Puzzled

My hand betrays me and I spill some coffee onto the tray.

The brown substance spreads out and forms a stain, resembling a heart.

Monsieur Moreau takes the coffee pot from me, dries the stain out with his napkin, then hands me a cup of coffee and says: “Do you have any plans for the New Year’s Eve?”

“Nothing of definite nature…” I reply.

“I hope you don’t mean that you wish to spend it all by yourself?”

“No, of course not, I mutter, I’d like to spend it in a company that’s stimulating in all senses…”

“Of course.” he nods. “And such a stimulating company would be your girl friend I assume”.

“Well… I’d have been delighted…”

“Pardon me, Monsieur Luke, but why do you say, would have been? Has she got some other plans for the New Year’s Eve?”

“No, she hasn’t. The thing is she simply doesn’t exist…” I murmur.

A short silence falls between us.

I stare into my coffee cup. An antique clock ticks on the wall.

Monsieur Moreau gives me a light squeeze on the shoulder.

I feel a sudden pang of sadness.

Stay his hand a little longer on my shoulder I would have burst into crying before him: the only person who has ever taken an interest in my void of any private life existence.

“Well, that’s quite all right, mon ami.” He says. “You know, it’s merely a matter of time. Such a handsome man like yourself won’t be left without a girl for long.”

“You see…” I begin but fall silent, scared of my own daring.

“Yes?”

“Nothing, I’ll tell you later.” I reply and get up.

In the hall, Domino breaks into loud barking. Maman must have just returned from her visits.

Episode 20 – Bye For Now

Monte Carlo, 25 December 2010

I slip past maman and, taking the stairs two at a time, go up to my room.

“Chéri, the dinner is served at seven tonight, not eight” she cries after me.

“Yes, fine by me!” I shout back and close the door behind me.

Coming to the window, I swing it open and let the cool evening air in. At the horizon the sea and the sky have become one in a scarlet kiss. Struck by the beauty of the moment, I stand by the window, admiring the sunset.

The dusk falls, enveloping the room in soft darkness.

I slip my hand into the pocket. The fingers meet a pack of cigarettes and a box of matches.

I wasn’t quite honest with Monsieur Moreau, when I said I didn’t smoke. Well, technically I don’t, but I’m fascinated by the elegance he does it with.

So, I’ve decided to practice on cigarettes and then move to cigars. If I manage it, I could make an impression in a club. Though, I’m not sure whom I want to impress there, certainly not those annoying Von Witter daughters or others of the same ilk.

I just wish… Oh, well, never mind.

Taking the matches out, I light up a candle on my desk, then take my laptop and flop onto the bed.

As usual, my inbox’s full of spam.

I have to change the filter settings, I think as I check through new messages. Suddenly, amidst advertising and spamming emails I see her reply. My heart leaps with joy.

I bring the cursor over and freeze.

A breath of sea air comes in through the open window, touching lightly my forehead.

I draw in and click on the link.

Her letter opens up.

It’s short, just a few lines.

Dear Luke, thank you very much for your email… delighted to meet up with you… after I’ve returned from Nice… spending most of January… I’d like to wish you and your loved ones a very Happy New Year… Bye for now…

Chapter Three

Maybe, I don’t cry but it hurts

Maybe, I won’t say but I feel

Maybe, I don’t show but I care.

    – Vitor Mota

Episode 21 – A Charming Stranger

Nice, 27 December 2010

The window of my hotel room is wide open, letting a light sea breeze in.

I stand over my suitcase. Bewildered, I stare at its contents – a beaming example of hasty packing, piles of evening dresses and nothing decent for every day, just a pair of jeans and a sweater.

I utter a sigh, pull the jeans and the sweater on and go downstairs.