably half frozen, she opened the gate then stepped aside to make room for him. He knew he was watching her with an almost tangible intensity, the glow of his eyes defying the darkness, but was helpless to tear his gaze away.

  He handed her the sunglasses and the flower. She took them with a shaky hand, murmuring:

  “Thanks, but you shouldn’t have bothered.”

  “It was no bother, on the contrary. I was hoping you’ll invite me for a coffee and you look like you could use something hot.”

  As though she completely agreed, Linda indicated the house’s direction and they both headed to the building.

  Gerard continued to watch her discretely from the corner of his eye. As the lights from the windows revealed a clearer image of the woman beside him, it was increasingly hard not to touch her. He felt an acute need to enfold her in his arms, to warm that suave skin with hot kisses. Did she feel the same attraction or was she as cold and distant as she seemed? He would have given anything to know what she was thinking right in that moment, but she kept walking without sketching any gesture that could reflect her mindset.

  “Do you live alone?” he asked, before he remained completely deaf to the voice of reason and do something he wasn’t sure he should.

  “No.”

  Her answer overly surprised him. According to the sources from the clinic, Linda lived alone, the rest of her family was in Italy - her birth-land.

  “With whom, then?” he asked again, seeing she didn’t plan to elaborate in regard to this subject.

  They finally reached the front door, which had been left open. A white cat was waiting on the steps, obviously bothered by the presence of a nocturnal intruder.

  “With him,” Linda answered, indicating the cat, who permanently seemed to wink at somebody. “His name is Pirata and he’s my best friend,” s
he added smiling and signaling him to come in.

  In the living room, she invited him to sit on the sofa.

  “Please, wait for me a few minutes, I’m gonna go change.”

  “No problem, no rush,” he replied. “If you show me where the kitchen is, I can make some hot chocolate.”

  Linda looked at him a bit surprised, then guided him to the kitchen.

  “You’ll find mugs up in that cupboard, the chocolate is here, on the right,” she explained. “I usually heat water in the microwave.”

  “Go and dress,” he said. “And please dry your hair, I wouldn’t want you to catch a cold.”

  So saying, he took a wet strand of her hair between his fingers and with a slow, fluid motion, lifted it to his lips, deeply inhaling her subtle scent.

  Linda watched him, seemingly not being able to escape his mesmerizing gaze, so intense he felt it could penetrate a wall. After a moment, she took a deep breath and said:

  “I think you’ll be fine until I get back.”

  She turned and walked out, climbing the stairs fast, clutching her towel with one hand, the sunglasses and flower with the other.