Chapter 1
Strange as it may seem VENICE will always be spelled DEATH for me.
I lie sleepless in the grand bed of the grandest bridal suite at the “Royal Danieli Hotel”. The night shimmers with reflections of slate grey silhouettes of palaces and churches bathed in blue spotlights. A gondola passes at full lick the lollipops of the mooring poles and recedes into the shadows. Mirrored in the water of the canals, Venice, the doomed Titanic, floats on a lake of glass. Popping out of my drum-tight skin, my eyes, scorched chestnuts, stare into the heart of my darkness.
I was no good with love. I am no good without love. I am a good-for-nothing girl. Leo’s sleep-tousled hair is spread out graciously upon the pillow. I grudge him for his regular, peaceful breath, for his ever-lasting, all-defying poise. Since Milan’s death sleep avoids me. His suicide is an everlasting nightmare, too frightening to allow me to rest.
I prop myself up upon my elbow and examine Leo’s uniquely lovely face. It reminds me of his father who knew all a perfect lover knows about love yet failed to bear its consequences. Poor Egon! His whole life has been a search for an impossible dream of walking into a young girl’s arms to assuage his quest for youth. Foolish Egon, ruined by his absurd illusion to be redeemed by a girl like me!
Disturbed by my penetrating stare, Leo heaves a languorous sigh. Is he dreaming about his gorgeous play-mate Bessie? Would I get rid of my unbearable longing stepping in for her? Would I thus be exorcised of my guilt for Milan’s death? Making love isn’t Leo’s and mine problem. Feeling it is. I rouse Leo with a kiss. We practise all the kinks and tricks his father taught us. I straight from him; Leo by proxy of his mother.
The love-match finished, Leo kisses my hand and falls asleep. Numb with cold, I wrap myself up in the blanket. Trembling with chilling loneliness, I would sell my soul to get Milan back, were it just for a split second.
I flash a glance at my resting husband. If it would help to resuscitate Milan, I would do ANYTHING to get rid of him. Poor Leo! I should be grateful for his ever-obliging goodwill to soothe my guilt with his polished sex!
All edgy and tense, I frown upon my wedded lover, sleeping our catch-as-catch-can off. I hunger for Beda slipping my icy feet under his baggy sweater, nursing a viper upon his bosom. I hanker for Egon’s after-love joint, blowing my spleen sky-high.
