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.
Se afișează postările cu eticheta Jennifer. Afișați toate postările
Se afișează postările cu eticheta Jennifer. Afișați toate postările
Nun for you and nun for me
Had rather a interesting confrontation with that young woman a couple of days ago.. A particularly hot evening, about 4.p.m. Glorious…
Never been to Aura's home, abode.. where she stayed, where she supervised these other young ladies, the house belonging to some Germans, they quite pleased to have Aura run it for them .
Often, over the long period of time I have know Aura, had heard stories, yet always kept discreetly away from the premises, hardly worried me. Have been kept away from, shall we perhaps say, better places, a mere detail in the arrangement she and I had.
This particular afternoon started thinking, little else too do, Cyntia having triggered the idea of popping round previously, she being rather cute at indirectly wynding people up. Made me think, maybe I should drop by, see what does transpire, what does go on, if anything.
Peter put his shorts on, his "Pattaya" singlet, his gold braided "Tottenham" supporters hat, bare feet other than for sandals .. black glasses..
Dresses for the beach, apparently. Quite brown now ..all over.. dressed in almost nothing. Looked good, felt up to the occasion, which I knew it was going to be.
Called the cab, showed him the bit of paper, useless trying to pronounce these streets.
Personally, like Bucharest cabs ..taking your life in your hands every second of the way, the overriding factors being it is extremely cheap and I am not driving…A change for me to sit in the back seat, which I always do.
So, sat in the back seat, put my feet up, made myself quite comfortable, hung tightly on to the handrail above the door, lucky this time there was one.. usually they are broken off, the doors actually closed fully.. Not the faintest echo of the Public carriage office and the Hackney carriage rules and regulations.. quite refreshing
The Taxi inspectors at Penton street would have a group heart attack if they saw this lot of rotting metal hurtling about the boulevards.
Set out on our journey through the pot holes, through the trams, the buses, veering through the cars the hooting and the honking.. the mad rush to oblivion. The driver successfully fought his way through, as they all do, James Bond fashion, regardless of my asking him to take it easy, I, in no particular hurry. My few words of Romanian.. totally ignored .. Foot down, hand on the horn. This piece of protracted excitement, travelling across town, cost me just over a pound sterling, gave him a couple of bob on top, he, most grateful .
Arrived, the driver did the business at the door ringing, evidently the wrong bell, as there was no answer. Thought, well I will hang about, nothing else too do.. he left leaving me posing on the doorstep in my very brief attire. Waited about half an hour.
Aura had mentioned having a Nun stay with her, I always fancied a drop of nun.. "Nun for you and nun for me"… how the story goes.. Wondered what manner of Nun she was.. complete with a mobile phone and a penchant for Jack Daniel's whisky, must be interesting..
Lo and Behold.. along comes a nun in full rig, she not knowing me from bar of soap, I standing in front of the street door, she opened it, followed her in, gave me a funny look, followed her to the lift, gave me another funny look, muttered something, muttered a few words back, pointing upwards towards God, which no doubt consoled her.. Stepped out the same landing as herself, now she quite worried this naked man, in her terms, perhaps pursuing her, maybe believing her luck had changed, who knows what a nun thinks?? When I stood by the same door as she, she became very worried, anyway the door was opened. .there was someone there, as said, the cab driver had rung the wrong bell. Consternation ! Aura not there. .her friend whom I assumed was the girl friend of the Swiss man I heard so very much about, who had received so much money, she gave me a strange look, the nun gave me a strange look…
Asked for Aura, said she was not there, said I would wait and gave every indication of doing so indefinitely.
With that they invited me in into a strange room, in a time warp, furniture at least fifty years old.. clearly nothing had been touched.. neat and tidy.. Large terrace which I went and sat on.. A drink materialized.. the usual 90 % proof stuff.. firewater nothing less. .quite usual in Romania.
Had a few sips, knowing full well they would tip Aura off on the mobile phone I had given her. Peter was there ..never fear.. They disappeared, I sat, looking at the landscape.
Eventually recovering their composure, Aura no doubt informing them I would not bite.. invited me in, another drink.
Now quite comfortable.. few drinks, chatting the birds.. Peter's forte..
Asked the girl, in all innocence, about her "Swiss" man. She came back "What Swiss man !?" Here we go.. Peter thought ..strange.. "You are Auras' friend.. the one she has Known since childhood??" Yes, she was, however, her boy friend, she insisted, was a "Turk" Rather the other end of the spectrum.." Oh…!"
Never said anything more. The nun disappeared. She had been hit by a car, quite seriously damaging her eye.. so very dangerous cars in Bucharest.. no compensation, peanuts.. about all..
Sat there, almost naked as far as these ladies were so obviously concerned . Did have my heavy silver bracelet with the names of all my known children, which offset the inclination of looking at me as if I were some hooligan.
Aura made her breathless, dramatic appearance just as I was getting into the swing of things .
To say she was giving me black looks in no way described her demeanor. If she had a knife she would , I say without hesitation, have stabbed me that instant, that split second in time, when our eyes met.
She removed, somewhat brusquely, my dark glasses in order to get a much better look at me, maybe believing looks could kill. Peter refusing to be ruffled by this display on her part and put the glasses, quite deliberately back on his face.
Apparent the last person she wanted to see in that apartment was Peter. I had already jumped to that obvious conclusion .. enjoying the situation immensely..
From the "Off" known, for whatever reason, Peter had to be kept under wraps , however , here he was, bold, bold as a bowler hat on a Bradford millionaire, sitting quite comfortably, pumping her friend… Still of the opinion Aura's previous.. a Greek.. was still lurking around in his BMW.
Well, we shall see now..
kids stuff….. we know.
Enjoyed it, which is the criterion in my life now… whether or not anything amuses me and it does take rather a lot to do so.
Quite casually, started the ball rolling with …..
"Where is the young lady ..your friend whom you have told me so very much about.. the one who has the "Swiss Man " the man who gives her $12.000 as if it were mere bagatelle!!!
"I do not have any other men" this reply through the tears.. "So why are you crying your eyes out.."
Now really starting to shout and I can do so extremely loudly, loud enough for people to come out on their verandahs, no discretion here, no twitching net curtains "Crying because I lied to you"
"Well, you would not be the first woman to do that or quite conceivably, the last"
Most women lie to Peter, quite a common characteristic for females to lie, even the most devoutly religious ones ..as found to my cost. It is part of the female .
"So why did you concoct such a elaborate story which continued for months??
" I don't know" she said lamely
As Raluca, she went very strange just before sticking the knife in and stole a apartment from me.
On the face of it I had obviously driven Aura mad as have done with the other female faces. All the women ever encountered have cracked in one way or the other.. so it must be Peter. Know I am no good. No! will not go to heaven.
When it comes to women, they simply cannot handle it, must be something about me.. not playing by the rules..
By now, quite a audience, said to Fanny "if you do not tell me now, this instant what is going on and stop sniveling, I will shout louder.." We had taken the situation out to the edge of the terrace. Glorious evening, people becoming quite engrossed in this clearly mad foreigner.. this ancient old man shouting at the young woman.
As my mother, the more she was told to "Shut Up" the louder she shouted, she never gave a toss for anyone. Only the Blacks eventually intimidated and humiliated her, broke her, as so many other old ladies.
Why should I shut up?? have looked after the girl as if she were wife, mistress, princess, daughter, …..granddaughter, which she could be.. simply not the slightest grounds for fucking me about ..story of Peter.
Had every right to know what is going on in the young woman's life, away from myself, when she did not show, feel I am not unreasonable .
By now the girl like a piece of wet rag, all her arrogance, independence, determination if you like, ebbed away as quickly as the tide on Maldon Flats.
Said to her 'Going to stay here until the Greek shows up, like a good fight.. not had one for ages'
"I have no Greek.. he is in England "she insisted.. "How do I know that?? you are capable of telling me anything which comes into your head ..which you think may fit your plan. Yes, I do know what you told me about the Greek, you also told me your girlfriend had a Swiss boyfriend…giving her $12000 a time.…"
Had to rub it in, anyway the little drama had dragged on for about two hours, I getting tired and bored, had my evenings entertainment.
Tried to wynd the situation down.
"Hardly know what to say in these cases, never know what there is too say, what can be said?.. No answer on this Planet, do not ask me for one. As most females, you, consciously or otherwise, revel in being a enigma, a mystery.. What are you all about!? ..why tell me such intricate stories..? hardly run away with the idea you are different from any other woman, because you are not"
Started to consider my situation.. how many 71 year old men have 23 year old birds?? With that thought decided to ease off further, poor bitch..
Why concern myself why? Why she came out with such a fanny of a story, so much conviction attached to it.
Thought of one or two other stories I had been told by other female faces, told with so much earnestness, so much conviction.
I shut up.
No longer interested, very tired.. needed a drink, needed to go back to the comparative sanity of Cynthia, someone who so far has not gone quite off her rocker, has come pretty close to it on occasions. She possess this fierce determination to hold on to Peter and evidently her sanity at all costs, do not know why, disregarding his wanderings, his misplaced attitudes, his lack of respect for society and the people in it, herself on occasions. All this she totally ignores, acts at times, as if Aura is part of the family, other times, she is slightly more the other way. Whatever, the situation, so far as she is concerned… Nothing too much trouble.. twenty four hours a day.. every day. Naturally, now wanting to return to Cynthia on my weary horse, weary of charging at windmills, needing the comfort of a "Home" .
By now the situation had subsided, Aura going down in the lift with me, I also thinking more practically… of her beautiful naked body in bed and the way she can use it….
She told the cab driver the directions, plenty on my mind without attempting the Romanian language.
Saw I had recovered, now more pliable, looking at her breasts, falling the way all women wish all men to fall ..hostage to their charms, their mystery, aware I had not taken too much real interest in her little lies, saw also, her own position had completely changed, the "Cat out of the bag".. having to admit the truth to her friends.
God knows what fanny, what fairy stories she had told them about the "Englishman". Probably I was "Prince Charming", twenty four years old, had three camels and two Mercedes, for all I know..
All out in the open now .. she working her way through University………Okay..
My parting shot.
"Better have a shower, straighten your face out, change your knickers, come round about nine………"
Drifted away.
An evenings' entertainment.. something..
Had little intention of mentioning to Cyn, would only be ammunition for her to throw at me, not directly.. simply sniping at the opportune moment, as indeed every woman, a inherent capability.. biding their time.. then shooting straight when one is unprepared.
Naturally she is not entirely happy with the situation, although it suits her sometimes.. My, shall we say "girlfriend" living with us occasionally. Then we all have our problems. I making it quiet clear when she married me, would still play my small games, this she readily concurred to.
If she tries to become respectable now, slippers by the fire. nodding my evenings away in the armchair.. loses her fetish for the whip, the chains and the handcuffs. Watching me watching the legs go by, watching the breasts go by……in other arms, in other situations… bizarre conceivably, in other people's terms.
Too late, Peter will never change, not going to "succumb" as Susan would say, almost went down with that trollop.. have no intention of changing or shutting up to suit anyone, why should I?
"No one keeps me ..!" As my mother would say acidly, with some bitterness, some venom.
End of another little story.
That was it ! she suddenly broke down into sobs and gasps, all the belligerence and venom, turning to water. Collapsed within herself ..said she had lied.. I said "Fucking sure you have" my voice beginning to gain momentum. I usually speak too softly for most people. Said to her "Had this situation long before you were born, before your mother was born," so I came straight out with it asking "So where's the geezer!!"
Aura came round.. very demure, had a little food, a little red wine..
Bed.
A long night, which she spent most of gently crying in my arms, nothing was going to console her, as if a child ……..as my children..
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
"There'ya are, sport.. There'ya go."
….. As they would remark in "Orstrilia".
August. 6th; 2000. …. Jennifer's Birthday……
3.30.a.m…. Jennifer's time.
Never been to Aura's home, abode.. where she stayed, where she supervised these other young ladies, the house belonging to some Germans, they quite pleased to have Aura run it for them .
Often, over the long period of time I have know Aura, had heard stories, yet always kept discreetly away from the premises, hardly worried me. Have been kept away from, shall we perhaps say, better places, a mere detail in the arrangement she and I had.
This particular afternoon started thinking, little else too do, Cyntia having triggered the idea of popping round previously, she being rather cute at indirectly wynding people up. Made me think, maybe I should drop by, see what does transpire, what does go on, if anything.
Peter put his shorts on, his "Pattaya" singlet, his gold braided "Tottenham" supporters hat, bare feet other than for sandals .. black glasses..
Dresses for the beach, apparently. Quite brown now ..all over.. dressed in almost nothing. Looked good, felt up to the occasion, which I knew it was going to be.
Called the cab, showed him the bit of paper, useless trying to pronounce these streets.
Personally, like Bucharest cabs ..taking your life in your hands every second of the way, the overriding factors being it is extremely cheap and I am not driving…A change for me to sit in the back seat, which I always do.
So, sat in the back seat, put my feet up, made myself quite comfortable, hung tightly on to the handrail above the door, lucky this time there was one.. usually they are broken off, the doors actually closed fully.. Not the faintest echo of the Public carriage office and the Hackney carriage rules and regulations.. quite refreshing
The Taxi inspectors at Penton street would have a group heart attack if they saw this lot of rotting metal hurtling about the boulevards.
Set out on our journey through the pot holes, through the trams, the buses, veering through the cars the hooting and the honking.. the mad rush to oblivion. The driver successfully fought his way through, as they all do, James Bond fashion, regardless of my asking him to take it easy, I, in no particular hurry. My few words of Romanian.. totally ignored .. Foot down, hand on the horn. This piece of protracted excitement, travelling across town, cost me just over a pound sterling, gave him a couple of bob on top, he, most grateful .
Arrived, the driver did the business at the door ringing, evidently the wrong bell, as there was no answer. Thought, well I will hang about, nothing else too do.. he left leaving me posing on the doorstep in my very brief attire. Waited about half an hour.
Aura had mentioned having a Nun stay with her, I always fancied a drop of nun.. "Nun for you and nun for me"… how the story goes.. Wondered what manner of Nun she was.. complete with a mobile phone and a penchant for Jack Daniel's whisky, must be interesting..
Lo and Behold.. along comes a nun in full rig, she not knowing me from bar of soap, I standing in front of the street door, she opened it, followed her in, gave me a funny look, followed her to the lift, gave me another funny look, muttered something, muttered a few words back, pointing upwards towards God, which no doubt consoled her.. Stepped out the same landing as herself, now she quite worried this naked man, in her terms, perhaps pursuing her, maybe believing her luck had changed, who knows what a nun thinks?? When I stood by the same door as she, she became very worried, anyway the door was opened. .there was someone there, as said, the cab driver had rung the wrong bell. Consternation ! Aura not there. .her friend whom I assumed was the girl friend of the Swiss man I heard so very much about, who had received so much money, she gave me a strange look, the nun gave me a strange look…
Asked for Aura, said she was not there, said I would wait and gave every indication of doing so indefinitely.
With that they invited me in into a strange room, in a time warp, furniture at least fifty years old.. clearly nothing had been touched.. neat and tidy.. Large terrace which I went and sat on.. A drink materialized.. the usual 90 % proof stuff.. firewater nothing less. .quite usual in Romania.
Had a few sips, knowing full well they would tip Aura off on the mobile phone I had given her. Peter was there ..never fear.. They disappeared, I sat, looking at the landscape.
Eventually recovering their composure, Aura no doubt informing them I would not bite.. invited me in, another drink.
Now quite comfortable.. few drinks, chatting the birds.. Peter's forte..
Asked the girl, in all innocence, about her "Swiss" man. She came back "What Swiss man !?" Here we go.. Peter thought ..strange.. "You are Auras' friend.. the one she has Known since childhood??" Yes, she was, however, her boy friend, she insisted, was a "Turk" Rather the other end of the spectrum.." Oh…!"
Never said anything more. The nun disappeared. She had been hit by a car, quite seriously damaging her eye.. so very dangerous cars in Bucharest.. no compensation, peanuts.. about all..
Sat there, almost naked as far as these ladies were so obviously concerned . Did have my heavy silver bracelet with the names of all my known children, which offset the inclination of looking at me as if I were some hooligan.
Aura made her breathless, dramatic appearance just as I was getting into the swing of things .
To say she was giving me black looks in no way described her demeanor. If she had a knife she would , I say without hesitation, have stabbed me that instant, that split second in time, when our eyes met.
She removed, somewhat brusquely, my dark glasses in order to get a much better look at me, maybe believing looks could kill. Peter refusing to be ruffled by this display on her part and put the glasses, quite deliberately back on his face.
Apparent the last person she wanted to see in that apartment was Peter. I had already jumped to that obvious conclusion .. enjoying the situation immensely..
From the "Off" known, for whatever reason, Peter had to be kept under wraps , however , here he was, bold, bold as a bowler hat on a Bradford millionaire, sitting quite comfortably, pumping her friend… Still of the opinion Aura's previous.. a Greek.. was still lurking around in his BMW.
Well, we shall see now..
kids stuff….. we know.
Enjoyed it, which is the criterion in my life now… whether or not anything amuses me and it does take rather a lot to do so.
Quite casually, started the ball rolling with …..
"Where is the young lady ..your friend whom you have told me so very much about.. the one who has the "Swiss Man " the man who gives her $12.000 as if it were mere bagatelle!!!
"I do not have any other men" this reply through the tears.. "So why are you crying your eyes out.."
Now really starting to shout and I can do so extremely loudly, loud enough for people to come out on their verandahs, no discretion here, no twitching net curtains "Crying because I lied to you"
"Well, you would not be the first woman to do that or quite conceivably, the last"
Most women lie to Peter, quite a common characteristic for females to lie, even the most devoutly religious ones ..as found to my cost. It is part of the female .
"So why did you concoct such a elaborate story which continued for months??
" I don't know" she said lamely
As Raluca, she went very strange just before sticking the knife in and stole a apartment from me.
On the face of it I had obviously driven Aura mad as have done with the other female faces. All the women ever encountered have cracked in one way or the other.. so it must be Peter. Know I am no good. No! will not go to heaven.
When it comes to women, they simply cannot handle it, must be something about me.. not playing by the rules..
By now, quite a audience, said to Fanny "if you do not tell me now, this instant what is going on and stop sniveling, I will shout louder.." We had taken the situation out to the edge of the terrace. Glorious evening, people becoming quite engrossed in this clearly mad foreigner.. this ancient old man shouting at the young woman.
As my mother, the more she was told to "Shut Up" the louder she shouted, she never gave a toss for anyone. Only the Blacks eventually intimidated and humiliated her, broke her, as so many other old ladies.
Why should I shut up?? have looked after the girl as if she were wife, mistress, princess, daughter, …..granddaughter, which she could be.. simply not the slightest grounds for fucking me about ..story of Peter.
Had every right to know what is going on in the young woman's life, away from myself, when she did not show, feel I am not unreasonable .
By now the girl like a piece of wet rag, all her arrogance, independence, determination if you like, ebbed away as quickly as the tide on Maldon Flats.
Said to her 'Going to stay here until the Greek shows up, like a good fight.. not had one for ages'
"I have no Greek.. he is in England "she insisted.. "How do I know that?? you are capable of telling me anything which comes into your head ..which you think may fit your plan. Yes, I do know what you told me about the Greek, you also told me your girlfriend had a Swiss boyfriend…giving her $12000 a time.…"
Had to rub it in, anyway the little drama had dragged on for about two hours, I getting tired and bored, had my evenings entertainment.
Tried to wynd the situation down.
"Hardly know what to say in these cases, never know what there is too say, what can be said?.. No answer on this Planet, do not ask me for one. As most females, you, consciously or otherwise, revel in being a enigma, a mystery.. What are you all about!? ..why tell me such intricate stories..? hardly run away with the idea you are different from any other woman, because you are not"
Started to consider my situation.. how many 71 year old men have 23 year old birds?? With that thought decided to ease off further, poor bitch..
Why concern myself why? Why she came out with such a fanny of a story, so much conviction attached to it.
Thought of one or two other stories I had been told by other female faces, told with so much earnestness, so much conviction.
I shut up.
No longer interested, very tired.. needed a drink, needed to go back to the comparative sanity of Cynthia, someone who so far has not gone quite off her rocker, has come pretty close to it on occasions. She possess this fierce determination to hold on to Peter and evidently her sanity at all costs, do not know why, disregarding his wanderings, his misplaced attitudes, his lack of respect for society and the people in it, herself on occasions. All this she totally ignores, acts at times, as if Aura is part of the family, other times, she is slightly more the other way. Whatever, the situation, so far as she is concerned… Nothing too much trouble.. twenty four hours a day.. every day. Naturally, now wanting to return to Cynthia on my weary horse, weary of charging at windmills, needing the comfort of a "Home" .
By now the situation had subsided, Aura going down in the lift with me, I also thinking more practically… of her beautiful naked body in bed and the way she can use it….
She told the cab driver the directions, plenty on my mind without attempting the Romanian language.
Saw I had recovered, now more pliable, looking at her breasts, falling the way all women wish all men to fall ..hostage to their charms, their mystery, aware I had not taken too much real interest in her little lies, saw also, her own position had completely changed, the "Cat out of the bag".. having to admit the truth to her friends.
God knows what fanny, what fairy stories she had told them about the "Englishman". Probably I was "Prince Charming", twenty four years old, had three camels and two Mercedes, for all I know..
All out in the open now .. she working her way through University………Okay..
My parting shot.
"Better have a shower, straighten your face out, change your knickers, come round about nine………"
Drifted away.
An evenings' entertainment.. something..
Had little intention of mentioning to Cyn, would only be ammunition for her to throw at me, not directly.. simply sniping at the opportune moment, as indeed every woman, a inherent capability.. biding their time.. then shooting straight when one is unprepared.
Naturally she is not entirely happy with the situation, although it suits her sometimes.. My, shall we say "girlfriend" living with us occasionally. Then we all have our problems. I making it quiet clear when she married me, would still play my small games, this she readily concurred to.
If she tries to become respectable now, slippers by the fire. nodding my evenings away in the armchair.. loses her fetish for the whip, the chains and the handcuffs. Watching me watching the legs go by, watching the breasts go by……in other arms, in other situations… bizarre conceivably, in other people's terms.
Too late, Peter will never change, not going to "succumb" as Susan would say, almost went down with that trollop.. have no intention of changing or shutting up to suit anyone, why should I?
"No one keeps me ..!" As my mother would say acidly, with some bitterness, some venom.
End of another little story.
That was it ! she suddenly broke down into sobs and gasps, all the belligerence and venom, turning to water. Collapsed within herself ..said she had lied.. I said "Fucking sure you have" my voice beginning to gain momentum. I usually speak too softly for most people. Said to her "Had this situation long before you were born, before your mother was born," so I came straight out with it asking "So where's the geezer!!"
Aura came round.. very demure, had a little food, a little red wine..
Bed.
A long night, which she spent most of gently crying in my arms, nothing was going to console her, as if a child ……..as my children..
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
"There'ya are, sport.. There'ya go."
….. As they would remark in "Orstrilia".
August. 6th; 2000. …. Jennifer's Birthday……
3.30.a.m…. Jennifer's time.
Bucharest, Tuesday, February 29, 2000 ….2:46 .p.m
A very warm day….. sitting here looking at the words.
Out and about this morning with Cynthia. Aura left us at the University, deciding she had better show her face, although she should have been there at eight a.m. What is her problem? Not quite realizing she is off the hook, no longer having to fear falling by the wayside. . back to the cow shed and the village, tried to impress this on her, hardly the case even before we met. Young, intelligent, attractive woman who has never failed a exam, never had any help or hand outs, having worked her way to the front via scholarships and her own efforts. The trouble, being lack of confidence and naturally, finance, her scholarship allowance being 700.000 lei a month ( $ 38) with the threat of, if failing even one exam, loosing that princely sum. No good looking to her parents, (Her mother earns less than $2 a day in the fields..12 hours….. You want to believe it. Aura's wrist is permanently damaged after wielding a scythe in the fields from dawn to dusk …….from the age of ten.)
The experience of her early existence, drained and intimidated Aura in many respects, still having to struggle, to find some occupation, even cleaning, the strain showing quite clearly that day we all inadvertently met in the rain
Rather a different person now. . having been through the Peter process.. Sir Galahad evidently still not quite dead, slightly stiff perhaps, nevertheless, with some reluctance, still charging at windmills……
Sitting here, now 3.a.m. after a long day of doing nothing, always been my time, ever since Jennifer. Used to pick up Mark the from school at 3.30.p.m. and her from Churchill's club at 3.30.a.m.
Usually ring Aura about this time if she is at her home.. has become used to me, always saying very softly, “ Oh Peter why don't you sleep!” surprised, always surprised at my ringing her, as if she does not bare consideration ... reticent … hardly the word
Out and about this morning with Cynthia. Aura left us at the University, deciding she had better show her face, although she should have been there at eight a.m. What is her problem? Not quite realizing she is off the hook, no longer having to fear falling by the wayside. . back to the cow shed and the village, tried to impress this on her, hardly the case even before we met. Young, intelligent, attractive woman who has never failed a exam, never had any help or hand outs, having worked her way to the front via scholarships and her own efforts. The trouble, being lack of confidence and naturally, finance, her scholarship allowance being 700.000 lei a month ( $ 38) with the threat of, if failing even one exam, loosing that princely sum. No good looking to her parents, (Her mother earns less than $2 a day in the fields..12 hours….. You want to believe it. Aura's wrist is permanently damaged after wielding a scythe in the fields from dawn to dusk …….from the age of ten.)
The experience of her early existence, drained and intimidated Aura in many respects, still having to struggle, to find some occupation, even cleaning, the strain showing quite clearly that day we all inadvertently met in the rain
Rather a different person now. . having been through the Peter process.. Sir Galahad evidently still not quite dead, slightly stiff perhaps, nevertheless, with some reluctance, still charging at windmills……
Sitting here, now 3.a.m. after a long day of doing nothing, always been my time, ever since Jennifer. Used to pick up Mark the from school at 3.30.p.m. and her from Churchill's club at 3.30.a.m.
Usually ring Aura about this time if she is at her home.. has become used to me, always saying very softly, “ Oh Peter why don't you sleep!” surprised, always surprised at my ringing her, as if she does not bare consideration ... reticent … hardly the word
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.
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.
Possible few men have tried so much as I to come to terms with women
Possible few men have tried so much as I to come to terms with women, every man I have known, without exception, given up, taken to drink, "succumbed ", (as Susan would put it with a faint satisfied smile about her lips) one way or the other.
Or, to laugh it off. "Er indoors". "The old woman" or, as Bernie always said quite loudly "My wife" although "indoors" he was the most pathetic, downtrodden creature it has ever been my misfortune to observe.
There is little hesitation on my part in saying that most of these men deserved the treatment meted out. Have personally always known the exact moment it is time to disappear. The transformation in Anna, from a very young unworldly woman.. to someone who would completely dominate a situation, going so far as to attempt physical violence to gain control. Fortunately I have not the slightest compunction in striking back, survival always been very strong in the Ridgley family.
Had five page, hand written letter from Cynthia today.. find it very difficult to read being powerless to do anything about her distraught feelings so openly spread across each page.
Looked at my accounts trying to see some way of squeezing a trip out of a whole column of minus signs. Rang to say I will go next week, have not the faintest notion where to conjure up the finance. Maybe the idea will stop her going completely up the wall, although she sounded quite good.
Then she always does.. a trooper.
It occurred to me that perhaps I am looking on Cynthia as the "Old Woman" although younger than my four eldest sons, incredibly, younger than Jennifer. Bucharest somewhere for me to go "home" too? Perhaps my sister brought this idea to me, remarking that most people "settle down" at twenty five ..somehow I am forty years late in reaching this.
Hard for me to shake off the Marine Bar ..for many years having looked upon it as the end of my particular road.. being impossible to go any further.. another thousand yards, the lights fade, the noise replaced by the soft sound of surf on the dark deserted beach, the road and my thinking, stopped dead, confronted by high, white cliffs, brightly reflecting a moon and stars of huge proportions.. unseen in the West
Remarkably Cynthia knows my thoughts, knows more or less which way the wind is blowing in my brain.. That maybe if I am so pissed off should go to Thailand .. Last trip there she sent me a Valentine card..! Imagine! Certain parties I know.. could only scream and seek "counselling" "Bangkok! what sort of diseases have you caught there!"
Such thinking, always left me more than annoyed, as if the Far East is a running, septic sore.. These bitches over here expecting their shit to be used as tooth paste, so full of themselves and their own expectations from other people, i.e. men. Their uncompromising, dominating attitude, enough for any man to get the first plane out. The current trend being Eastern Europe and Cuba..
Or, to laugh it off. "Er indoors". "The old woman" or, as Bernie always said quite loudly "My wife" although "indoors" he was the most pathetic, downtrodden creature it has ever been my misfortune to observe.
There is little hesitation on my part in saying that most of these men deserved the treatment meted out. Have personally always known the exact moment it is time to disappear. The transformation in Anna, from a very young unworldly woman.. to someone who would completely dominate a situation, going so far as to attempt physical violence to gain control. Fortunately I have not the slightest compunction in striking back, survival always been very strong in the Ridgley family.
Had five page, hand written letter from Cynthia today.. find it very difficult to read being powerless to do anything about her distraught feelings so openly spread across each page.
Looked at my accounts trying to see some way of squeezing a trip out of a whole column of minus signs. Rang to say I will go next week, have not the faintest notion where to conjure up the finance. Maybe the idea will stop her going completely up the wall, although she sounded quite good.
Then she always does.. a trooper.
It occurred to me that perhaps I am looking on Cynthia as the "Old Woman" although younger than my four eldest sons, incredibly, younger than Jennifer. Bucharest somewhere for me to go "home" too? Perhaps my sister brought this idea to me, remarking that most people "settle down" at twenty five ..somehow I am forty years late in reaching this.
Hard for me to shake off the Marine Bar ..for many years having looked upon it as the end of my particular road.. being impossible to go any further.. another thousand yards, the lights fade, the noise replaced by the soft sound of surf on the dark deserted beach, the road and my thinking, stopped dead, confronted by high, white cliffs, brightly reflecting a moon and stars of huge proportions.. unseen in the West
Remarkably Cynthia knows my thoughts, knows more or less which way the wind is blowing in my brain.. That maybe if I am so pissed off should go to Thailand .. Last trip there she sent me a Valentine card..! Imagine! Certain parties I know.. could only scream and seek "counselling" "Bangkok! what sort of diseases have you caught there!"
Such thinking, always left me more than annoyed, as if the Far East is a running, septic sore.. These bitches over here expecting their shit to be used as tooth paste, so full of themselves and their own expectations from other people, i.e. men. Their uncompromising, dominating attitude, enough for any man to get the first plane out. The current trend being Eastern Europe and Cuba..
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