She stands in front of the villa straining her eyes for a man too long to come. Alex is late. How dare he treat as lowly his best asset on the sex exchange? At last, Elijah’s battered car stops by the garden gate, Alex gets out and nears Magda an apologetic smile on his lips.
“So sorry, Magda, we were stuck in a monstrous traffic jam. A propos, you look great! Suburbia suits you.” He says sweetly and she feels like killing him.
He leans upon her hand giving her offered lips a miss, no more her sex friend, just a business partner.
“I am putting Eli on your disposal and shall give you a ring when I’ve finished with Polland. Have a great time until then!” He flashes her conspiratorial wink and turns away with callous unconcern for her advances.
“Wait, Alex, not so fast! I have to talk to you.”
“Must it really be now, Magda?” He snaps.
“Would I ask you otherwise?” She bites her tongue to stop herself from telling something she might regret later on.
“OK, Magda, but make it short,”
“Are you aware that Polland intends to schlep me to Switzerland?”
“I am, actually, and find it a good idea, at least for the time being until the situation clear up. A propos, here is your new passport. Have a look. Will Magda Toth, spouse of Jean Petit do? Keeping your first names simplifies the matter. Learn the dates by heart. By the way, I made you ten years younger! Not that you need it!” He says teasingly disappearing inside the villa.
She shuffles her feet towards the waiting car chewing over Alex’s impertinence. What if she walked out on him and made Polland work for her?
“Hi, Eli!” She says in a most friendly way and seeing no harm in a little cuddle she settles on his knees.
“It was great! You are the best, Magda!” He sighs.
“It was the same for me, Eli! I miss you!” She whispers into his ear.
And great it really was, after Polland’s self centered greedy sex; sharing with Elijah in pleasure was a most welcome change.
“Now I must have a serious talk with you, Eli. Too many things happen that I am not ready for.”
“What about going to my place and discuss them over a glass of wine, Magda?”
“I don’t think so, Eli! I wish to have a serious conversation, not a pillow talk. The weather is fine. What about a bench at the Jardin de Luxembourg?” Magda offers ruffling Elijah’s hair.
“Start the car, we are decent, or nearly so.” She throws the soiled Kleenexes out of the window and gives herself a contented glance in her pocket mirror. She looks always better after good sex.
Driving through the lively streets she realizes how much she will miss Paris, how fast this city has become a part of her, how well this rambling helter-skelter corresponds to her riotous mind. She takes a deep breath of the exhaust fumes and draws it into her lungs with an aching sense of loss.
“Change of plans, Eli! Let’s go to the sidewalk café by the “Odéon”, you know the one you took me on our first day in Paris. We had an espresso spiked with Calvados and then you took me to “La Hune”, your trusted bookshop on the Boulevard Saint-Germain where everybody treated you like an old friend. You bought me “Arc de Triomphe” written by this famous German expatriate writer Erich Maria Remarque, the lover of Marlene Dietrich. This was the novel he wrote about and for her. And then, after making love, you read it for me holding me in your arms and we drank Calvados while you were recalling the scented orchards of the Normandy where Remarque and Dietrich were sharing lovingly their Calvados. Help me, I beg you, Eli! Leaving Paris and you will break my heart!” She hurls herself on his neck bursting into tears.
“Don’t cry my honey bee! It won’t be so bad! Every cloud has its silver lining. Just imagine the heaps of Swiss chocolate and the rivers of cream straight from the Alpine pastures; it will be like in Johanna Spyri’s “Heidi”, the dream book of every little girl. Here, have my hanky and blow your lovely nose. Look, aren’t we happy, a table at the “Danton” is just getting free, jump out and grab the seats while I’ll get somewhere somehow rid of the car.” Elijah propels her out with an affectionate smack at her bottom.
She straightens up her mini-miniskirt and, after having put her legs on display, feels alive again. Considering the circumstances she renounces on kicking off her vertiginously high heeled pumps that give her legs, a bit too short and plump, the little extra nature passed up. Her Manolo Blahnicks are pure hell, but oh so sexy! She shoots an envious glance at the Parisian girls dancing around on their stilettos as if they were born on them. Will she ever know how to move that daintily?
“An espresso with a Calvados chaser.” She orders giving her low-calories diet a miss. Her reclusive life with Polland is disastrous for her body and soul; she punches heinously her belly fat and draws her mini skirt over the disgrace. What else can expect a girl for whom a motion in bed with an unimaginative lover has become her one and only exercise? Even her breasts start losing their firmness pulled by Polland’s sturdy fingers, sucked on by his piggy lips! She feels all puffy and soft. She who has never cared about alcohol and drugs starts and ends her day on them to endure Polland’s slimy prick making her body to a deposit of his thick, whitish semen. She starts hating sex, she, Magda who never had enough of it.
“The same for me.” Elijah hails the waiter and pushes his chair nearer to Magda.
She gives his trim figure an appreciative glance. As for herself she has never been slim, even if her curves and her creamy flesh have been her best assets.
“Am I getting fat, Eli? I ask you for an honest answer!”
“Well, Magda, it’s not that you are fat but some working out wouldn’t harm you. Sincerely, you are still a dish. To your beauty!” He toasts Magda, orders a refill and then another and still another.
“Stop it, Eli! Don’t forget you have to drive!”
“Nope! We are taking a cab.” He assures her grinning happily.
“You know what, Magda? You are the sexiest girl in the whole world! Mirror, mirror on the wall who has the best tits of them all?”
“I have got a brilliant idea, Magda dear! Why don’t we go to my place, open a bottle of home-made Calvados I brought from my last trip to Normandy and let things happen!”
“Aren’t you brimming with bright ideas, Eli? You know what, I like it!”
He settles the check and hails a passing taxi. They fall into it one on the other and, in a fit of hilarious mirth, Elijah silences their mobiles.
“We are no one’s slaves, right, my little chickadee?”
“Very right, Eli!”
Leaning on each other for support they just about make it to the bed.
They are woken up by the strident ringing of Elijah’s fixed line. Extricating himself from Magda’s clutch Elijah bangs the receiver down and buries his face in Magda’s bosom not feeling ready to be confronted with the facts of life.
“What a racket! My head is killing me.” Magda moans.
“Do something about it, Eli, or let me die!”
“It can be easily done. The best hangover cure is to chase Satan by Lucifer. Let’s have the Calvados we didn’t have time to finish last night.”
He collects the bottle from under the bed and brings it to Magda’s lips. She swallows thirstily not giving the liquid sun of the Normandy orchards its full due.
“Feeling better, sweetheart?”
“Much better, thanks to you, Eli, you are the best!”
“The same goes for you, my one and only Magda. Sorry to be pushy but we have to think about next moves. Want a bite before discussing what to do?”
After having raided Elijah’s well equipped fridge they settle in a safe distance from each other to face their future not too rosy for either of them.
“It’s not only that I am not rich enough for your keep, my lover girl, but knowing Alex as well as I do he won’t allow me that easily to take you from him and, unfortunately for you, he will take revenge on both of us. Let’s hope he needs us too badly to chuck us out from his spy pack and make our lives to hell which he can do as I have frequently witnessed. If I were you I would go back to Polland. Make him so smashed at dinner that he won’t last long in bed.”
“Don’t you resent it at all that Polland is banging me, Eli?”
“How could I? A job is a job. And compared to what you get out of it, it’s a very well paid chore. I’ll give Alex a ring, assure him all is back to order and he can count on our full support. He is too much of a professional to prefer vengeance to the profit he gets from you. A world-wise man like Alex won’t take our little escapade seriously. Flesh is weak; doesn’t he know it only too well?”
“OK, Eli, I’ll do as you tell me. Though I’ll ask Alex for a couple of adjustments; more time out, better food which means a gourmet take-away delivered daily by the best Parisian caterers, a personal trainer to regain my form and an increase of my allowances in proportion to what he makes from Polland. Are you willing to discuss it with Alex for me, Elijah?”
“It will be with pleasure, Magda. Your requirements seem to be reasonable and justified.”
“You are an angel, Eli!”