Elizabeth

By Zdravka Evtimova

"Perhaps Mrs. Aneva has already told you that you are very pretty?" Di did not wince; she broke that habit a long time ago, her face remained inscrutable and her dark eyes were calm as she nodded her head. "I knew she had told you that," the man's voice probed deeper, its indifference allowing a feeble rivulet of curiosity to stream into the last sentence. Di made no comment. The blond man's voice sounded apathetic again; it was evident he couldn't care less. Guys like him could be intrigued only if you shot a bullet through their brains. He looked like an ancient Viking: cold bluish-gray eyes that at times appeared colorless. There were no secrets for such eyes; they knew everything that was worth knowing. The meaning and contempt they conveyed were of the highest quality. Everything he touched was noble, clean and pure. Di's mouth was not noble at all. She had just swallowed a piece of the eel in special Burgundy gravy that the Viking had ordered after a long consideration for and against Burgundy. Di had eaten a roll before she came to her date with the Viking at the restaurant. She did not want to demonstrate her voracious appetite and attack the dishes he had ordered, succumbing to their delicious aroma.

The restaurant was an expensive place and a sense of harmony was reflected in the gilded edges of the tables. The flowers were not artificial, and a waiter stood at attention not far from their table following with utmost devotion every gesture of the couple; but the Viking dismissed him and he flew away, a friendly black-headed gull holding the tray to his heart like a shield.

"I was much intrigued," Mr. Spiro murmured slowly as if his words were loaded in wagons that he, the famous financial consultant in Bulgaria, had to push out of his throat single-handed. "Mrs. Aneva seldom approves of anybody; she has never liked any man or woman so far. You are the only exception."

"She is a refined lady," Di responded in the standard manner, concentrating on the dish. The eel in the plate watched her carefully with its broiled eyes.

"Oh, come off it," the man remarked. The fact he consulted to powerful commercial and industrial firms had taught him to separate the conversation into two branches, leaving his interlocutor on a desert island in between. Spiro was convinced that every single word he pronounced conveyed enormous meaning. Di had already met similar approaches; she got accustomed to everything very quickly and ignored the issues she could not get accustomed to. Her face remained a doused lamp one would not notice in the dark on a posh restaurant table. "Aneva said she intended to take you along with her to Germany for two months. She wants you to visit Hanover, Bonn, Frankfurt...." Then the Viking's non-committal voice provided detailed information about all these cities putting a particular emphasis on the powerful firms for which he had worked in a brilliant manner. "But...." An underwater reef unexpectedly cut the ocean of the geographical-statistical information. "Mr. Anev thinks you exert unsavory influence over his wife."

The Viking again resorted to two branches of conversation. Di was abandoned on the desert island between them, accompanied only by the broiled eel that could hardly assist her. "I am quite intrigued. How did you use your influence with Mrs. Aneva? I know she is enchanted with the massages you gave her. Did you do anything else apart from massaging her?"

"No," Di answered calmly.

"I don't believe you," the Viking answered, putting no passion in his voice. Di did not try to convince him, so his bluish-gray eyes waited patiently. "You know what, Di, this evening I will bring you to my villa in Draga valley. I have a mansion in Boyana as well but I usually bring Elizabeth there. You know who Elizabeth is, don't you?"

"I do," Di answered. Elizabeth was Mr. Spiro's fiancee; the lady consulted famous commercial and industrial firms as well.She was a big plump Austrian and the Viking always carried her photograph in his wallet. He had made a dozen copies of it and always had Elizabeth's smile at his disposal whenever he felt lonely or had to make an important decision. "Now we will go to my Draga villa," the consultant reiterated. He brought his Bulgarian girls here. "So what wine would you prefer for the evening, red or white?"

"Unfortunately I am busy this evening," Di answered.

"Busy?" the apathetic voice repeated more indifferently than ever. The Viking's voice was so sure of its great value that it had no desire to subside at the end of the sentence where the full stop should be. It simply moved on along its star orbit of grandeur and power where no bus stops for common mortals were built.

"I must go to Pirogov Hospital," Di said. "One of my friends is ill."

"Mrs. Aneva mentioned you did not have friends," Spiro remarked, directing his colorless eyes to her face. The effort exhausted him so he spoke directly. "I invested a lot of patience in this evening. Golden Club is not accessible to the general public. It is very expensive and to be honest with you...your dress is no good." Di was not scared; she had rented the dress for the evening, in fact she had paid to keep it till 11 AM the following day.

"I hoped we'd spend the night together," the Viking declared, his face revealing none of his hope. "In fact, as I have already hinted I invested a lot of time and money in this evening."

Di was not impressed by his remarks on the issue of money; they were as permanent and unflinching as the North Star and since she felt uninterested in his ideas about investments she paid as much attention to them as she did to the North Star.

"Actually I asked you to my Draga villa just because Mr. Anev mentioned you attracted his wife. He said there was an unnatural contact between the two of you. I'm in love with the adjective "unnatural". Personally, I am strongly in favor of all sorts of unnatural things. My relationship with Elizabeth is so banal that...What would Elizabeth say if she saw me bringing you to my Draga villa?"

"Do you know what? Your relationship with Elizabeth is surely important for you," Di said. "But it is hardly of any interest to me in spite of the investments you made this evening."

"I know who is in Pirogov Hospital." A categorical smile crowned the Viking's blond beard. "A man who was unfortunate to see us kissing. Then the wretch made a decision to commit suicide. That's his right after all."

"We were not kissing," Di interrupted him. "What would Elizabeth say is she saw us kiss? We stood pressed against each other. Everybody does that, don't they?"

"I have to attend to a small legal-financial operation in Paris. Elizabeth cannot accompany me to France, so why don't you come with me?"

"I'll think about. This evening, however, I'll go to Pirogov Hospital," Di said.

"OK," the star orbit and the voice sounded willing to agree. "We'll do it in the car. Then I'll give you a lift to Pirogov." Spiro beckoned to the waiter, who immediately flew over carrying the tray exquisitely, an employee whose white shirt gleamed like a lighthouse in the restaurant amidst the ocean of confidence and reliability. "What can you offer us for dessert?" After the waiter wrote down most diligently the gentleman's order and went away, Spiro added, "Di, if you come with me, you won't go to Germany with Mrs. Aneva. An unpleasant alternative but I am positive you'll make the right choice. What's your decision?"

"What would Elizabeth say if she could hear my answer?" Di murmured. In the beginning Spiro's voice reminded her of a big chunk of meat in a freezer but it suddenly sounded human: a voice of a man who wanted to sleep with her, Elizabeth and her smile watching him closely from the color photograph all the while. Yes, Spiro loved all untraditional approaches, cars and women, and for that reason he invested so much energy and time in talking to her.

"You have to buy an apartment to which you will take only me," Di said quietly. On principle, she never spoke loudly. Her words however made Spiro choke on his own tongue.

"An apartment for you?" his voice collapsed from the star orbit drowning in the expensive red wine. "For you!"

"Mrs. Aneva sends a taxi diver to take me to her massage sessions, " Di said. "If the driver is not smooth shaven I do not go with him."

"Are you trying to hint I'm not smooth shaven? Or that I am as cheap as Aneva's lousy taxi driver?"The Viking's well-trimmed beard smiled.

"We'll do it in the car," Di said calmly. She did not have to be too careful what she said to him. "Then you will give me a lift to the hospital."

"What will you do for the guy there?" The Viking was suddenly lost in thought. "He is a man that didn't act too cleverly. He was downright stupid if you ask me."

"I care about him," Di said.

"Do you care about me?"

Di looked at him. It was not necessary to lie to him. "You are a clever and ambitious person," Di said. That was the most neutral answer she could produce.

"I prefer young women like you," Spiro smiled. "Women capable of appreciating all good things a man does for them." Then he took her hand and most unexpectedly kissed it; his lips were slightly wet with the wine. It seemed to her that he had disinfected them with a small cotton-ball soaked in lavender spirits. "Sometimes I wish Elizabeth were like you, at least a little bit. One can be silent and comfortable with you." Then he carefully wiped his hand with the white silk napkin, and cautiously put the spoon in the saucer with the fruit salad. His hand vanished under the expensive brocade tablecloth and perched on Di's knee. It was an unnecessary activity if one considered the fact they that were going to do it in the car. "Am I embarrassing you?" he asked her.

"You don't need to do this," Di answered, unperturbed.

"The last time when Elizabeth came to Bulgaria I thought about you all the while I was with her," Spiro said unexpectedly, and Di thought he was drunk. This, of course, was impossible for he was very temperate even with respect to the number of times he kissed her. He was of the opinion that the more he kissed Di the greater the number of wrinkles around his mouth. His lips were always wet enough; he took the precaution of preventing them from getting dry. A pleasant aftertaste of a mouth-freshener remained in Di's mouth after the Viking kissed her and she was sure that he had included its price in his investments for the evening. His hand groped her knee very temperately; a move which could pass for a gentlemanly gesture, then his fingers slid up her thigh and there was nothing gentlemanly any more. Suddenly Spiro bent over her and whispered, "I wish Elizabeth's legs were like yours." It was rainy and very cold outside so Spiro hailed a taxi. They did not go to his Draga villa with which Di was vaguely familiar: a very strange building of abstract architecture surrounded by a big stone wall. Spiro ordered the taxi to stop in front of the first elegant hotel that came their way.

"You have a particular effect on me," he whispered hoarsely. His whisper also flowed along the star orbit. "You are driving me mad."

"It's the wine," Di said. "You drank a lot."

"I didn't," the orbit of the voice and the cosmos around it engulfed Di but she was not afraid of the cosmos. "I wish Elizabeth had the same effect on me. Listen… listen, why don't you come with me to Austria? You'll stay there a year, what do you think about that? I'll see Elizabeth and her father on Mondays, all the other weekdays I'll be with you. You'll have everything, absolutely everything…" the aromatic antiseptic mouth deodorant mixed with the trailing fragrance of the wine as he kissed her. "I understand what Aneva wants… You've driven her mad. She's a bitch. Give her the slip."

The rain beat the windowpane of the beautiful hotel room; the wind hurtled between the buildings as if trying to play an ancient pipe-organ put much out of tune by the spring. The wail of the cars in the main street floated in the air, which was yellow in neon lights. Spiro said he loved rain, the roar of the cars and the nasty June weather because he didn't have to go back to Austria to Elizabeth. He wondered why he felt like that. After a moment however he admitted he felt magnificent: all Elizabeth's photographs were arranged in a row on the hotel table facing Di.

"Let her learn," he remarked. Moreover, Spiro was convinced that he wasn't concealing anything from his fiancee and he could have her forgiveness very easily after that.

"I'll give you a lift to Pirogov Hospital," he told Di.

"Thank you."

"I'll give you a lift to Pirogov hospital and we'll do it again in the car," Spiro coughed and the other branch of the conversation took an unexpected turn. "Buy a new dress. Here, take this." His white well-groomed hand opened the wallet. Negligently, he took out a banknote. "Five hundred dollars. No, that won't be enough. You are so pretty, buy a nice dress.What would Elizabeth say if she saw me squandering the money for our future wedding ceremony?"

Di could imagine Elizabeth's reaction but she did not feel like thinking about Spiro and his Austrian fiancee. She thought about the man who had tried to die. She had to see him. She wanted to.

Bio: Bulgarian author Zdravka Evtimova has published three collections of short stories and three novels in her country. In 2003 Skrev Press, British UK, published Bitter Sky, a collection of short stories.

Her short stories have been published in the USA, UK, Canada, Germany [where she won the special prize Lege Artist Foundation short story competition], France, Poland, Czech Republic, Russia, India, Croatia, Serbia, Bosnia, Slovenia, and Macedonia.

Ms. Evtimova works as a literary translator from English and German into Bulgarian for the ministry of Culture in Bulgaria and has translatedinto Bulgarian more than 20 novels by American, English, Canadian and Australian authors.

At work on her PhD thesis on Toni Morrison's novels, Zdravka lives in Pernik, Bulgaria, with her husband, two sons and her daughter.