Beauty and the Dark (9 page)

Sofia

A
fter my decision to have Jack in my life only as a friend I get some peace. Not as much as I’d hoped, but some. A part of me takes a step back and starts to think of him as an unattainable object. Like the Princes in the fables my mother read to us.

I spend my days with Mika and Irina and I go for long walks alone at dawn. A couple of times I go without shoes on the snow, but so long has passed since I did that with Master Yeshe I can no longer bear the cold and have to abandon the practice. That must have been a special time when I was a different person.

As I walk in the woods or fields leaving my footprints in the pristine snow, my heart never stops feeling heavy at the thought of giving Jack up. Sometimes I look towards the heavens, remember how far I have come, and try to feel grateful for everything I have. There is a little piece of wisdom Master Yeshe told me to tell myself when things got too difficult to handle.

This too will pass.

Every time my thoughts wander incessantly back to Jack, I repeat the four words like a mantra and to a certain extent it helps.

Finally, an eternity later, Thursday comes around. Just the thought of seeing him again makes my stomach twist, and I try to prepare myself for it by practicing all the different scenarios the meeting could take and the things I could say to him in each setting.

As we leave the house Lena takes my hands in hers and smiles at me encouragingly, her eyes are so pure and so full of love it actually makes my heart stop pumping so hard.

No matter what happens I’ll have Lena.

Jack

It kills me not to turn up at the center on Thursday. It bothers me so bad I have to cancel all my appointments and take a last minute flight out of England. Ten hours later I land in sunny Nassau. My clothes start sticking to me even before I reach the air-conditioned taxi.

“Where to?” the driver asks.

“Surprise me,” I tell him.

He laughs and puts his foot on the gas. The taxi lurches away from the curb. I love islanders. Say that to a British cab driver and he’ll look at you as if you’re mad. We drive by old colonial Georgian buildings in pastel colors, over two bridges, and stop in front of a dock. The driver turns to me grinning broadly, his teeth gleaming whiter than a toothpaste advert.

“The boat will take you to Sivananda Yoga Ashram Retreat.”

“What the?” I begin to say.

“You have no bag,” he says by way of explanation.

I realize it is perfect. This is exactly what I need to recharge. I add a hefty tip to his fare and get out of the cab. Instantly I smell the salt in the sea breeze and know I have made the right decision.

When I arrive at the resort I am greeted by happy, helpful staff. It is considered low season and very quiet so I get an ocean front chalet with an amazing view of the beach. The peaceful energy of the place extends to my living accommodation. It is clean, the bed is comfortable, and the air conditioning works adequately.

I go for a swim in the gloriously azure sea. Floating in the calm water I can see groups of people meditating and others contorting into distressingly complicated yoga poses. Watching their serene faces I know that here I will detox the poisons from my soul and heal myself before I go back to claim my woman.

After a surprisingly good vegetarian meal of quinoa and roasted vegetables washed down with tea (at least that is what they call a cup of lukewarm water with a slice of orange and a couple of cloves thrown into it) I go to lay on the cool sand. As I listen to the steady sound of waves breaking on the beach, I come to a startling conclusion. I don’t need healing. I don’t need fucking anything. I already have everything I want.

All I need now is Sofia.

I take the boat out to the mainland and walk into a bar. It has a good lively atmosphere. Big fans everywhere, lots of tourists in colorful clothes, and a bustling waiting staff. I order a beer and it arrives with lovely condensation on the bottle. Even with all the fans it’s still hot in the bar. I stare at it and think of my hand curling around the cold surface, the cool liquid slipping down my throat after the god awful “tea” from the canteen. I don’t need it and I don’t want it. 

“It’s a beer, not a snake,” a heavily accented female voice says next to me.

I turn to look at her. Young, very young. Messy blonde curls. Tanned, friendly blue eyes, white shorts … and long athletic legs. My money would be on an Australian backpacker out for a shoe-string night of free drinks and fun. Just the kind of girl I would have normally gone for.

“I wasn’t sure. Thanks for the tip,” I say, and start to walk out of the bar.

“If you’re not having it, can I?” the blonde shouts over the noise.

“Knock yourself out, sweetheart,” I call without turning around.

I know what I want and it is back home in England.

Sofia

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZNr2XyEawig

(Unbreak My Heart)

I
t’s impossible to describe my disappointment when I finished my class and opened the corridor door to find Lena standing alone by the foyer talking to Fiona. She turns to look at me and straightaway she sees that I am devastated. I know I told myself all week that I didn’t want to have a relationship with him, that it would never work, I’d only break my heart. But when he did not turn up, my heart broke anyway.

For the rest of the week I go through the motions. I walk, I talk, I eat, but my whole being is waiting for Thursday to come. I’m waiting for that moment when my class will end and I walk down the corridor, open the door, and see Jack standing there in work clothes, telling me he’s starving and asking if I want to join him for a burger at his friend’s café.

Then Thursday comes. I dress in a black top, blue jeans, black boots and an oversized coat. It’s a modern, trendy look. Lena can carry it off no problem, but I don’t know that I have.

Anyway, Lori doesn’t turn up and I take it as a bad omen. When my class ends and my students leave, I put on my coat, gather my things, and begin to walk down the corridor.

For the first time it seems endless.

I reach the door and my heart is like a stone in my chest. It doesn’t matter if he is not there, I tell myself. It’s not the end of the world. It’ll probably be a blessing in disguise. It was always wrong anyway. I lift my hand and push the door. It swings open and I walk through it.

Oh. My. God.

He’s there. Talking to Lena. He is laughing at something she said. When the door swings open he lifts his head and looks straight at me. And smiles. There is something different about him. My knees are like jelly. His eyes travel down my body. I’m so happy my heart feels as if it will jump right out of my chest.

His eyes never leave me as I walk to him.

“Hey,” he says softly.

I can’t speak. I smile a stupid, happy, crazy grin.

“You hungry?” he asks.

I nod, still too overwhelmed to speak.

Suddenly I become aware that my sister’s mouth is next to my ear.

“I’ll go back with Guy now and I’ll send Robert to pick you up from the apartment tomorrow at lunchtime, okay?”

For a second her words don’t make sense and I stare at her with surprise. Then it hits me. This is going to be my first night of independence. I’ll be like any other woman on a date with a man. She wants me to have choices. I can say goodnight to him at the door or invite him in for coffee.

My sister holds my gaze, her eyes steady and strong. God, I love my sister so much it makes me want to cry to think that I am always the cause of unhappiness in her life. I smile at her. I make my smile confident and carefree. I’ll be fine, my smile says. Slowly she smiles back.

I love you, she mouths in Russian.

Me too, I mouth back in Russian.

Then she turns to Jack. “Well, I should be going. You will take care of my Sofia, won’t you?” Her voice trembles.

“With my life,” Jack tells her.

She nods. Wrought with emotion she turns away blindly and heads towards the entrance. The door closes on her as I watch.

“She has nothing to worry about. I’ll never hurt you,” Jack says softly.

I look up at him. His eyes are intense and serious. He has no idea how much I hope and pray that is true.

“Come on,” he says, his hand on the small of my back gently guiding me in the direction of the door. As we get out I see Lena sitting in the backseat, the car is turning away, and she is staring ahead, lost in thought.

“Where are we going?” I ask as we walk towards Jack’s car.

“You’ll see,” he says mysteriously.

He parks the car on the same street as before and we walk up the road. He doesn’t hold my hand, but it is obvious we are together by the looks of the women who pass us by. They look at him then their eyes slide down to me. After a while I start to glow with pride and happiness. I can’t believe that a hunk like Jack would actually want to go out with me.

We walk past his friend’s burger place. I look through the glass window and see that it is empty. The waitress is sitting on a table laughing while Paddy speaks animatedly and gestures with his long limbed body. We carry on down the road until Jack comes to a stop in front of McDonalds.

I laugh. “Seriously?”

“Yeah. I’ll poison myself for you,” he says, and pulls open the door.

It is empty but for a table with two young girls who seem to be already mothers with prams pushed up to their table and another table with kids still in their school uniforms.

They wave at Jack and he smiles and nods back. We walk up to the counter and join the shortest queue. There is only one person ahead of us. I steal a glance at him and he is looking up at the menu with a I-don’t-believe-I’m-doing-this look on his face. It’s actually a very sexy look, but it also makes me want to giggle. As the server rings up the customer’s order I poke Jack in his stomach. It’s like poking wood!

“Last chance to back out,” I tease.

He looks down at me and grins. “Don’t worry about me. At least I’ll die happy.”

Like a fool I go a horrible shade of red, the burn blasting up my neck and into my cheeks.

His eyes twinkle with amusement.

“Can I help you?” the cashier asks.

Awkwardly, I take the two steps that bring me to the counter.

The server looks bored. “What can I get you today?”

“A cheese burger, one chicken McNuggets, one large fries, an Oreo McFlurry and a strawberry Milkshake.”

“And what about you, Sir?”

“A Big tasty, medium fries, side salad, and a Coke,” he says.

Our food is loaded onto two trays and we carry it to a table in a corner.

I survey all the packages in front of me with satisfaction. From now on when someone talks about getting a McDonalds I’ll know what they’re talking about.

Jack

I
watch her surveying all the packages in front of her with a child’s delight, and I want to hunt down and kill those people who hurt her. How could anyone even think of hurting such an innocent and vulnerable creature? I understand why her sister and Guy guard and protect her almost obsessively.

Her delicate hands reach for the little cartons of sauces first. She has ordered three different types and she peels the tops off them and lays them in a row on the table. Then she opens the box of chicken nuggets.

“Bon appetite,” I say softly, curious to see how she plans to fit all this food into her tiny body.

“Same to you,” she says. With a grin she takes the first piece, dips it in the sauce and delicately bites into it, and what do you know, my cock goes rock hard. This is new for me. I’ve never reacted this way to anyone before. Shit. Shifting in my seat I watch her open the burger next and take it in her hands.

“Aren’t you going to eat?” she asks me.

I take a bite of my burger. For plastic it tastes quite good.

She dips a French fry into ketchup and slips it into her mouth. Then she breaks the straw out of its packaging and sticks it into the milkshake. She sucks at the straw. Here we go again. I watch her lush lips release the straw, her tongue come up and lick her lips. Like a woman on a mission she opens the ice cream and dips her plastic spoon into it. She licks the spoon. Fuck, this is the meal from hell. I’m so desperately hard I’m going to need to go and relieve myself in the toilet.

She sighs contentedly. “I’m done,” she says.

I raise my eyebrows. “What? You’ve only had a taste of everything you’ve ordered.”

“Well, after you said what you did about McDonalds I went and did some research and you’re absolutely right.”

I lean back, surprised and amused.

“See this bun here. You’ll never believe the long list of chemicals that are in it. It’s actually painted with mold inhibitors. Not only have I eaten preservatives, dextrose, sodium phosphate, but also a variety of ingredients used for making flame retardant material, yoga mats, safety matches and contact explosives.”

She never stops surprising me. “So why did you want to come in here?”

She shrugs. “I wanted to know what I was missing and now I do.”

“Did you like it?”

“Well, I didn’t hate it, but I prefer your friend’s burger.” She reaches out her hand and touches my arm and I burn. “Thank you for bringing me here. I really appreciate it. Now can we go somewhere else, please?”

I laugh. Standing, I pull her up and grab her by the hips so she is pulled close to me. She gasps and looks up at me. She is too thin. I feel the tiny bones push into my body. Otherwise she’s goddamn perfect. I want to take her back to my place, tangle my body with hers, and fuck until my cum drips from her fucked pussy.

“Fuckin’ get a room,” one of the kids shouts.

Don’t worry kid that’s not how I’m gonna play this. I’m going to take it easy with her. I rub my thumb against her cheek. “Let’s go get some proper food.”

We end up in an Italian joint. It’s really old fashioned with burnt sienna and yellow walls and bottles of Frascati and ham hanging from the rafters. I know the owner. Salvatore is jolly and round. Sometimes he takes his guitar out and sings corny old Italian songs. He’s not very good, but his customers don’t mind. There’s something sweet about his singing. While he is singing you can pretend you have gone back in time. You are sitting in a trattoria in Italy.

We sit sipping Salvatore’s best Gavi de Gavi while we wait for our spaghetti vongole. Today’s special.

“So you grew up in Russia?”

Almost instantly I feel her shrink. “Yes, we grew up in Russia,” she says woodenly.

I change the subject. From then on we stay away from the past. I ask her about her taste in music. Oh dear, she likes classical. She asks me for mine. I tell her I like techno. She loves chocolate ice cream. I don’t. She doesn’t like curry and I could live on it. She likes River Dance and I think they look like puppets jerking around. She likes mountains. I like beaches. I love watching a good boxing match, she cannot bear any kind of sport that involves violence.

Our clam spaghetti arrives. We dig in. I ask her to tell me the person she would most want to have dinner with.

“Dead or alive?” she asks.

“Either.”

She names Princess Diana.

“Why?”

“I’d like to ask her what really happened that night.”

“Don’t you believe the official story then?”

She drops her voice to a whisper. “No.”

I hide a smile. My date is a secret conspiracy theorist.

She asks me the same question. I don’t need to think about this one.

“You,” I say, and I really mean it too. I’d like to have dinner with her and find out the great secret she is hiding. Why she thinks she is so unloveable.

“Me?” she asks.

“Yeah, you.”

We stare at each other. Her eyes look gold. Some great hurt shines in them. Then the waiter comes to refill our glasses and it is gone.

I ask for her favorite color.

“Blue,” she says, a smile coming back to her eyes. “You?”

I smile. “Blue.”

“Oh my God. I can’t believe it. We finally found something we agree about.”

Salvatore starts singing. Her eyes become misty. We have dessert. Creamy tiramisu. I watch her eat it and feel my gut tighten. This is my girl. I’m never stopping until I make her mine. For life. We order coffee. Salvatore brings flaming Sambucas with them. We blow out the flames and down them. She laughs. There is color in her cheeks and her eyes are shining.

“More coffee?” I ask, my hands hungry to roam her flesh.

She nods happily.

As we leave she stumbles against me. I grab her slim waist and steady her. She looks up at me.

“Thank you. This has been the best night of my life,” she whispers.