Mirage Beyond Flames (Coriola)

by De Ross, Melinda

  “Baby, do you think we could buy that cock for Pirata? He would have so much fun with him…”

  He burst into laughter then, looking through the window, said:

  “Judging by the size of that beast, I think Pirata would be the one who’d serve as an appetizer for it.”

  Mariana served breakfast, insisting the two must eat well before getting on the road. The table atmosphere was cheerful, but they all had their souls shadowed by sorrow. They had gotten attached with each other, these couples, so different in age, nationality and life style, but still having many things in common.

  The two women were teary-eyed when they said goodbye, while the men loaded the bags in the trunk. Mariana had given them some of the décor objects she’d created – small parts of her soul – as she called them.

  Even in Jean-Paul’s eyes there was a trace of a strange nostalgia. That morning he seemed older and not as tall as before.

  Although the Battistes had promised to come visit London when time and money would allow it, none of them truly believed they’d see each other again.

  In each hug could be read an ambiguous finality. Linda imagined that responsible for the somewhat somber atmosphere were also the odd events they’d shared, the four of them, during those three days.

  Gerard squeezed his friend’s hand and Jean-Paul told him with emotion vibrating in his abrasive voice:

  “Remember what I told you, my son. You are strong, noble. Michel would be proud of you,” he went on, referring to Gerard’s father. “I, for one, am damned proud. If Mariana and I would have had children, none would have been as good as you.”

  Impressed and strangely touched, the younger man gazed at the tips of his shoes for a moment, then lifted his gaze to his old friend.

  “Thank you, Jean, for everything! Take care of yourselves!”

  He hugged him tight, then he embraced Mariana, kissing her hand. He opened the car door for Linda and, with a last glance at his closest friends, got into the car.

  The return trip was very different from the initial one. Their mindset was different. Coming to Romania, they were headed toward adventure, toward a welcoming and fascinating unknown. Now they were leaving behind the same unknown, fascinating in a bizarre way, but far from welcoming, and their adventure spirit had evaporated. They had gotten a lot more than they’d bargained for.

  The only thing lifting their spirits was the fact that, in an old suitcase camouflaged in Gerard’s dusty rucksack, they were bringing home a priceless treasure.

  “What do you plan to do now, with the file Jean gave you?” she asked, gazing through the windshield at kilometers of road they rapidly left behind.

  He sighed, then said in a vague tone:

  “To be honest, I don’t even know where to start. I’ve a couple of trustworthy colleagues, I think I could count on them. I gotta share this with someone, I can’t work by myself. I have to account higher, we need to make tests, it’s an extremely long way until we’ll manage to patent a treatment. But we have hope, that’s the most important thing.”

  She squeezed his hand gently, then turned on the radio to lighten the mood.

  The road was pretty clear, so the trip didn’t take as long as the first one. Thanks to the copious breakfast made by Mariana, neither of them wanted to stop and eat. They reached Bucharest and drove straight to the agency to return the rented Jeep. After all formalities were concluded and all taxes paid, the couple took their luggage and got into the first available cab, asking the driver to take them at the airport.

  When the whole boarding process was finalized, they installed in their destined seats and the plane took off. Not taking any notice of the distance between their seats or the uncomfortable position, Linda wriggled to her lover’s chest whispering:

  “I can’t wait to get home. To forget everything that happened, resume our lives, our daily routine…”

  He stroked her cheek thoughtfully.

  “So do I, my love. So do I.”

  Tired, they slept most of the way. It seemed like only an hour or so had passed where their arrival was announced.

  As they stepped again on the dusty London streets, they felt revived. The dry and stuffy air, the infernal traffic, all seemed like corners of heaven now.

  After a short debate, they decided for each to go to their respective residences to deal with their business, so each took a separate cab.

  Linda had called Mrs. Adams as soon as they’d got out of the airport, so the woman was waiting for her at home, with Pirata. When he spotted her, the cat began meowing desperately. If it was a sign of joy or reproach, Linda didn’t know, nor care. She took him in her arms and sank her cheek in the clean fur, murmuring endearments, caressing him with all the love a mother can feel for her child.

  Assuring her the house was clean, the pool water had been changed, the fridge was full and everything was fine, Mrs. Adams left her to enjoy the reunion with her adored cat, in the cozy comfort of her own home.

  She unpacked assisted by Pirata, then spent some time arranging on shelves the souvenirs from Mariana and those she had bought. Others she put aside, intending to send them as gifts to her family, as wells as to a dear childhood friend from her beloved Italy.

  Finishing this chore, she took some ice-cream from the fridge and cuddled on the couch with her cat, in front of the TV. Darkness had fallen by now, causing her elves and dwarfs to spread multi-colored lights from their torches.

  “There’s no place like home, honey,” she told the cat, offering him a finger covered in ice-cream, which he promptly licked. “I wonder what my lover is doing now…”

  * * *

  In his apartment, Gerard unpacked quickly, then headed to the shower. He sat for a long time under the purifying jet of scolding water, trying to relax. He felt unjustifiably tired, not only physically, but first of all mentally. Wearing only a towel wrapped around his waist, he sat on the sofa, watching absently the fish undulating in the aquarium. On the coffee table in front of him was Jean-Paul’s file. He studied it meditatively, thinking of everything that laid there, enciphered in ink on paper. The potential of saving hundreds, thousands of lives, a vicious fight waiting for him, with all those who were laying traps and obstacles from the shadows. A huge responsibility weighing on his shoulders. He wondered for a moment if Jean wasn’t putting too much hope in his abilities, if he was capable to take this fight to the end.

  Then he thought of Linda, of the way she looked at him, as if he was a god. Apollo, he told himself smiling, remembering her sculpture. If he had her love, her support, he could do anything.

  “Anything. If I have you beside me, I can do anything, Linda,” he said aloud, suddenly feeling invincible. He’d taken the decision he was contemplating for a few days and rose abruptly to call her.

  Just at that moment, the doorbell rang. Gerard looked through the peephole, then opened the door.

  “Hi, Danielle,” he greeted the blonde woman, dressed in a minuscule red outfit which outlined voluptuous curves.

  Danielle analyzed him from head to toe, feeling an acute desire to snatch the towel, which was his only textile article right then. She called herself an exotic dancer, but she’d offered so many private lap-dances she could easily have competed with a first class whore. The first time she had seen Gerard, her heart had jolted in an unfamiliar way. Since then, she often had fantasies whose protagonist was her sexy neighbor. However, he had gallantly ignored her advances, making clear the fact he wasn’t interested in something more than a cordial friendship. To her regret, Danielle considered Gerard was much too good for her. Especially since he had a woman. Danielle didn’t know her, but it was much too obvious. Where else could a man spend his nights and how could he have refused a woman like her if he wasn’t in love with another? She even suspected who, the woman from the paper he always kept in sight, a sculptress or something like that.

  “I saw your windows open, handsome,” she said, entering without an invitation. “I just returned from
shopping, went upstairs to leave my bags and came to bring you the key and collect my present.”

  He smiled indulgently.

  “My fish look kind of fat. How much did you feed them?”

  “About twice as much as it says on the box,” she replied nonchalantly, sitting on the sofa and stretching her long legs. “That towel is close to falling down. Want me to help you take it off?” she offered smiling widely.

  Gerard smiled too, good-naturedly.

  “Thanks for your generosity, darling neighbor, but I’d better go change. Look, there are your presents,” he indicated a bag on a shelf.

  “Presents, in plural? Hmm…”

  Forgetting for a moment her intention of following him into the bedroom, Danielle began taking out of the bag souvenirs and all kinds of minuscule decorative objects.

  When he came back, she said:

  “Thank you, honey! Your tactic was successful. This was bait so I won’t follow you into the bedroom.”

  He laughed, arching his well-tanned throat.

  “I know you’re too much of a lady to do such a thing. Do you like them?”

  “Very much. How was your trip in Transylvania?” she asked, with a pronunciation like in the old vampire movies.

  His smile faltered. For a moment, he thought to relate to her all the strange happenings he had experienced. It was no point though. He liked and respected Danielle, but she was a simple ignorant woman. She wouldn’t have understood, and things would have complicated for him.

  “It was… interesting,” he finally replied. “All in all, it was worth the effort. We returned in possession of some extremely precious information for the clinic’s researches.”

  “I’m glad,” she said seriously, watching him intensely. “You’re a hell of a guy. Too bad I’m not the lucky woman to have you.”

  He remained speechless for a moment, not knowing exactly what words to choose, then he said:

  “You’re a very special lady, Danielle. I’m absolutely convinced you’ll soon meet a guy who will see you the way I do.”

  “He’d better look like Richard Gere too,” she joked, rising. “I’ll leave you to your business, you must be in a hurry to go to your girl. Here’s the key and thanks for the presents.”

  Gerard led her to the front door, opening it for her. Before she got out, Danielle – giving over to a pure feminine weakness – turned around and kissed him quickly on the lips, not giving him the chance to make any gesture, although she sensed an involuntary protest was the first reaction that stolen kiss triggered in him.

  She headed quickly to the stairs leading up to her apartment, hearing as he closed and locked the door.

  None of them had seen the silhouette of the woman who was just climbing the stairs and who had remained frozen at the sight greeting her.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Linda stayed motionless in the semi-darkness, watching stunned while a vulgar woman was kissing her lover. She felt a terrible pain, almost physical, as though her entire body had been pierced by thousands of spears. The first one went straight through her heart and, for a split second, it seemed to have stopped beating. Never in her entire life had she experienced such an agonizing feeling, it was like the whole world had ended, collapsing on top of her.

  Quietly, she descended the stairs before anyone could see her. She got out of the building and looked around, disoriented, then walked to the place where she’d left her car. She jerked violently when her cell phone started ringing in her jacket’s pocket. She took it out and gazed absently at the bright display. It was him, Gerard. He probably didn’t even have time to wipe that vulgar whore’s lipstick from his lips before calling her. She bit her lower lip until she felt the metallic taste of her own blood and a tear rolled down her cheek. She hurled the still ringing phone with all her might. It smashed into a tree, shattering into dozens of small pieces. Then she got into the car and started the engine, launching at full speed on the streets of London, aimless, her senses almost numb.

  It was dark, and the tears that wouldn’t stop falling were blurring her eyes. She wondered, for a mad moment, if it wouldn’t be better for her to just die, to simply drive fast straight into the first obstacle she’d encounter. In that instant, she felt that was indeed what she wanted to do, but reason and pride had taken voice in her mind and heart.

  To die for a man! How pathetic she was… Never! No one deserved this kind of honor, this sort of sacrifice, especially that lying worm! How could she let her cat orphan for a man?

  Her Italian ego was the only weapon she had against the wound bleeding deep in her soul. Pride had helped her get over all the bad memories, over Tony, over everything that had hurt her in her life. It was going to help her now. After all, she’d been the one who had declared from the start she didn’t need nor want a serious relationship. Why was she complaining? What could be more un-serious than the fact that the man to whom she had offered herself, body and soul, was kissing another woman? Well, it looked like the woman had been the one to do the kissing, but her reasoning – or the lack there of – rejected the continuation of this idea. No one could force a man of Gerard’s size and build. That woman hadn’t kissed him by physically constraining him, that was certain.

  But why? Why? What could that slut have offered him that I haven’t offered? What had a common whore in plus over me? she thought with the born superiority of high-class women.

  The she remembered Tony’s words, the night of the exhibit… All her old complexes, which she’d thought Gerard had wiped from her subconscious, surfaced once more.

  She stopped the car abruptly on the side of a road she didn’t know and left her head fall on the wheel, her chest shook by sobs. She wondered if that horrible pain was going to ever go away, or at least, diminish. She wondered what would he feel if he would see her in another man’s arms, if it would have been worth it to repay him with the same coin. No, it wouldn’t have been worth it. It would have meant to lower herself and she had too much self-respect. Or, at least, she tried. Besides, no man was ever going to make her feel what she had felt with him, she was sure of that.

  Why, oh why, had she listened to Giovanni and started this relationship? Why had she given him the vote of confidence? She bitterly cursed herself for that. She wanted to call her brother, she longed for comfort like a person covered by burns feels the desperate need for ice, for a benefactor balm, for anything that could bring relief.

  But she remembered her phone had remained in pieces somewhere near his building. She swore aloud and rummaged in her bag for some tissues.

  Her jaw dropped at the sight of the object she discovered in one of the inner pockets of her handbag. She bent and studied it, in the dim light, then shook her head, letting it fall back. What difference did it make now? It didn’t matter anymore. Nothing did.

  After driving aimlessly for hours, she headed home, feeling she had a stone instead of a heart. But stones couldn’t feel pain, while her heart seemed to bleed slowly.

  * * *

  Gerard drove to her house in a state of despair, having the horrible feeling something bad had happened. After Danielle had left, he’d immediately called Linda, but the connection was abruptly cut off. He’d left in a hurry, had made a short detour, then headed straight to her house. Once arrived, he randomly parked the car in front of the gate, inserted the alarm code and the gates opened silently. He ran down the driveway leading to the house and looked through every window, not being able to get inside, because Linda hadn’t given him a key. Anyway, it was obvious no one was home, it was dark everywhere inside the building.

  The elves and dwarves’ lights didn’t uplift his spirits in the least. He wondered with terror what could have happened, what he should do. He didn’t know any member of her family, any of her friends, nobody… Just Francesco, the gallery’s owner. Was it possible she’d went to the gallery at that hour?

  He walked again to his Jeep, trying to think lucidly and calmly to the places where he could look fo
r her. He’d just closed and locked the gates when he spotted the light coming from a pair of headlights. Someone was driving fast toward the gates.

  * * *

  Linda saw him from a distance and involuntarily bit her lip, which started bleeding again. She clenched her teeth, hitting the steering wheel with her fist. Somewhere in her subconscious she’d predicted the fact she was going to find him here, but he was the last person she wanted to see.

  She parked the car behind the Jeep and Gerard ran to her. She took a deep breath, grabbed her handbag and got out of the car. He reached her in two strives. Putting his arms around her, he asked frantically:

  “Where were you, baby? I was so worried. Where’s your phone? Why haven’t you answered me?”

  “I smashed it,” she replied calmly, trying to ignore the warmth of his arms, of his body, which had become her temple in such a short time. Only the thought that those arms could have held another woman caused a sharp pain in her heart. She detached herself from his embrace. “I smashed it,” she repeated in a glacial tone. “I didn’t want to be disturbed, I’ve had…things to do.”

  Gerard froze, then stepped back and analyzed her from head to toe. Her hair was disheveled, her clothes wrinkled, her lower lip was swollen and bleeding.

  A wave of confusion, maybe even madness seemed to fell over him. He grabbed her shoulders and jerked her to him, looking straight into her eyes, then said through his teeth, accentuating each word:

  “I thought I was going crazy with worry and despair because of you! I was just going to the gallery, then to the police and hospitals. Where have you been? What happened to you?”

  “Take your fucking hands off me right now!” she shouted and yanked herself from his grip. “It’s not your damned problem where I’ve been! We have – or rather, we had,” she corrected, “a modern relationship, right? Do you think you’re the only one who has the right to fuck exotic dancers?”