Friday, July 27th ….2001.

As said so many times over the years, difficult to keep picking up pieces of my existence , so much occurring by way of distraction.

Now nine months since Aura and I parted with such bitter hostility, have not seen her, which hardly means I have not thought about her. My only conclusion is that it was a tragedy .. a strong word … perhaps, but I hardly sit and think for so very long without coming up with a few well placed words.

Aura falls in the category of Jennifer, AndreeA ..someone who will not go away from the back of my brain, ever, someone I will always watch out for, but never see again. There have been one or two exceptions to this, but the odds are heavily against.

I resist going to those places we always went….the park “The” park where we strolled on the summer sunny afternoons, she looking quite incredibly attractive in her short skirt, showing her long legs, her brief tops showing all of her which discretion would allow.. ..The looks we received from those squatting on the benches in the shade, they looked and actually stopped talking while we passed, their eyes following us ..a unusual “couple ‘ to say the least.

No, such moments in eternity are stamped indelibly, they are but “moments” against the reality.. A very harsh one.
Her deception of Peter, done with the skill of a professional, has never ceased to amaze me,. a simple country girl originally ….
Invariably, without exception, they all have bitten the hand that fed them. No doubt, she applied the same effort to her double life as passing her solicitors exams… with deep determination.
Played her part all the way to Otopeni Airport, where, I am told, she waited patiently for the German to arrive just a few hours after my departure, such impeccable timing…

Not quite so blatant as Pa at Bangkok Airport when she picked up the Swiss man, actually in the airport while I was waiting for a baggage check, she did look a million dollars, with her hair platted Thai fashion, down below her waste, a white bolero top which concealed nothing, briefest of white shorts and high heeled shoes supporting her five foot nothing exceptional chassis. Midnight and the place had almost come to a standstill staring at her.. She waved and smiled at me Returned to Pattaya with him in the cab I had paid for.. told me this with some hilarity.

No deception on her part… No treachery… we played by the rules…

Aura played for Aura … I can never even start to forgive her for that.

Possibly, to other people, my life has at least been different, then, as I have reiterated to all the those who hang back from changing their lives, that which I have, what I appear to have, is something I have worked for.. worked for consistently, maybe unconsciously, working to this vague undefined end, to sit here in Bucuresti, this glorious sunny morning, in relative peace and dare I say it, with comparative few problems. Only in such backwaters of time am I able to sit, wait, fornicate…….. write.

Bucuresti Friday, January 28, 2000

Seven months have passed, hardly know where, trying to compress those seven months of thought and aggravation if you like. Certainly there has been aggravation ..there have also been some rather interesting moments at the other end of the spectrum.

August… decided we were rushed and needed someone to help. After a perhaps rapid succession of young ladies who only perceived the position as a place to unload their troubles, especially to myself when Cynthia was at work. Approached in Romana one wet and windy day by this rather wild looking young woman, obviously under pressure, desperate and quite nervous, then one would hardly expect to find someone sleek and composed looking for a housekeeping job.

Still remember the encounter .. mainly the way she clenched her hands and screwed up the furrows between her eyes .. her hair had nothing to thank the weather for. walked on ..hardly interested, so far as I was concerned, Sir Galahad slightly stiff in the limbs, his armor rusty and the horse out to graze after the battering with the AndreeA affair, Intended no more damsels in distress to be rescued …thank you very much.

Cynthia hung back chatting to her in the now pouring rain.. then she always had more patience in her little finger than I have in my whole body. She deciding the girl had some possibilities having made quite plain we were not interested in her obvious troubles…. if she were interested simply to work…….. ?


Late August, decided needed a break.. needed some sun, sea and anything else which goes with it. Asked Cynthia to telephone our not quite so tense “housekeeper “ ask if she would like to go to Costinesti for a few days, the girl quickly concurring. The look on her face realizing Cynthia was not coming with us as the train slowly left Gara De Nord, she out on the platform, waving and smiling until we curved out of sight..


Anyway.. back to reality, almost completely closed the door on England, that tiny island. Escaped from that humiliation …….. from being a foreigner in my own Country.

Today, in deep white snow, went to the Yugoslav embassy, offered a couple of copies of my comments on the Kosovo fiasco..

Monday 21st June 1999. Bucuresti

Hardly feel confident about anything at the moment.. felt confident this morning, then , as usual, with the daytime passing, time passing, my confidence slowly evaporated, more so when it occurred to me that Cynthia was playing Royal Academy of Dramatic Art. with me ..crying …once I start thinking along those lines, then it is goodnight nurse.

The question is whether to start the book.. how to start it, where to start it.. the whole thing a black wall in front of me.. not good.. At this moment unable to see anywhere too start, personally feel have changed so very much over these last months, especially this morning ..woke up ..thought.. thought I would make things happen, nothing much has recently…. Now tired, not feel like anything whatsoever.. No longer have that drive, that motivation as I had with AndreeA.. with “AndreeA’s Passion” She, no force at all within me now, hardly feel there is a woman on this Planet who can inveigle me to get up off my arse and do something ..anything….which is a different scenario from two years ago.. I breathed, lived existed only for AndreeA. Whatever she wanted ..I would get it, or do it. If she wanted me to put shelves up ..demanded I put up shelves, in her arrogant way, she, adorning, complimenting, my small beautiful apartment in London… then I would put shelves up.. She would watch, silent, staring pointedly, sitting on the floor knees up, arms round, long skirt pulled down, she would watch, head slightly to one side,.. while I worked, a gentle smile of sublime satisfaction crossing her face each time I used the drill.. ……….AndreeA.


Maybe this is it, maybe these are the words which will finally finish up in print ..maybe. As previously, will be writing backwards, nothing normal.. no beginning middle and end.. as Cyntia remarked about “Normality’ in her acid manner.. “ What is Normal ? ” then she always answers a question with a question ..or if the situation is tight, refuses to answer at all. No it is impossible, my thoughts not coherent.. even erratic.. then I have always been that… the common consensus. one minute up, the next down.. so be it.. quite capable of jumping from one situation to another ..no problem at all, able to do this as my brain never really forgets anything, certainly it sometimes needs time, eventually it clicks . Fortunately I write only for myself.. hardly need a audience, so remain free from any considerations, other than my own feelings.

May as well make the attempt.. not a bad afternoon, sitting here in Bucuresti, Cynthia gone to work.. thankfully.. Blinds down, doors shut, fan going. Faintly, madmen motorcars racing up and down the street below…echoes of Clapton Common… hardly appears to be anything to stop me from starting.., just my own disinclination .. have become very lazy during this Bucuresti period.

Andreea's Demise

Never said anything because there was nothing to say, could be said. At the back of my mind the idea Andreea had a better offer from her parents, i.e. no doubt on the lines if “she gave me up, totally, completely”, they would buy her her own flat which I thought would be quite a good exchange. Have been used throughout my life in different ways by different females, thought that in this particular case she had done rather well out of me, if she has manipulated the situation, through me she could intimidate her parents into buying her an apartment, she had done extremely well. All this, in my head on our way down to the lake. I had not spoken one word since she put the telephone down, a deep impenetrable silence between us. Knew this silence, known this silence before, before Andreea was born, almost before her mother was born.

So what was there!.. there was nothing, Andreea being so astute, so clever, so devious, so illusive, so aware of the situation, so in control of the situation, so she believed.

Walked along the lakeside, a glorious, Sunny afternoon, only a few hundred yards, pointless walking anywhere. Went to walk up the path to the road, looked back, she, standing, watching me, her body silhouetted against the water, eyes filled with tears.

“Andreea”, as my mother would say “it is no use prolonging the agony” ..

The last words I spoke to Andreea.


Strolled slowly, indecisively, to the gate, a taxi came along immediately, much to my surprise. Threw the door open, did not have to push her in, automatically giving the money of course, slammed the door, as with Jennifer, as with a few other female faces, did not look back, simply walked away.

*********************************


Other, younger men, would have treated this situation perhaps shouting quite loudly, with the realisation, it may have come to blows, violence. AndreeA and I had been on the very edge… but I had been through all this before, never losing control, simply remaining tight lipped

Cynthia said nothing at my return, asleep in fact. I, completely numb in the brain box, having almost slipped down into the hole, managing to hold on to the edge.

Hardly knew what to do, knew I could not stay in, simply sit, do nothing, knew I had to go out. Woke her up, had some tea, immediately, for some reason decided to go back to the Pizza Hut were it all started, where, to put down a cliché, to lapse into romanticism, “where it all started an Eternity ago”, although it was just 24 hours previously that we had met.
So what did I want?

Came off the bus, manipulated we walked past the Hut, round the Pizza Hut, walked to the top of the metro, sat on the wall.

Peter being Peter, being highly imaginative, thinking that Andreea could conceivably come out of the metro or meet somebody else at the Pizza Hut, such is the way my mind works, it works against me all the time. Someone, years ago, once remarked I was my own worst enemy. always fantasizing, always looking, always seeking, have done it forever, looked, waited, watched, for what ? Sitting on the wall, above the metro, Cynthia non committal, Cynthia ignoring the whole situation, apparently….. which as I wrote two years ago, the woman almost a paragon. No other woman in my life has ever stood by me.. taking every step of the way.

Not until we were in bed, brain still churning over and over, trying to avoid my previous conclusion. Andreea, of course would deny any aspect of my main thought.

Have no objection to her deviousness, to her demands, arrogance, what I do seriously object to is
being treated as a fool,
advantage taken of my generosity,
my kindness interpreted as stupidity,
my love taken for granted.

Andreea

Silence.

Time to be alone again, time to wait, time to consider the night just passed and the previous day, time to consider.


Went to town, went to see Lea, dragged her from her workshop. Made her sit, civilized in the arcade, at the coffee table. Time passed, bought myself a watch to watch the time passing… waiting for Andreea to ring. My thoughts too impatient, too congested, too congealed. Decided to go to Cynthia’s factory, work on her computer, to write my thoughts, to straighten my thoughts out, to see where I was.

Cynthia rushed off, to do the shopping, buy the food. Sat down, the intricacies of that particular computer, hardly believing my thoughts would flow out, into it - being so unused to such an instrument. Started writing, surprised, the words flowing in such surroundings, such strange surroundings, pleased with my own progress.

One o’clock came, already starting to shake. Two thirty, mobile rang. Oh yes, she had been out of bed midday, parents away, she could escape for an hour or so, to the manicurist, she would take a leisurely stroll towards Peter, would meet at three o’clock. Asked if she would come to the flat. Initially demurring, but I insisted. Three o’clock. Impatient. Cynthia ignored my impatience, ignored my, attitude, ignored my mood… knew my thoughts, aware in which direction my thoughts were..


She calmly prepared the steak, the food, the salad, the wine, as if, as if my mother was coming or my granny or my aunt was coming round to visit us, not my mistress. Then Cynthia has always been like that.

Too impatient to wait inside. Went out, in the distance could see this tiny figure, skirt swirling behind her, stepping very delicately along, arms at her side.

Walked towards each other. The whole length of the long street. Strangely, nobody else about, no people, no dogs, no cars. Perhaps they were there, perhaps I simply never saw them. All I had eyes for was her, stood in front of each other. All I could say was “Andreea you are incredibly beautiful!” Her reply “Thank you!”. Held hands, then we could have been alone on this planet, only when actually in the building did she let go .

Cynthia greeted her as if a daughter, “Would she like some wine?” She would like some juice. We did not have any orange juice. Andreea almost stamped her foot
“I want some orange juice! I want some juice!”

Suddenly her voice raised, assertive, arrogant.

We looked at each other, Cynthia and I, a shadow thrown by the young woman’s sharp attitude. Gave Andreea the money. “Are you going to come with me?” I said “Yes” Cynthia called out that we should buy some butter.

As so many times in my existence, always feeling there was so much to say… when it came to actually saying it, finding there was nothing to say.


Felt quite tired, the whole Andreea affair becoming extremely top heavy. On the way back she said “You know, I have to go home quite quickly, quite soon” I said “well, you have only been here for half an hour and lunch is ready”. We sat down to lunch. The upheaval she was apparently having at home had in no way affected her appetite.

Started off gently enough, after attempting to feed her with a glass of Gin and Orange…

“Perhaps you would like to explain your position, your now position to Cynthia, maybe she could throw fresh lights on the situation”. Andreea decided she did not like Gin and Orange, after sipping it, a sparrow, so I gave her an Anadin. Tears suddenly forming in her eyes again, obviously it was going to be a very long afternoon, a very difficult afternoon.

“My parents” she started, “have decided to keep me in the house, to not let me out, if I wish to go buy a cookie, I have to send my brother. I am not allowed to answer the telephone, to see my friends. I am to remove everything Peter gave me from the house, before the 1st of September. If I do not comply with these terms, they will send me to a convent”.

Cynthia looked at me, I looked at Cynthia, looked at Andreea. I said. “Well, supposing you ring them now and say you are not going to return home until eight o’clock, which is not unreasonable, as most young women are going OUT at eight o’clock.”

“No.” more tears. “I could not ring, I am frightened of them… if I go home late, then tomorrow it would be worse, the situation would be compounded. Suggested she did have rights.

“People cannot imprison you like this, legally they cannot destroy your property, take your letters and read them, taking letters is possibly a criminal offense. It is in England.. as your mother is in the Justice Department surely you have a lever on her, if you like, blackmail. If she does not stop interfering unreasonably in your life you could conceivably, quietly call the Police, the very last thing your mother, being respectable and naturally of high moral tone, would want, would be the thought of a scandal.”

Andreea looked at me, at this ploy, I looked at Cynthia.

Obviously, Andreea had other ideas. An alternative to this would be to stay here, with us now, not to go back.

“That would be no good whatsoever” very firmly, very quickly “You are going home on Tuesday, were would that leave me?”

Asked her to drink more of the Gin, she sipped, a gesture only.

“Andreea, you will have to drink more than that, you are in too much of a state, have some more mother’s ruin”.

Quite plainly, Andreea had her own ideas, ideas she was not apparently prepared to reveal to me. She knew something we did not. Her cards very close to the chest. More to this whole situation that she was to tell.

Were the parents so adamant ? Obviously they were against me.. what parents would not be. Everybody sees their point. They, having problems with their daughter, a daughter that run off to England with a strange man half a century older than herself, so far as they were concerned, their daughter had disappeared off the face of the Earth for two months. For those two months, for those fifty three days, the girl had an experience with which there will be no comparison for the rest of her life. So what were the parents really complaining about?

It was about their respectability, it was this they were concerned with, not even so much the daughter. This façade they have created had been badly damaged.

Again I asked myself, what was the real story… the truth.. what was that?! Any other girl you would expect under such extreme pressure, would have jumped at the opportunity to escape. If she felt as she said she felt about me, what was her problem? If she was in such a terrible turmoil in her own home, if she was threatened as she said she was threatened, cajoled, abused, treated as a prisoner… the situation starting to slightly smell in my nostrils.. this started to sound like a very elaborate story coming from a sobbing Thai young lady, and I knew all their stories. Invariably the sobbing was stopped by placing the right amount of money in their tiny, so delicate, soft hands.

Certain there was a piece missing, a big piece missing. I could not think what that piece might be.

Took a breath, again started quietly.

“What your parents require is that you go out and find a man, any man other than myself, Romanian, one who preferably has a Mercedes, a house, all the accouterments, five, six, seven hundred dollars a week, one who could look after you in the manner you are accustomed to be looked after, one who will treat you as you wish to be treated, to cater for you every whim, every desire, your every fancy, your every need. Of course, you have the qualifications, the attributes, you are highly intelligent, beautiful, nothing at all wrong with you, you are, in my eyes, an almost perfect woman, other to the fact that you and your parents have placed a very high price upon your being”.

Whether or not I said those last few words I do not know, but if I did not say them she knew what I was getting at. Put the mobile phone in her hand. She threw it down. I said “You are going to have to ring them. If you do not ring them now, you are going to be a prisoner for the rest of your life”… starting to push it.. “You have to escape now! .. this moment! this Saturday afternoon, at five o’clock, you have to ring your parents now.”

Suddenly she rushed out into the other room. I said to Cynthia “You better go and see if you could sort her out”. Cynthia came back after about ten minutes “I cannot do a thing with her, you better go”.. went in. Andreea lying on the floor, knees up, head down, sobbing. Found her handbag, her shoes, put them beside her.

“Andreea, I cannot do any more, anything more for you.. have tried, do not wish to be Sir Galahad again. I have been Sir Galahad too many times, too many damsels in distress. There is more than you are willing to tell me and I am tired”.

She picked up the phone, a decision, rang the house, her brother answered. Her parents would be home within the hour, she crying openly now. Tearfully. She said “We have one hour. I would like to walk by the lake.

The Soprano

Door bell suddenly ringing, ringing, after about fifteen minutes, did not take much vibration, did not take much to realize it was Raluca, could feel her intensity, her impatience through the walls, through the flat. Door burst open, she burst in, singing at the top of her voice. Evidently, so they say, she is going to be one of the World’s best, so they say and she was not going to let anybody to forget it, not at this present moment.
She had grown, quite, shall we say, large, since I had last seen her. If she was going to be a Soprano, well then, her figure matched. Almost impossible to suppress her. Refused to stop singing, not singing quietly, singing as if she were in the Albert Hall, her voice would easy fill the Albert Hall, easily, without any effort on her part. Unsuppressed, unsuppressable, unstoppable.. Andreea’s soft voice, her soft tears, the tears, the soft tears in her brown eyes, swept away. Everything is swept away in front of Raluca.

Suddenly she required feeding.. told her she needed a bath, soaked in sweat. Refused the bath, becoming almost a hypochondriac, demanded Anadin tablets, demanded to be kept out of the draft, demanded full stop. Petrified of catching a cold before her examination, the final examination.

No room to think other than of Raluca. We trooped into SpringTime where she ordered quite large quantities of food which she devoured very quickly, quickly indeed.

In the flat she and Cynthia retired to the bath. Watched television, waited. Both appeared back, laughing, naked, falling about, falling into bed. Television switched off. Raluca needed to be brought on quickly, to have her period before the exam. Peter did his best to satisfy this requirement.

Evidently, singers believe if they perform during their period, they sing flat. Raluca did not wish to sing flat. She, never very demonstrative in bed, not during the act - apparently quite satisfied with my efforts, fell asleep.

Awakened at dawn, in the dawn light both Cynthia and Raluca making more demands. thought, “No one is going to believe this.”
Suddenly Raluca energized again. Time to go, time to throw the clothes on, time to go into her orbit once more. A mad rush, telephone the taxi, taxi whisking her quickly away.

August. 21st; 1997. Bucuresti

Andreea’s Passion .

Not too sure about Andreea and the meeting … what would happen after time had elapsed, letters unanswered, hardly expected her, had believed she was in Greece with her parents. Waited.. as instructed by her on the phone.. to meet outside the Pizza Hut, waited opposite, almost obscured by the distraught traffic. Few minutes before one p.m. started to shake, wondering what had been her reaction to my perhaps scathing letters, why after those missiles, she had decided to meet me.
She came, strolling along finally, a slight arrogance, white high heeled shoes I had bought her in England, long skirt to her ankles, sleeveless blouse, dark glasses, hair to her waist.
Never directly approached, walked parallel, waiting for her to look other than directly in front.. all this oblivious to the traffic which, by now, seriously attempting to run me over.

No animosity on her face when our eyes finally met, more a question mark, more of “why had I not written?… why had I ignored her?”

We sat, the waitress, rather too friendly for the occasion, for the problems I believed I was about to be confronted with, unable to quite understand why Andreea was so calm so affable, so Andreea.

Hardly knew how to start the conversation… the conversation two people have … the conversation only for two people, the conversation, meaningless to any other person on the Planet.
“Why haven’t you written to me” She started, … half indignant.
The waitress interrupted precisely at this point, giving time to consider her remark.. what had happened to the letters she had not received, totally relieved at this twist of fate.

Suggested, as had done previously, that her mother was the recipient of my mail … then the idea had been blown away indignantly, “Our family is not like that” .. evidently it was.. I am hardly ever wrong. How her private case had been broken into, how all the perhaps erotic photographs of her had been torn, how she had found, pieces of my distinctive envelopes.

The last two days the mother had revealed everything to the father, how the father had howled at her, both parents jointly demanding she gave up the “old man’ immediately, to destroy everything he had given her. How she would no longer be allowed out of the house other than to go to the university. How, if she did not submit to their demands she would be sent to a nunnery.

Drank my coke, at this final remark, amazed, a sense of unreality .. was this really 1997 ? or perhaps a time warp .. really back in the Middle Ages.. she, nevertheless eating her pizza with delicacy, not having lost her appetite, disregarding the total chaos of her now existence.

Cautiously, again asked “so you did not receive my letter and the page from my diary .. plus the very large photograph with slightly uncompromising captions.

“No” no, she had not received anything .. had received only the photos from my June trip.. she and Cynthia bathing in the lake,..wife and mistress drifting off across the wide water in the evening sunlight… knew they would make for the distant opposite shore, both so relaxed, voices concise, clear.. knew they would take the opportunity to weigh their respective positions.

Watched, as they sat languidly on the far shore in the soft light, nothing across there to disturb them, their words.. their gently confrontation.

Wished I could have heard one syllable .. could only watch.

Waited for what seemed an interminable time .. darkness starting to creep across the clear water, waited for them to start the long swim back .. they arrived quite calm, not at all breathless, still talking quietly to each other.. had hardly expected any different.. they, rather much in common.. the fact, one could have been the other’s mother……..

Pleased at this turn up.. that Andreea had been spared all my confusion.. my disbelief at all of her, what I considered, small stories, as to why she had to rush home in the early evening.. to the extent of actually following her in another taxi, feeling on that occasion she was off on an assignation… subdued when she went straight into her flat and never came out ..not for the two hours I stood there anyway!

Tried not to think of Andreea’s mothers reaction to my so personal pages to her daughter.. without doubt, even cooled through a translator, the pages would have burnt into her brain once / if realising the depths Andreea and I reached.

Stood up, looked for the waitress, paid her, paid her over the top, grateful for the interruptions..

AndreeA cautious about where to go next, did not want to go to the flat, wanted to go to the lake she decided.

Getting into the taxi there were three young, thick, Romanian hooligans glaring and gloating, looking at her. Not quite able to understand what she was doing with me… the question mark poised in their stupidity.

Went down the familiar park, to the lake, Deliberately, she walked on the edge, away from the long grass where I might put her to the ground, my body over hers, this quite obviously she did not want, quite obviously she preferred to keep me at distance for her own reasons.

Waited, waited all my life, so I could wait a little longer, waited to see what she would do, what she would say, what would happen next. We sat, looked about waiting for people to congregate about me, as people always do. She, long skirt pulled down, knees up, arms around.

Became impatient, time passed, she had to rush home, half past four in a Friday afternoon she “had to go home”, so she said, so I was supposed to believe, a prisoner in her own home.

Looked for a taxi, no taxi appeared… walked almost to Dorobanti Market before we found one. Gave her the money, door banged, she driven away. Would ring, she would ring at two o’clock. on Saturday. Taking into account that she never left the bed until midday at the least…

Just a slight sense of emptiness when she was gone, then there always is, Used to my own company, used to my own isolation,… nothing, just the usual hole, had tried to explain to her about the hole, the really big hole I have to negotiate my life about, careful not to fall in.. first discovered this with Susan.

Went for a manicure and a pedicure. Having a manicure interested Andreea, a man caring about his nails!…
Said to the woman, she, massaging my foot - ‘better than sex” She laughed.

From there, drifted down to the factory, Cynthia doesn’t finish work until eight o’clock at night. As always, as ever, energetic, smiling, knew where I had been, disregarding it completely. She rushed about. Decided to go back to my bed, the bed I had in London, which I had to store for a year because it wouldn’t fit in my new flat, the bed, the green bed without the twirling tentacles of my plan…