Story: Dancing With My Soul. Chapter 2.

by Andy Engines

The old woman smiled as she spoke, intently looking at me as if she could will me to understanding. It had been two weeks now and I still didn’t understand a word but as she started pantomiming sweeping the floor understanding dawned. I smiled back at her and put my book down and took up a brush and started to help sweep the floor. As we worked she constantly talked and I had no idea if she was talking to herself or to me but I found her company soothing. Right now I needed company and I couldn’t face being alone once more in the mess that had unfolded around me. As we worked she continued to smile and every now and then looked over at me and nodded her head whilst making a clucking sound that I hoped was approval.

Just as the void created in my soul at the death of my parents was starting to heal a new one had opened up. The last two weeks had been a terrifying ordeal and it still hadn’t fully sunk in, it felt as if I was stuck in a dream, or rather stuck in a nightmare. The moment when I was sat in the bath and Marija entered was etched vividly into my memory.

“Oh my God, you don’t think?”

“No I don’t Mistress, but let me go and see if I can find out anything new. It wont hurt to find out what is happening.”

I looked at her and felt the bottom falling out of my world, this was the last thing I needed right now. She looked up at me and a look of resolution crossed her face.

“Don’t worry Mistress, it will be ok.”

I was in the sitting room when she quietly returned and as she looked at me she smiled briefly.

“Marije, tell me what have you heard.”

“Not too much Mistress but everyone is talking about Andreas and how he always swam in the small marina. They say that he was warned many times against swimming near the routes where the boats passed. There is great sadness but everyone appears to think it was an accident waiting to happen.”

“Oh my God. Then it may not have been our fault?”

She looked away and I saw her purse her lip before looking back and speaking once more.

“I can’t say anything but all I know is a young man is dead.”

The words hit me like a slap on the face as I realised I was more worried about my circumstances than those of the poor mans family. There was nothing I could say and I felt totally deflated.

“Mistress, I am sorry I didn’t mean to be rude, I merely meant to say that his death is a certainty. It is possible you didn’t play a part in it and above all I wish to protect you. We cannot change what has happened but I do fear for you a little.”

Her words lifted my head “Fear for me?” I was staring at her watching as she fumbled for words.

“Yes fear for you. This is not America and justice can be harsh and often misdirected. Many times innocent people have fallen foul to the Police just so they can close a file and say their job is well done. Justice here can be… how do you say … unjust.” She paused as if trying to make a decision and then blurted out “In the morning allow me to visit the police and try to understand what is happening.“

“You can not do that Marije, if any one goes I should go as I was driving the boat.”

“But Mistress you don’t speak Croatian and even if I were with you they wouldn’t allow me to sit with you if they wish to question you. Those pigs would insist on a translator and until he arrives you would be held and that could be days not hours. I know how this country works believe me. But maybe there is a way.”

I looked at her expectantly. “Which is?”

“I could pretend to be you.”

“What.”

“I could say I am you. Purely to make enquiries and find out what is happening, surely there is no harm in that.”

“But Marije we look nothing alike, how could you pass for me, it wouldn’t work even if I agree to it.”

“But Mistress no one knows us here, only a few people have seen you and the few days we have been here we have been on remote beaches. At best people will have a vague idea of what you look like. It can work.”

“Marije, for starters your hair is black and mine is blonde, even an idiot who has seen me from a distance would see that.”

“Hair can be changed Mistress.”

In the morning light I stood looking at Marije with her new hair. It had taken an age but somehow we had managed to dye her hair to a lighter colour and although it wasn’t quite as light as mine it was close enough. As I stood looking at her I kept reminding myself that what we were doing wasn’t wrong. We were only trying to find out what was happening and nothing more.  

“Marije, change your clothes, you look wrong.”

“Sorry Mistress.”

“Your clothes, they don’t look right, change into some of my clothes. If we are going to do this then we do it right. You have to dress the part.”

Now that we were committed to this course of action I wanted every little last detail to be correct. Nothing could go wrong. People may not know me but they know the image and image was everything if we were to fool the Police. I caught myself as the thought crossed my mind, we were trying to fool the police. This was real.

Once Marije was dressed I had her stand in front of the mirror and stand straighter. Thoughts of school came back and being made to walk and stand with books on my head, hours spent getting used to the most uncomfortable positions that were considered proper and correct for a young lady.

“Ok, say my name Marije, say ‘I am Miss Valentina Van Den Berg’.”

“Mistress?”

“Marije, if you are going to do this my name has to flow off your tongue, I need you to say it and forget Mistress ok. In this I am not taking no for an answer.”

I watched her speaking and winced inwardly at her attempts and not only that but she slouched all the time. On impulse I removed my wristwatch, necklace, bracelet and rings.

“Here. Put these on and try at least try to feel like me.” I paused as I helped her put my jewellery on and then directed her to the mirror again.

“Now say your name and look deep into your own eyes and believe it Valentina.”

She looked into my eyes reflected from the mirror and then back into her own. Slowly I saw her back straighten, her head lifted imperceptibly. Her eyes moved with her head and remained fixed on her reflection. I could see her chest rise and fall and then it filled out as she breathed deeply in. She grew as she straightened.

“I am Valentina Van Den Berg.” She paused for a fraction of a second and then smiled as if in greeting.

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