Story: Dancing With My Soul. Chapter 12.

Here's the next chapter of Andy's international saga at last. Apologies from the author for taking so long between chapters. As usual, real life keeps intervening.
 

by Andy Engines

“Oh my God, he is so cute.”  Laughing I looked across at the boy on the jet-ski that Jackie was ogling. The sun was shining down on us and Jost Van Dyke was my favourite place on earth. Well favourite until the next island. 

At first I thought being cramped on a small boat in the Caribbean sounded so dull. Tiny cabins, no freedom and boring routine and yet on arriving for our girls trip we were happily surprised by the sumptuousness of our ‘tiny’ boat. As boats go it was largish I suppose and the helicopter sitting high above us on the top platform did look impressive but it was still tiny compared to the suites I was used to. Looking over I could see Caitlyn eyeing up one of the sailors who often appeared as if by magic and provided for our every whim. 

Girls walked perfectly upright carrying trays as if they were born to it delivering a steady flow of drinks, snacks and meals created by the Michelin star chef hidden far below in a kitchen somewhere.in the bowels of the boat. Yesterday had been St Martens and now we were In the BVI’s to tour and enjoy in our little palace. Rebecca started to guffaw and looking over I could see Caitlyn had snared her man. A bronzed Adonis in a rather fetching white uniform was gently massaging sun lotion into her back.

I jerked awake. Something was wrong. The cabin was dark and the noises were wrong. Grey spilled in from my window and shadows barely formed from the weak moonlight. Confused I reached out. Objects were wrong, everything was wrong and panic surged inside me. Slowly the fugue in my mind started to lift as reality settled in and dreams were thrust out. It was so real, It had been as if I were still on the trip with the girls. 

Melancholy descended as I realised where I was and what exactly my reality was. The cruellest of dreams had visited and left. Dressing slower than normal and walking without enthusiasm I entered the big old kitchen. Each sound and smell stabbed out at me, sneering, laughing, taunting.

Reminding me.

“Now who got out of bed the wrong side?” The cook smiled warmly as she handed me a fresh coffee but it refused to lift me. At that moment nothing could lift my beaten soul.

“What’s the matter girl.” She looked concerned. Of everyone the big old cook assumed the role of mother to us all and normally her concern would give me hope. “Come on speak up.” But I couldn’t, it was my secret, my history, my torn and tattered past that could never resurface. As I sipped the warm brew my mind was in another world and it truly felt as if it was all gone. Every last shred of me was gone. All that survived was Marije Zuzic.

The day passed slowly, the clocks in all the rooms ticking slower, the chimes further and further apart. To make matters worse the fire places needed their big flagstones blackening and polished to the highest gloss. It was a chore I normally enjoyed as the mat black stone slowly started to gleam until I could see my reflection in it but today my heart was not in it.  Today it was as if the big old ugly stones hated me and as I knelt polishing the cold hard stone floor of the room bit into my knees. The harder I rubbed the less the flagstones gleamed as if they too were in on my misery.

“Marije.”

I jerked around at the sound of Mrs Delachs voice.

“Marije you have been polishing far too long. What is a matter girl.” For the second time today I had now been asked that question and for the second time I smarted as if struck.

“Girl, come here.”

Without thought of argument I pulled myself upright and walked over to Mrs Delach exactly as I had been shown all those months ago.

“I am sorry, it just that-“

“Shhh… Quiet girl.” She looked at me and I could see a feint smile on her lips. The smile wasn’t laughing at me, it was the smile a mother would giver her struggling child. It was a loving smile in some ways and for a moment I felt a warmth for her that I had never experienced before.

“Now, not a word and listen. Everyone can see you are struggling today and Diana said she heard you crying early this morning in your room.” I went to defend myself and as I opened my mouth she quietened me with a wave of her hand. “Diana was worried about you Marije. People do care. Especially me. Believe it or not but once I was a young girl pulled from my home to work in a house very similar to this. I understand. I truly do.”

She looked at me and as if by unspoken command I found myself crumpling into her as her arms wrapped around me and held me tight. Sobs started to rise from my chest as if from the very center of my being. I didn’t hear her words but will always remember the feel of security and comfort she gave me in that moment of need.

As we separated I caught movement as she wiped an eye and then looking at me she smiled again.

“Marije, you should take tomorrow off, you have worked long and hard. It is time you went to see Antonela. I am sure she has missed you.” I realised it had been nearly a month since I had seen the old woman and yet in that time I hadn’t had a day off work. The season was fast approaching and days off were quite the luxury. Now she was in my mind I realised how much I missed her.

I looked across at Mrs Delach as she pulled herself back to her normal imposing self. She smiled and then it was gone as the Mrs Delach I knew was back in control. All of a sudden the world was good again. It is crazy but it happened just like that as if at a flick of a switch.

I woke early on Sunday morning with an excitement that surprised me. The dark of night still cast its shadow across my room as I jumped from my bed and pulled my old clothes out from the cupboard. It had only been a month but it seemed like an eternity since I had last worn them. The time had been a blur of activity and emotion as my new station took over my life and invaded every fibre of me. It was now so natural to do exactly what I was told and whenever the shadow of the lady of the house passed without thought I looked down and curtsied. Like a method actor I had donned the clothes and immersed myself in the role but for me the role had become my reality. My only reality. The dream and is miseries had floated away in the night to be replaced with something new.

Walking through the dark morning along the well remembered trail brought back memories that carried joy and happiness. I was going home. Pictures of the small room and the water gently coming to the boil infused my mind and I longed for the coffee shared in the small room with the old woman. As I walked my mind started to wonder and old memories drifted back, random thoughts that had long been pushed to the far recesses of my mind.

As the cottage loomed out of the grey a surge of happiness pushed me yet higher and almost with a skip I made it to the front door. Without thought but only a feeling of happiness I pushed the door open. As it opened familiar smells invaded my senses. Amongst them was one that I knew so well and yet its presence was indeed a surprise.

The distinct aroma of Cherry.

Mr Branco’s phone rang urgently in the small apartment overlooking the square. It rang as it always rang but as it shattered the silence the urgency was there, yapping like an impatient dog. Mr Gaspar answered and after one brief ‘yes I am’, he listened for the longest time.

James and I were watching him and as he hung up he seemed agitated, scared even. His face was white and I could see his hand tremble slightly. He just looked at us and with only a ‘I will be back soon’ he was gone. We waited for what seemed an age and then I saw him walking across the square back towards the apartment. Gone was his upright stride replaced with a slow walk and a stoop.

“Valentina, please sit.”

“What has happened. Tell me.”

“Please sit.”

As I sat I started to tremble but the news to come was nothing that my wildest nightmares could ever have conjured up.

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