Sweet revenge

When I opened my eyes, I was lying on the couch at Ed’s working room, my feet resting on a cushion, slightly higher than my head. He looked at me every now and then out of the corner of his eye, while he worked with his laptop on his thighs and his feet on the table.

- How do you feel? –he asked coldly when he saw I was awake-
- Not too bad, considering that since I was abducted and confined here I’ve been ceaselessly scared by ghost women, vampire-looking butlers, pied pipers, a zillion mice and a 300-year-old editor who gets upset at me for silly things I said but don’t really mean. –I hissed, my blood boiling-.

He listened to me patiently.

- Have you already finished your rant? –he asked-
- Yes! –I shouted, real cross-.
- Good.
- What happened before I fainted? –I asked, a bit confused-
- You were here with Ioana, reading my book on the page that talks about you –he said, calmly-

Ooh, shit, yes, I remembered that immediately. The paragraph about a jet black haired, brown eyed Virgo girl with a dark mole on her left boob and blah blah blah. It was –supposedly- me.

- It could be anyone –I said-.
- No Leni, it’s you. -he replied-
- How can you possibly be so sure? There must be loads of girls in the world who would fit that description.
- Because I saw your face. –he said, staring at me-.

I didn't expect that. He left me speechless.

- And tell me… what makes you think you can read my book? –he asked, a bit upset-
- You told me about the book some weeks ago. Ioana showed it to me. I didn’t know it was private! –I answered-.
- It IS private. Didn’t your parents teach you to ask for permission? –he asked, laughing ironically without even looking up from his laptop-

He was scaring me a bit, talking to me like that, but I ignored his rudeness. He continued typing quietly for some minutes. Then, he left his laptop on the table, stood up and walked towards me. I sat up on the couch and stepped back, afraid. He pinched my chin in his fingers and whispered:

- Face me.

I looked into his mischievously twinkling blue-greyish eyes.


- I don’t give a fucking shit whether you like it or not. I wrote that long before you were born. And it was one of the clearer visions I ever had about my future. But don’t fool yourself. Don’t think I love you just because I had a dream about you. Not even because I think you’re hot. It’s because I love your mind and soul. But, in your own words… enough emotional porn, baby.

He was real good at hitting back.

- There’s no need to be rude. Take me home. –I said, with a low voice-
- Yeah, country roads. –he laughed-. I’m sorry honey, but last plane to South Sandwich took off at 1PM, so you’re leaving tomorrow. I’ll drive you to the airport and make sure you’re booked on the first flight back home.

I felt very disappointed to hear that.

- Are you throwing me out??? –I asked-
- Kind of. -he answered, very calm-
- What about our book?
- That’s history, babe. You can keep my chapters and Hellgirl will get the copyright. I’ll find you a publisher and your problems will be over. I’ll make sure your book is a best seller under Hellgirl’s name. And now I declare our association formally dissolved. –he chuckled-
- That’s not fun at all. Why are you so cruel to me? –I cried-
- Who’s being cruel to whom? –he asked, raising his voice-
- I’m harmless!
- You harmless? You’re adorable, tender and sweet; but not harmless. You’re a danger to men! –he laughed-

That really pissed me off. I rushed to the corridor. As I walked to my room, back in the second floor, I passed in front of Angus Davies’ picture. Ed’s nasty ancestor didn’t miss the chance to shout at me: “Good riddance!”.

I was fed up with that one; with the Seashell Islands; with Ed and Angus Davies; with their mansion called Cape Hope and with everything. So I unhooked the picture and turned it over. Angus Davies was now facing the wall. He couldn’t see me and I couldn’t hear him anymore. I had always wanted to do that.

- I have had it! Hasta la vista, baby! –I laughed-

That night I packed my bags. It was a sad end to my summer holidays. At 5.30 PM, the butler knocked on my door.

- Miss Qinan, Lord Davies would like you to join him for dinner at 7.00PM at the blue room.
- I’ll be there. –I said-

I didn’t really feel like having dinner at the blue room -which was Ed’s room- but didn’t want to leave Ed’s house in bitterness either. So I chose a purple dress for the occasion and dolled up to say goodnight and goodbye to him until who knows when.

- Thanks for joining me, Leni. –he said, smiling very politely when he saw me-.
- It’s my pleasure. –I smiled-

He took my hand and we sat at the table, very quiet, pretending that nothing had happened between us. The unemotional butler served our dinner and left in silence, closing the door. I sticked the fork into the vegetables on my dish.

- You haven’t had a bite to eat, baby. Are you okay? –he asked-
- I’m fine, but not very hungry… actually, I came here just to make peace with you. –I answered-
- That’s nice. I appreciate.
- Will you write the book with me, Ed?
- Nope.
- Why not?
- You didn’t use the chance I gave you. You have done nothing to deserve a second chance. –he chuckled-

Normally I would get irritated to hear that, but not this time.

I had a strange reaction, and I still can’t explain this but I felt the irresistible desire of seducing him. I kicked off my heels and started rubbing his leg with my foot. I couldn’t help it.

- I hate you.-I whispered-
- I hate you too. –he smirked-

His eyes became dark blue and glowed as he gazed at me. I stretched my leg to reach his thigh and increased the rubbing. That excited him big time.

My dark ruby stone was shining intensely in my small handbag. I tried my luck and stretched my leg once more to reach his trouser zipper. I could feel it was starting to push into the sole of my foot. I gently put some pressure there. He was still very quiet.

I crawled under the round table where we were having dinner, which was covered by a large white napkin, hanging like a swag from the edge. I laid on the carpet, my heart beating like a machine gun, aching for him. I undid the buttons of my purple dress, took it off, closed my eyes and started counting down out loud. “Ten, nine, eight, seven, six…”

He couldn’t resist the temptation: he lifted the napkin, rushed to my side and reached out his hand to stroke my breasts; my belly; my naked thighs.

- God I want to fuck you, Leni.

We kissed long and deep, both desperate for each other. I slipped a hand into his trousers. He let a moan out. I pulled his jeans and boxers down and laid on top of him. He pushed my string to the side and gently thrusted inside me.

Overwhelmed with urge and passion, soon I felt the world stop... and everything disappeared. Everything but a white cloud over me. I lost consciousness and control. I could only feel his scent; his perfect hands; his endless breathtaking kiss; his deep blue look.

I could feel him throbbing, pulsating inside me; and then, when he let a long groan from deep of his throat… I threw my head back, my whole body convulsing, shouting his name with pleasure.

My skin glowed with the exertion. He carried me in his arms to his bed, covered me tenderly with the silky sheets and laid beside me, fascinated. I smiled, rolled over from my belly to my back, as he spooned up against my body, whispering into my ear:

- Now say you don’t love me.

I didn’t say anything.





"I don't love you" (My Chemical Romance)

The third wife (II)

Lavinia floated on the air, holding her little baby. Stoicescu saw her and I quickly said to him:

- She was already leaving to the underworld, so no worries…

It seemed to me that I could convince him not to tell Ed about the presence of his second dead wife in the house. He would have gone mad if he knew she was there.

The mansion was silent and empty. When the butler left, Lavinia headed to the basement door. As a ghost, she simply crossed the wall with her baby. Contrary to common belief, ghosts can grab things and push doors. So she politely pulled the door handle down to let me in. Then, she told me to be very quiet and follow her.

During the days I spent at Cape Hope, I was confined in the second floor of the mansion and obviously, was not supposed to be prowling around; least of all at the cellar. So of course, I felt very curious about that area. Lavinia flew so fast down the corridors that it was quite hard for me to follow her.

I ran behind her, scared of darkness; of getting lost; of never finding my way out of that huge maze of endless corridors and be left there, wandering around for the rest of my life like a lost soul. What would Thumbling the Great have done in my place? Leaving a trace of pebbles -of course- but I had none. So I went back to the running race, trying by all means not to lose track of the ghost lady in white.

A tall man dressed in colourful garments approached us, playing a cheerful tune with his flute, followed by a crowd of mice trooping in. The man stopped and greeted Lavinia.

- Safe paths to Köppen Hill, Mr. Pied Piper. –she answered-

The piper waved goodbye and the mice followed him..

- What will happen in Köppen Hill? –I whispered-
- That’s the place where the mice will drown. In the river. Ed pays the piper in due course to clean the corridors every now and then. You know how the story goes.

Yes, since I was a kid I knew how the mind-boggling story went: if you don’t pay the mice-catcher, he comes back later to lure the children into a cave. Some legends and fairytales hold such an unbelievable amount of cruelty!

The piper bounced his way along the corridors, followed by the mice. I expected to see more fairytelians at any time, escaping from their books, but no. Thank God it didn’t happen. The coast was clear.

We arrived to a small room where Ioana -Ed’s cross first wife- was quietly embroidering a black tapestry. I remembered when she appeared in the car, shouted at me and called me bitch. She scared me to death. If the car hadn’t driven itself, I would have surely crashed right there.

- Welcome to my hideaway, Leni. –she said-
- Hello again, Ioana. And thanks. –I greeted-.
- I’m sorry to have scared you the other day. My sincere apologies for having been so rude to you. At that moment, I didn’t know you were predestined for Ed. I thought you were only fooling around.

Oh, THAT. AGAIN. I ignored her two last sentences and accepted her apologies.

- It’s ok. You gave me the shock of my life, but as you can see, I could survive. –I chuckled-

She smiled softly.

- We’re definitely leaving this world, Leni. –she sighed-
- I hope you mean YOU. Not ME. –I said, pointing at them in distress-
- That’s right.-she laughed-

Needless to say, I felt much better after hearing that.

- I see. Please, excuse my silly question, but… what am I supposed to say now? “That’s cool, have fun in the underworld?” or “What a pity you passed away?”. I’m afraid none of the answers is correct. -I said-

Both Ioana and Lavinia laughed loudly.

- We passed away long time ago, Leni and to our knowledge, the underworld is not exactly fun, but calm and harmony. Eventually, we will rest in peace with our children there. And you will marry Ed. It’s written. -said Ioana-
- And there you go again! –I protested, gesticulating-

Yes, I had heard that before, but it still knocked me out. I could even see the newspapers headlines reading: “Plutocratic Burdish publishing tycoon marries Sandwichian working girl. It was written in 'The book of life and death': Cinderella dreams come true!”

I always had a happy, simple and discreet little life. I was not used to hear that kind of stuff normally, so I couldn’t help trembling with fear. The shivering of my legs must have been so apparent under my miniskirt that she noticed immediately. And she didn’t miss the chance to let me know.

- Come on, that’s not so scary! –laughed Ioana-

That was absolutely debatable in my opinion, but I didn’t really feel like debating at the moment.

Three cute little girls dressed in green velvet, whose age appeared to be between four and eight years, entered the room and hid behind Ioana. The three of them bowed at me, shyly. I smiled at them. I knew I would be hearing soon the soulful story of their short lives, which would certainly touch me and overwhelm me with sadness.

- Meet my children, Leni: Yseult, Elsa and Ada. We contracted scarlet fever in the big epidemic of 1743. Sadly, in spite of his efforts, Ed couldn’t do anything but help us end our lives in a painless manner to have the sweetest death possible. –she said, with two small tears in her eyes-.

I had a lump in my throat when Ioana stopped speaking. I imagined Ed racked by despair and suffering to see his wife and children die. Why is life so cruel and terrible to those deserving better?

I could still hear from afar the echo of the Pied Piper flute’s soft music and the mice choir screams. The three girls stood in a ring, bounced and sang:

Ring around the rosy
A pocketful of posies
”Ashes, ashes”
We all fall down!

They laughed and clapped their hands. Their rhyme cheered us up.

- Ed needs a woman beside him and he loves you. -said Ioana, determined-
- Wait a second! Everybody here seems to take our marriage for granted. I wonder if my opinion counts! -I said-
- Oh, yes, of course it counts! It doesn’t necessarily have to be tomorrow. But don’t proclaim your singledom loudly, or by the time you want… you will have past your prime. -said Lavinia-
- Listen, ladies. Obviously, we come from different sets of circumstance. Marriage is not my goal in life. It’s neither the key to happiness nor a prerequisite for cohabitation in the 21st century. -I complained-

They gasped, very shocked.

- Yeah, we know how flighty women are nowadays. –said Ioana, annoyed-
- Hey, don’t judge me with your old standards. Times change. –I spoke back-
- Anyway… as I said before, it’s your fate. Let me show it to you. –insisted Ioana-.

She took me to Ed’s working room. The “Book of life and death” –a thick volume whose front and back cover were carved in black wood- was placed on a lectern. Ioana opened it on page 110969, related to the year 2008 and started reading:

“In the month of June, in this Year of Grace, my own destiny and fate will be determined by a young foreign woman born with the sun in Virgo. I will recognize her by her jet black hair, brown eyes and a peculiar body mark: a dark mole on her left breast. But her mind and warmth will bewitch me hopelessly, rather more than her outstanding beauty. I will marry her and we will live happy together for the rest of our lives”

WHAT??? OUTSTANDING BEAUTY??? FOR THE REST OF OUR LIVES???

GIVE ME A BREAK!!!

Ioanna closed the book. I had spotty visions. In other circumstances I would have laughed real loud, but I now couldn’t. I was so paralysed with fear that I could hardly move.

I was getting dizzy, quick black-out and fainted, collapsing on the floor.

"Hayling" (FC Kahuna feat. Hafdis Huld)

To think about all those things you fear... just be glad to be here.

The third wife (I)

There was total silence until the end of our short journey. Only the ship engine and the sound of the waves breaking on the keel were heard as we approached the jetty. Ed looked straight ahead, pretending to ignore me. His coldness and indifference were killing me, but I suppose I asked for it.

Hellgirl warned me about Ed’s moods. But she never told me he was as sensitive and moody as hell.

It was nice to play this little game with him for some weeks. Of course, I knew he was serious and his soft spot for me was growing into something bigger. He had sent me a zillion signals I systematically and deliberately ignored, naïvely trying to be loyal and faithful to my former engagement –or whatever the hell it was- with Bob. And yet I played with fire.

And love, the big word: a simple name for a beautiful feeling. Like a slow dance in the moonlight, or the steady flight of a thousand fireflies in the dark of night. Sometimes just an illusion caused by twisted perceptions of reality; followed by excruciatingly unfair balance from the fight over always giving and never getting; ended by fear to useless efforts clashing against numb bodies of no senses, commonly known as rejection and unrequittance.

I had a taste for danger and a clear inclination for silliness; I could be blamed for double-crossing someone, but whom?

When we arrived on solid ground, he jumped off the ship and helped me get to the deck. There, he held my wrists firmly and gazing into my eyes, said:

- Go now, while you can.
- I’m not going.
- Leni, don’t make this harder than it has to be. –he said, raising his voice-
- I’m not going! We have to finish our book! –I whined-
- Go.
- You got cranky because I said ‘Emotional porn’?
- I got cranky because you hurt me, but I’m not going to discuss it with you.
- I’m sorry.
- It’s so easy to say ‘I’m sorry’.
- I didn’t mean to hurt you.

He didn’t answer; he quietly turned his back on me instead and walked towards the mansion. I rushed beside him.

- Ed.
- Yes? –he said, still walking-
- I’m not going. -I insisted-
- You can do as you please, honey. I don’t give a fucking shit. Not anymore.

That finished me.

- But we’re writing a book… - I said-
- You're good enough to finish on your own. You don’t need me. Go!

He kept on walking, leaving me behind. I called him several times but he wouldn’t turn round. My natural empathy started working after the mess I had made and was totally responsible for: when Ed disappeared into thin air, I felt the deep sting of disappointment.

- How can you possibly be so silly, Leni Q? There’s a thin line between loyalty and stupidity and you're crossing it all the time. –said a woman’s voice behind me-

Jeez, another supernatural offering advice. It was Lavinia, Ed’s second dead wife, the less scary of both. She held in her arms a little blond baby boy.

- Hello again, Lavinia.
- Hello, Leni. This is Seymour, my baby. –she said, smiling-
- Aww… he’s so cute –I said, stroking his blond curls-
- He was six months old when our ship wrecked in the Ocean, on our way to the colonies –she answered-. Then… time stopped.
- You mean you... died?

She nodded. The whole story was becoming very scary, as usual. I was talking to the ghost of Ed’s second wife and son. I got the shivers.

- Leni Qinan, it’s written in “The book of life and death” that you’ll be Edward Davies’s third wife and will make him happy for the rest of his life. -she said-
- Come on, Lavinia. That’s just nonsense. Do you really believe that? -I asked-
- Of course, I do. Every man has his own destiny and Ed is blessed with true visions of the future.
- That’s just because of his wild imagination. Nobody can predict the future.
- He can.

I stared into her blue eyes and she nodded again.

- How can he possibly tell the future and not be mad, having lost his two wives and four kids? –I asked-. Every man is the architect of his fate, Lavinia. I refuse to accept alternate options.
- You’re wrong. Ed can predict the future and he’s waiting for you. –she whispered-.

Damn. She left me speechless.

- Ok. If and only if, supposing I had no choice but becoming Ed’s third wife, I’d like to know something more about him, right? –I asked, very curious-
- His story is a sad one: He was a good man, born in Burdishland three centuries ago and a good physician in the king’s court. We had a happy but short marriage: he was sent to the colonies, to stop the Black Death. We travelled with him and... died in the shipwreck. Ed survived, but almost died of loneliness when Seymour and I passed away. Then he became a gloomy chemist; an isolated third rate healer who focussed on preparing useless concoctions to bring people back to life. In bitterness and desperation, he intended to make a deal with the devil to revive Seymour and me, forgetting that not even the devil can do that. Hopeless and alone, he hid in the old streets of Vienna, drowning in pain. He became addicted to absinthe, opium and cocaine. He begged the devil for mercy and asked him to take his life. But the devil tempted him with money, success and a long life.

- It's a very sad story. I know the rest, thanks. -I said, with a low voice-

Lavinia looked down sadly.

- The other day he asked you and Ioana to go back to your… world. -I said-
- That’s right. But you mistakenly thought we appeared here because we were jealous, right?
- Eew… yes.

Lavinia laughed loud.

- You’re making a big mistake again, Leni. Ioana and I are dead. Ashes to ashes. Dust to dust. You must take over as Ed’s wife. That’s the reason why we were here. He needs you. –she said, solemnly-
- Hey hey hey… wait a second! This could be very cool in the eighteenth century, when you guys lived, but we’re in 2008 now. We have cars and planes and internet and women’s lib. But I’m here to write a book, not to marry the editor! –I shouted in panic-. Wouldn't it be simpler to bring you and Seymour back here?
- That can’t be possible, as I said before.
- What if he travelled to your world?
- The devil gave him a long life. It’s not death time for him yet.
- Gosh… but why me??? -I shouted-
- It’s written, Leni. You will be Ed’s third wife. You can't change that.

And to think I was there to spend some quiet holidays! Everything was becoming sinister and evil. I remembered Ed’s words: “Go now, while you can”. It sounded like a terrible forebonding of what could be happening to me. Everybody was assuming what was written in that book.

- There’s a busy world under the building's foudations. Ed usually spends some time down there. Would you like to pay a visit? –she asked, challenging me-

I was not sure if it was a good idea, but curiosity made me answer hastily:

- Yes.

She wrapped Seymour in a white blanket and floated on the air, beautiful and light as a feather. Her immaculate dress dragged on the floor. I followed her as fast as I could to the house.




"Trust" (The Cure)

Stone gardens

I wrote Moonshine killed a shade of grey’s second chapter immediately and as agreed, I e-mailed it to Ed. The information flow continued until chapter 8, when I lost my cool. I couldn't bear any more loneliness.

My next e-mail to him was a consequence of my frustration and solitude in that big mansion:

“Tell me were you are. If I can’t see you soon, I’ll do everything I can to get out of here. Leni.”

The day after at 8:00 AM sharp, Stoicescu the Romanian butler knocked on my door, as he did every morning when he brought me the breakfast tray.

- I have a message for you from Lord Davies –he said, handing me a note-

The note said:

“You’re free to leave Cape Hope when you please. Ed.”

I hated him.

- Where is Lord Davies? I won’t accept a quiet smile as an answer. –I asked, very upset-
- Lord Davies is sailing, Ms Qinan. –he answered, smirking-

Wow. Sailing. That was new. Ed never mentioned he sailed.

I quickly drank the coffee and orange juice, put my shorts and top on and rushed to the jetty. And guess who was there: The genuine, the matchless, the incomparable and unbeatable Hellgirl with Percival, her yucky servant.

- Long time no see, Leni. –said Hellgirl-
- Yeah, how are you doing, Hellgirl? –I asked-
- I’m fine, thanks. I heard your Bobby man is again missing and you’re quite sad, but writing a lot. That’s good news. We’re all very proud of you in Hell. I can’t wait to read my book.
- Thanks. You will soon, I think.
- What are you doing here, at the jetty? –she asked-
- I’m waiting for Ed. I haven’t seen him for almost one week and I won’t move from here until he comes back. –I said-
- Hm… that sounds like… -she started-
- Don’t tell me what that sounds like because I know it very well. –I interrupted-
- Oh, I won’t say anything then. –she said, chuckling-

Percy, the small red devil, flew around me singing:

- Leni misses Ed, Leni misses Ed…

He couldn’t sing his little song it for the third time, because I slapped him so hard on the face that he plunged into the water. He emerged very irritated, shouting:

- Next time I’ll burn your lovely earlobes and earrings, Leni. By the way, where is your Bob Gausman? -asked Percy-
- I don’t fucking know, little twat! -I answered-
- Uh oh, sensitive point, it seems!
- Man, you’re obnoxious! You’re a real jerk!!!

He couldn’t stop laughing. I was going to smash his face up badly again, when Hellgirl stopped my hand and said to him:

- Enough, Percy. Now go hide somewhere and leave us alone, please. Leni is a bit… cranky today. Don’t upset her more.

Percy left, grumbling. Hellgirl and I stood there, quietly listening to the waves for almost ten minutes.

- Waiting again, Leni? How come these guys always leave you on your own? -asked Hellgirl-
- I don’t know. -I said, looking down-
- I told you not to give your heart to a man again. Least of all your soul. But you're paying no fucking notice to what I say to you. Your obstinacy and obtuseness are beyond my understanding.
- I can’t control my feelings. Can you? –I asked, annoyed-
- Of course I can. I'm not human. –she smirked-
- How lucky. -I smiled at her, sarcastically-

Our short conversation was finished abruptly when a beautiful, super modern white ship approached. Some minutes after, I could read the name: Rubian, from Portsmouth. Ed was waving hello from the deck.

- Two is company. Three is a crowd. Who knows what four could be. –said Hellgirl, waving hello at Ed-. I have some business to attend to now, Leni, but I’ll see you again soon. Let’s go, Percy. We’re not necessary here.

She snapped her fingers and vanished in the air with Percy. The Rubian tied up to the jetty and Ed jumped on the deck.

- Hello sweet angel. –he said to me-

Blink.

Five seconds later:

- I said hello, darling. –he insisted-

Blink.

Five seconds later:

- I don’t want to think your turning a deaf ear to my greetings, Leni. So let me repeat myself: hello, baby.

Blink. And five seconds later I pointed at him with a threatening finger and shouted:

- Fucking hell!!! Where on earth have you been all these days? Why have you left me alone with your domestic freaks? I have been waiting for you for one week!! I hate you!!!

I turned back. I didn’t realise the butler was standing behind me.

- Oooh man, I’m sorry… I didn’t mean you… -I apologized at the butler, with a low voice-.
- Never mind, Ms Qinan.–said Stoicescu, serious-
- So tell me, Leni… have you really been waiting for me? Or is this one of your regular Sandwichian rants? –asked Ed, holding out his hand to me-.

I didn’t answer, but looked daggers at him.

- Stop being silly. Come on in and sail with me. I have left you on your own because I had some business to attend to and I wanted you to write. And for heaven’s sake, I don’t have to explain anything to you! –he said, a bit annoyed-.

I jumped on the ship deck. Ed took the helm and the Rubian started sailing slowly near the coast.

- What business made you forget I was here? –I asked-
- And what do you care? Is this a burning question? -he answered-.
- Yes. Why couldn't you just tell me you were busy? Why are you so reluctant to tell me about you?
- What do you want to know about me?
- Everything. You took advantage of me being sloshed on the plane to Orsinia and I told you who I am and what I do.
- Oh… did I really do that? –he asked-

He must have found me really funny, because the more upset I got, the more he laughed.

-Ed, have you got Alzheimer’s disease? I told you I’m a Sandwichian lawyer; I’m the Chief of Staff of Dumbass Industries’ Managing Director and I’m not happy at all with that, because I’d like to be a writer but I need a day job… I even showed you my left boob! -I whined-
- Stop. It’s nice to know all that and I really appreciate your trust, but this is not what I want to know. Your profession and job won’t tell me much about you. I prefer to look at you with my heart. I want to hear about your feelings; your dreams and hopes; your fears and pains; why your life becomes either an emotional rollercoaster or an abyss of love. I’m not interested about how you earn your living.

That sudden display of honesty left me completely speechless.

- What difference does it make if I’m an editor, a physician, a beggar or a king? I’ll still be the same old grumpy bastard. –he laughed-. And mystery has its charms.
- Mystery is not that beautiful sometimes. You should understand the reasons why I’m curious about you.
- I do. And I’m curious about you too, honey. But don’t google me yet. Try to discover something before.

That sounded quite reasonable and I stopped asking.

- Look right. There’s a stone garden over there.

I looked at the stones covered with moss. Small paths were outlined by grey tombstones. Wild coloured flowers had grown in the cracks. Red ivy climbed on the weird shaped rocks. Life emerged from death and both were mixed in a strange way.

- It’s a dead garden, but it has its beauty, although you may not realise that: you’re alive and authentic. -he said-
- Are you not? –I asked-
- My heart’s still beating, steady and strong. You should know that.–he said, staring at me-
- Oh Ed, please. Stop the emotional porn.

Why did I say that? Was it because I felt so embarrassed when he spoke about his feelings? Or because I knew he was taking his time to lift the veil on something more important? It was real hard to date a 295 year-old man.

I immediately realised I had hurt him with my stupid remark. He stared at me and flew into a rage.

- You despise me, don’t you? –he whispered-
- No… I don’t –I said, looking down-. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cause you pain. I don’t even know why I said that –I cried-
- You can’t cause me pain, Leni. Not anymore. Let’s go back. You’re free to go whenever you want. –he said shortly-
- No. I'll to stay here until we finish the book. -I said, determined-

He headed to the jetty. A cold wind was blowing. I waited for him to speak, but he didn’t mutter a word.



"Cold wind" (Arcade fire)

Moonshine killed a shade of grey

- What the fuck do you mean you’re not writing anymore??? –asked Ed-
- I mean I give up! –I answered-
- What’s wrong with you? Have you been staring at the leftovers heating in the microwave oven for too long until your brains were completely burnt? Come on, baby, what makes you think you can give up? You just can’t!–he said, raising his voice-
- I won’t be selling! –I cried-
- No way! You will! Leave that to me: I’m the editor. You’re not going to surrender now! Stop whining like a spoiled baby and start writing! -he said, pushing the laptop towards me-. Just in case you forgot, let me remind you what the situation is: you made a bet with Hell; you lost and now you have to pay your debt writing a book. And I have to publish that book, or you will be doomed to burn in Hell forever.

He was very right.

- Where do I start? -I cried-
- The answer is simple… you’re a writer, so put your thinking cap on! I won’t let you go until the book is finished! –he shouted at me-. But as I said before, I will help you. Inspiration won’t come easy if you don’t focus, and you’re not focussing at all. Put on the black diamond I gave you, please.

Orders are orders. I looked for it in my jewel box and wore it. I didn't dare ask if it had some mysterious inspirational energy or something. He quietly sat on his chair and said seriously:

- I’ll start writing the title and the two first pages. Then it will be your turn to continue. When you finish the second chapter, I’ll do the third one and so on.

I nodded, accepting the deal. What else could I do?

- The deadline will be … the end of your holidays. –he said solemnly-
- Come off it! –I complained-
- You will stay here and finish the book by the 31st of August … or it will be doomsday for the two of us!

So my holidays were planned. I would spend my summer vacation at Cape Hope, Ed Davies’s mansion at the Seashell Islands. I was a bit of a prisoner: not exactly encaged; not exactly free, either.

During the following days, I lived in a luxurious room with an impressive view to the sea, where I led an orderly existence and had everything I wanted, except -of course- freedom of movement.

Stoicescu, the Romanian butler, knocked on my door every morning at 8:00 AM sharp and brought me a tray with energy breakfast.

- I can’t eat all that. I will get fat like a whale if I do. –I protested-
- I don’t think this could possibly happen, Ms Qinan. You’re very skinny, if you allow me the expression. –he said, politely-

I allowed him, he was right.

I had books; music; films; a laptop; good internet connection; a private beach where I had a swim every morning; the most delicious diet; peace of mind and all the time I needed. I even had a complete and fashionable wardrobe, including the most expensive designer’s clothes. Oh, and the cuttiest hairpins collection I had ever seen. Ed knew I love them.

I worked hard and used to fall asleep early at night, exhausted from my writing. The sea breeze and my lonely walks on the beach granted me a good night sleep. But I didn’t hear from Ed for five days.

Normally, I can stand loneliness fairly well. I even enjoy being on my own from time to time, daydreaming or lost in my world of fantasies and thoughts. But I started missing him badly and soon I fell into a state of deep blues. That feeling helped me writing, though. Love; sadness; happiness; hate; despair. These are the emotions and feelings that trigger my inspiration shaking my mind and soul, making my imagination work hectically, moving me to write. He knew that very well.

On the sixth day, I got this e-mail from him:

“Leni,

Here’s the first chapter of your book. The title of this work is “Moonshine killed a shade of grey”. I have no idea what that it means, but the story will start writing itself as soon as we’re comfortable writing together. Read it, please, and tell me what you think.

Ed.”

It made me smile. I opened the attachment eagerly:

“Moonshine killed a shade of grey – Chapter one:

I am not sure if all this has happened or my sick mind led me to believe that this incredible story ever took place in my life…”

I read the whole chapter carefully and it was good; very good; so good that I couldn’t wait to start writing the second instalment. The fact that he would want to share his writing skills and fantasies with me without conditions, touched me very deeply.

Stoicescu was my only company at that time, but to be honest… the loyal Romanian butler was not much of a company. Every day I asked him:

- Is Lord Davies in the house?

But he never answered me. He just smiled confidently and nodded.

The night after, there was a terrible thunderstorm at Cape Hope. It was very hot and I was in bed, barely dressed. The windows were open and the closed curtains were swinging with the wind.

It was 2:00 AM and I woke up at the terrible sound of a huge thunder. I buried my face in the pillow, expecting the storm would finish soon. I closed my eyes and suddenly had strange visions, lost in the mists of my dreams. But was it a dream… or was it happening for real? I still don’t know.

I suddenly felt a quiet presence beside me. In my twilight sleep, I turned to lay on my back, so that I could see who it was.

- You look so beautiful when you’re asleep, baby. Did you know that?

I saw Ed sitting on one side of my bed, gazing into my eyes. I whispered incomprehensible words in a weird language he couldn’t understand. He put his ear near to my mouth and my breath tickled him.

- I don’t understand you, honey. But you sound so lovely. –he said with a low voice-

The thunders were fading down. The storm moved away. He stared at me intensely and took his time to stop at every small detail.

- I love the small folds in your neck when you turn your head to the side; the hidden parts of your body when you move; your earlobes; the delicate holes for your earrings; your eyelashes vibrating when you dream; your tongue moistening your lips from time to time; your small breasts gently rising, gently falling when you breathe. –he said-

He bent over and blew softly on my belly. I think I arched my back with pleasure when he did that. Then he kissed my inner thighs, slowly, gently and his fingers smoothly outlined my pubic hair. I vaguely remember rolling over onto my back and hissing, responding to the intensively dreamy foreplay closing my legs. But... was it real, or was it just my dream?

It was tricky for him to continue the kissing without waking me up, so he turned off to my hips. He touched me only with his lips, softly and imperceptibly, as the touch of a feather.

I laid face down. He pushed to the side some strands of my hair falling on my shoulders and neck, to kiss my hairline. And then his tongue, gliding along my spine, draw an imaginary line from my neck to my lower back. That made me shiver. I remember moaning and protesting weakly when he stopped.

He finally covered me with the silky sheet and his hand followed the shape of my body under the fabric.

- Sweet dreams, darling. I will be watching your sleep. –he whispered, vanishing in the dark of night-

"Touch me with your love" (Beth Orton)

Stories together

- How the fuck did I get here? –I asked Ed, very angry-
- Hm. Hello and I love you too. –he answered- I brought you here.-he said, solemnly-.
- And the sporty car?
- I did that as well. Just to amuse you.
- I almost thought I was in the red!
- Sorry for that, but no. You’re not. I paid for all that.

He stared into my eyes. I lowered my look, a bit intimidated.

- You deserve more than just a mid-range rental car and a standard 4-star hotel full-board room, princess. Excuse me, but that’s so… cheesy. -he said, overdoing a bit-
- I can understand why you find my plebian holidays so cheesy, Mylord –I said-
- Hey. Child. There’s no need to be nasty.

Our conversation was suddenly interrupted by some angry voices that could be heard out of the library. Two women shouted in a strange language I coulnd’t identify. I recognised one of them: she was the corpse bride in grey gown who had appeared beside me in the red convertible. The other one was younger. She dressed in black velvet and her face was as pale as a ghost. Continuing with comparisons, both of them were as angry as two angry bears. They stopped by the door, followed by the butler.

- I’m sorry, Mylord, I couldn’t stop them. –apologized the butler, sadly-
- It’s ok, Stoicescu, don’t worry. –answered Ed-

So my old friend the butler’s name was Stoicescu. That sounded quite Romanian. Probably Transilvanian, like the vampires! Ed turned to the women.

- What brings you here again, ladies? Didn’t I tell you to stay in your home, resting in peace? Didn’t I tell you you don’t belong to this world anymore? –he asked with a voice from beyond the grave, that really frightened me-. You can’t be wandering among the living persons.

The scary ladies looked down and then alternatively at me. Things were looking bad and I thought it was time to buzz off.

- Ehem… sorry to interrupt this interesting meeting; I would be very delighted to stay here, but I have something to do in town, like going to my hotel and unpacking my luggage, so if you excuse me… I really need to go. -I said-
- Ooh, no no no –said the two women in unison, gesturing-. No way.
- Why not? –I asked, looking at Ed, who stared very serious at the scene-
- We are here because of YOU –said the corpse bride, rudely pointing at me, strongly emphasizing her words-

That was the last drop.

- Leni, meet Ioana and Lavinia, my two beloved wives. Ladies, this is Leni, a good friend of mine.-said Ed-.
- Edward! What do you mean… a friend? –they shouted, very offended-

Ed pointed at them with a threatening finger, saying:

- That’s not what we agreed! Now go back where you belong, play harp, sing with the angels, fly like the wind, or sleep on the clouds, my dearest wives… there’s no room for you here.

The beautiful Ioana, who appeared to be the youngest one, pointed at me and asked:

- Who is she? And what is she doing here?
- She’s going to write a book for me. And that’s that! –answered Ed- Now let me kiss you goodbye.

Ioana and Lavinia floated two handspans over the floor and went to him, just as a ghost would have done. Ed kissed them tenderly on the forehead.

- My dear loves, go now. We will meet again, that’s a promise.

They calmed down, hugged him and then vanished. This was crazy.

- Don’t tell me they know the story of the Virgo girl with a black mole on her left breast who will be your third wife and make you happy for the rest of your life -I asked-
- Nah. –he said with a nasty look-
- Good. I wouldn’t like to suffer from permanent deathly nightmares for the rest of my life.

He laughed.

- You will if you don’t write that book.
- Oh, I’m trembling with fear –I said, sarcastically-
- Baby, I didn’t bring you here just to let you spend your holidays but to help you write the book you promised to Hellgirl. You have a deadline, remember?
- What??? You mean you brought me here?
- I certainly did. –he said, nodding-

Since the very first day I got in touch with the supernatural world, I was not at all in control of my life. I was a puppet in the hands of a number of strange beings who were playing yo-yo with my destiny.

Ed opened a drawer of the wooden library, took a notepad and a pencil and left it in front of me.

- Write. –he ordered, kind but firm-
- I don’t use those. I need a laptop.

He didn’t say anything; opened another drawer and took a small red laptop –actually, it was such a cutie toy that I thought I could write anything on it-. He put it on the table and said:

- It’s yours. So… write. The views are amazing here. You have books, music, films and an excellent internet connection. Anything you need to get some inspiration. Therefore, you have no excuse.
- I have no idea what I’m going to write about.
- Listen, dear. I will help you this time.
- Thanks but I heard this before. Then I will have to pay you for that, right?
- No. Don’t be so sensitive, I won’t charge you for my sincere help.
- Then let’s hear about that altruistic help.
- We’ll write the story together.

I looked at him, very intriggued. It made me smile. Sharing intellectual abilities sounded amazingly interesting. It was… challenging and irresistible. I couldn’t help smiling.

- I’ll start the story and you will continue it. And we may get a nice book. Have you ever done that?
- No, never. But when I was a slave, I heard some slave girls did it to entertain their Masters. But I never did. I have always written on my own.
- Leni… you have been a slave? –he asked, ver surprised-

I blushed and looked down.

- Yes –I whispered-
- Tell me about it.
- I’m not exactly proud of it and it’s a long and silly roleplay story.
- I have time to listen.
- I was the slave of a university professor for two months. Just that.
- What happened?
- I couldn’t stand his abusive treatment and dumped him when I was fed up with him.
- First time I hear a slave dumps a Master.
- Well, it happens. I did it.
- Congrats, baby. This guy didn’t deserve you. And I hate him. Mistreat is not a game.
- Thanks, Ed. I appreciate.
- Good. Let me be the first one to write with you.

There was a strong desire behind these words. They sounded really sexual to me, rather than just platonic and altruistic help. I didn’t realise how clever he was until that moment: he knew I felt an irresistible attraction for clever men and he was tempting me with the offer of a mind game that I would accept blindly.

- Baby, you need to write that book or Hellgirl will get mad at you. That gal is powerful and could do you some harm if you don’t give her what she asked for. I don’t understand why you made that silly deal with her for nothing.- he said-
- That is none of your business, Ed.
- For nothing!!! Where the fuck was he when you needed him most? –he shouted in anger-

He had never shouted at me before; but he was right.

Some days ago I had read in a Sandwichian newspaper an article about a Zantlander woman who had been living in an airport for the last seven years. She left everything behind to meet her man, but he would never appear. Yet she would be there, waiting, for seven long years or whatever it took until he appeared.

Hope is the last thing we lose. We maintain our illusions until we get so used to our helpless irrational wait, that time loses dimension and the idea of surrendering becomes unbearable, not realising the desired meeting will never happen.

I have waited for endless hours and days: At Grodski Park, at the Rivers of Babylon, at the Rain Forests, longing to hear three words that were never pronounced for me: ‘I love you’.

So that morning at Cape Hope, when I finally realised my waiting was worthless, I made up my mind and agreed to start an association with Ed Davies: we would share our creativity, our minds and whatever it took to write a story together.

Way more than I had ever accepted from any man in my whole life.

"Hotel lounge (be the death of me)" (Deus)

Greetings from the Seashell Islands

Holidays. What a lovely word to think of when it’s 31st of july and your co-workers say something like:

- When are you leaving, Q?

This question was asked by one of my favourite twats.

- Tomorrow –I answered, smirking contemptuously-

I was leaving for two weeks. Sick and tired of waiting for Bob Gausman, my missing boyfriend, I decided to take a trip on my own. It would have been very nice to spend our summer vacation together, but it couldn’t be possible. I think some day I’ll see his picture plastered all over every milk carton in the country. Fuck.

I always wanted to visit the Seashell Islands, but being a working girl and paying a montly mortgage and car payment, my budget was skinny. So I googled ‘best offers summer 2008’ and found at lastminute.com a holiday-maker package including economy-class flight, rental car and full board standard 4-star hotel room.

The Seashell Islands are a beautiful beach resort, only four hours flying from Sandwich –my borderline to acute alcoholic coma-. But this time I managed to gain self-control, kept my cool and didn’t get sloshed after all.

When I arrived to the Seashells airport I got my luggage and headed to the car rental desk. I handed my voucher, passport and credit card to the girl behind the counter.

- Your Mercedes SLK convertible is parked on the third row at left. It’s red. -she said-
- It must be a mistake: I ordered a mid-range car, a Volkswagen Golf if possible –I said-

Wasn't it strange? When you rent a car beforehand, nobody tells you exactly what the model will be. It depends on the availability. You just get the guarantee that you will be given a car of a certain range. A small one, in my case. I couldn’t spend a fortune renting the car I always wanted to drive in my dreams.

- I’m sorry, Ms Qinan, the reservation number is correct. The computer says ‘red convertible Mercedes Benz SLK’ and it’s paid. -said the girl-
- How much you charged me? -I asked, very worried-
- I don’t know, it only says ‘PAID’.
- I ordered a small car, not an expensive sports car.
- If it’s our mistake, the company won’t charge you for the difference.
- Right.That’s fair, but how do I know you’ll admit it’s your mistake? Cause it’s not my mistake.

The manager turned up and said:

- Excuse me, Ms Qinan. It's not a mistake. And you won’t be charged for the difference.

I didn’t understand it, but he put the keys to the car into my hand and as he felt he didn’t need to explain anything else to me, he just turned and left. So I headed to the parking lot and deeply wowed to myself at the sight of the awesome red convertible Mercedes SLK. I decided to stop asking myself questions. It was their mistake, and it resulted in my favor. So that was settled. I jumped inside the car and ... just drove it.

But as soon as I did, I felt I was not on control of the car. The steering wheel would not turn to take the way I was supposed to go. I couldn’t change gear, either. It wouldn’t even stop when I put my foot on the break... because it drove itself.

When I realised what the situation was, I thought it was better to let it drive instead of uselessly getting cranky trying to control it. And yes, it was cool to be at the driver’s seat, resting my feet on the dashboard and leaning back on the headrest.

I closed my eyes to enjoy the fresh breeeze blowing on my face; my hair floating like a vapor, on the soft summer air… when I looked to the right and I saw a weird creature riding shotgun, that scared the hell out of me: a pale woman dressed in a grey wedding gown in shreds. She held in her hands a bouquet of black faded flowers.

I looked at her and yelled in a panic; she stared at me with contempt and said:

- Keep your hands of him or I'll kill you. He’s mine!
- What? Who? –I asked, in fear-

She pulled my t-shirt and shouted at me: “Ed is mine and only mine! Leave him alone, bitch!”. And she vanished in the air, leaving a trace of sparks.

I was terrified: starting my summer holidays in a car that drove itself, accompanied by some kind of crazy jealous corpse bride in a pissy mood. The smell of supernatural stuff stinked out all over the place again.

After crossing a dark forest, the red sporty car headed to a beautiful mansion in the east end of Cape Hope, as the traffic signs indicated all the way. The car stopped at the main door and I saw a familiar face there: Ed’s pale butler, who approached the car. I felt the déjà-vu flash, feeling sure that I had witnessed that situation previously:

- Welcome to Cape Hope, Ms Qinan. Lord Davies is waiting for you at the library. –he said, bowing solemnly-

Lord Davies??? Like Lord Voldemort, The Lord of the Rings… and Lord Vader???

And waiting for me??? Jeez, that pale ancestor of Woodehouse’s efficient Jeeves gave me the shivers!

So Ed was waiting for me in his mansion’s library once again. I certainly didn’t fit in the scenery in that occasion, with my hair tied back in a ponytail, wearing faded shorts and flip flops. A group of pale servants escorted him carrying my luggage, to disappear upstairs, gawd knows where to. I followed the loyal butler, who entered the room, stepped back and announced:

- Mylord, Ms Qinan is here.

Ed was sitting on a luxurious leather couch. He stood up and approached to greet me.

- Welcome, baby. It’s so nice to see you again. –he said, smiling a big smile at me-

In all honesty, I didn’t know what to say or do. He looked stunning in his black denim jeans and sleeveless grey shirt that showed mysterious tattoos on his arms. Snakes, enigmatic characters, dark clouds and blood drops mixed on his biceps. He had muscles everywhere. His long black hair tickled my face as he bent over to kiss me like he was trying to suck the life out of my body. He took my breath away.

I could feel deep into my heart his secret insecurities. He pretended to be steady but I knew he could be wax in my hands. It was written all over his face. And I had sensed some time ago, that everything seemed to be turning to tenderness and strange shades of affection between us.

"Love is a loosing game" (Amy Winehouse)