Mirage Beyond Flames (Coriola) (3 page)

Chapter Three

Although she owned the house for a few months, Linda’s excitement toward the rust-colored brick building hadn’t decreased in the least. The house had one storey, three bedrooms and two baths, displaying a simple façade which didn’t differ in any way from the buildings forming a select neighborhood somewhere in South London. Afferent to the main building was a small, white garage and in front of these stretched a driveway, guarded by old trees. The access to it was through a massive gate, old looking and elegant, like the entire ambient, but having a modern alarm system and centralized opening.

Linda pressed a button of the remote ever present
on her car’s dashboard and the ornate gates slid with unexpected grace.

By
pushing another button, the garage door lifted. She parked her car, then got out and unlocked a side-way door which connected the garage with the house. The door led straight to a huge living room, with enormous windows, revealing the panorama that had enchanted her so much: a pool with sinuous, asymmetric forms meandered behind the house. Alongside it, numerous garden dwarves, elves and other fairytale characters held, in ceramic hands, dozens of lanterns. When night fell, the combined lights gave the scenery a charming appearance, seemingly detached from the same fairytales as their bearers. Next to the pool – a rarely used extravagance, although it had a heating system – was a narrow platform with a bunch of lounge chairs. Beyond all these stretched a wild-looking yard, its trees and shrubs sheltering a small gazebo – Linda’s workshop.

She sprawled on the
living room couch in front of a massive TV screen – one of the few furniture items. Browsing through channels in search of something interesting, she called her companion. He immediately appeared from the kitchen, tail welcomingly raised in the air, and jumped on her lap, purring noisily.

“How’s my beautiful
, sweet baby-cat?” she asked, lovingly stroking the soft white fur, immaculate except for some black spots on the front paws - which looked like cat shoes. A patch of dark fur spread around his left eye. This dark patch, nearly circular, conferred the cat a prankish look and had brought him the name Pirata.

In the three years since he had been
born, Pirata and his mistress had been inseparable. He was her most faithful friend and wise confidant.

The cat let out a mel
odious meow, to which she promptly replied:

“Yes, dar
ling, I was at the clinic today. If it was possible, I would’ve taken you along, I’m sure you could have cheered up the children a bit.”

She kept talki
ng, caressing the cat’s clean fur, whilst he listened carefully to her every word, watching her with his slanted blue eyes.

“I’ve met one of the doctors, a guy… Well, a great guy
apparently, but you know I don’t trust men much, right? Especially the ones who seem too good to be true.”

Pirata gently ru
bbed his pink nose against hers, making her laugh.

“Look at me, I’m completely pathetic, my best friend is a
cat and the funny thing is that I get the impression you truly understand what the hell I’m saying! Let’s grab something to eat,” she said and got up, following the cat, who led the way to the kitchen.

The kitchen was furnished as simply
as the rest of the house. In the center stood a triangular counter – which also served as a table with two chairs. Cupboards and other utensils were disposed along the walls around the counter, all surfaces being immaculately white.

“Let’s see what M
rs. Adams cooked for us,” she muttered, referring to the housekeeper she’d hired, at the recommendation of the old couple who had sold her the house, after they had benefited for five years from Mrs. Adams services.

Linda inspected the frid
ge, discovering chicken soup, something that appeared to be mushroom omelet and pumpkin pie - her favorite dessert.

“Mm, we’re
going to eat excellent tonight.”

S
he put food and water for Pirata in
his zone
– an area next to the kitchen door where the cat had his sleeping basket, toys and even a swinging little door, specially built for his access and cat-ish needs – then ate some omelet  sitting at the counter.

When she finished
it, she took a piece of pie and installed herself in front of the TV, on the living room sofa.

While changing the channels, bored, she stumbled over one of the numerous film versions made after Paul Feval’s book,
Le bossu, a
book she had especially liked in childhood. The movie wasn’t half too bad, so she watched it interestedly. After it ended, she noticed darkness had fallen and her elves – or rather the photo sensors with which they were equipped –had turned on their lanterns, creating sublime games of light on the pool’s shiny surface. Seeing as it had probably been one of the hottest days in London’s history, the pool seemed more alluring than ever.

Pirata had sprawled onto her la
p at some point in the middle of the movie and he was deeply asleep. Linda lowered him gently on the sofa, receiving in exchange a small protesting meow.

She climbed the stairs to her bedroom and undressed, leaving her clothes in her specific disordered style, discarded on the huge b
ed covered with blue sheets, same color as the walls. She put on a tiny black swimsuit, almost new. She grabbed her cell phone – from which she rarely could be separated – and turned on the radio application, finding a channel with pop, rhythmic music that perfectly suited her mood. She left the phone on a lounge chair next to the pool and slowly sank into the water, savoring the feeling of liquid coolness, as pleasant as a hot bath on a cold winter night.

Pirata, awakened by the commotion and music, had come to keep her company and was watching his lazily swimming mistress, while h
e was sprawled among dwarves in the grass.

After she swam enough,
a pleasant fatigue spread into her muscles. She turned her face up in the water and let herself float, gazing at the dark sky, where no star seemed to ever show itself.

Smog
, she thought melancholically, then started to move her arms slowly to reach the pool’s side.

Precisely when she was getting ready to
climb out, the radio stopped, as the phone started ringing.

“Who the hell is it at this hour?”
she rhetorically asked the cat who was imitating her, stretching with his belly in the air and scratching with his playful claws the paint of a poor elf.

Linda rushed out of the pool, quickly dried her hands on a towel and grabbed the phone. She didn’t know the number on the display screen.

“Hello,” she answered a tad too briskly.

“Hello, Linda, it’s Gerard Leon. I’m standing in front of your gate but I don’t kno
w how to get in and it’s kind of difficult to climb over it. Could you open it for me?”

For a few seconds, she
didn’t manage to utter a sound. Eventually she asked:

“Gerard? What the hell are you doing her
e at this time of night?”

“I’ll explain when you open. Or would you rather I climb over the gate?”

“No, don’t touch it!” she said aggravated. “It’s gonna start the alarm and alert the security company. Although maybe it’s not such a bad idea. Hold on, I’ll be right there.”

What the hell is he doing here at this hour?
she asked herself once more, while she was hastily wrapping a towel around herself and put on a pair of beach slippers.

The driveway
leading to the gates was quite long and Linda, her hair and skin wet, began to feel the cold brought by nightfall and the pool’s chilly water. Once she reached the gate, she looked at Gerard through the thick bars, then introduced the code to disable the alarm.

“How do you know my address and what are you doing here at this hour?”

Chapter Four

Gerard
couldn’t distinguish much in the deep darkness. Nevertheless, he spotted the towel, which revealed a pair of long legs, smooth shoulders and arms that held the fabric in a shriveling pose. In the moonlight, her skin had a pearly glow. The water drops dripping from her hair were lost somewhere behind the fist that gathered the towel to her chest.

He
clutched hard one of the gate’s bars, trying to control the incredible reactions triggered in his body and mind by this semi-nude nymph, toward whom he felt a magnetic attraction.

“You forgot your sunglasses
at the clinic. I took your address from the register book and came to return them to you, along with this.”

He
outstretched his other hand revealing, in the low light, a single white rose.

“Can I come in?” he asked. “I swear my intention
s are as innocent as this rose,” he went on, joking.

She appeared hesitant,
but considering she was probably half frozen, she opened the gate then stepped aside to make room for him. He knew he was watching her with an almost tangible intensity, the glow of his eyes defying the darkness, but was helpless to tear his gaze away.

He handed he
r the sunglasses and the flower. She took them with a shaky hand, murmuring:

“Thanks,
but you shouldn’t have bothered.”

“It was no bother, on the contrary. I was hoping you’ll invite me for a coffee and you look like you could use something hot.”

As though she completely agreed, Linda indicated the house’s direction and they both headed to the building.

Gerard co
ntinued to watch her discretely from the corner of his eye. As the lights from the windows revealed a clearer image of the woman beside him, it was increasingly hard not to touch her. He felt an acute need to enfold her in his arms, to warm that suave skin with hot kisses. Did she feel the same attraction or was she as cold and distant as she seemed? He would have given anything to know what she was thinking right in that moment, but she kept walking without sketching any gesture that could reflect her mindset.

“Do you live alone?” he asked, before he remained completely deaf to the voice of reason and do something he wasn’t sure he should.

“No.”

Her answer
overly surprised him. According to the sources from the clinic, Linda lived alone, the rest of her family was in Italy - her birth-land.

“With whom, then?”
he asked again, seeing she didn’t plan to elaborate in regard to this subject.

They finally r
eached the front door, which had been left open. A white cat was waiting on the steps, obviously bothered by the presence of a nocturnal intruder.

“With him,”
Linda answered, indicating the cat, who permanently seemed to wink at somebody. “His name is Pirata and he’s my best friend,” she added smiling and signaling him to come in.

In the living room, she
invited him to sit on the sofa.

“Please, wait for me
a few minutes, I’m gonna go change.”

“No problem, no rush,”
he replied. “If you show me where the kitchen is, I can make some hot chocolate.”

Linda looked at him a bit surprised, then guided him to the kitchen.

“You’ll find mugs up in that cupboard, the chocolate is here, on the right,” she explained. “I usually heat water in the microwave.”

“Go and dress,”
he said. “And please dry your hair, I wouldn’t want you to catch a cold.”

So saying, he took a wet strand of h
er hair between his fingers and with a slow, fluid motion, lifted it to his lips, deeply inhaling her subtle scent.

Linda watched him, seemingly not
being able to escape his mesmerizing gaze, so intense he felt it could penetrate a wall. After a moment, she took a deep breath and said:

“I think y
ou’ll be fine until I get back.”

She turned and walked out, climbing the stairs fast, clutc
hing her towel with one hand, the sunglasses and flower with the other.

* * *

Once she reached the bedroom, she put the rose in a vase filled with water, then started to dry her hair, fully enjoying the hair-drier’s hot blast warming her skin.

Inwardly, she knew she was trying to postpone as much as possible the moment she had to
go downstairs and face Gerard, sit next to him, find conversation topics. The reasons of this delay weren’t too clear though.

He’s an extremely attractive guy, fig
hting for the same cause as you. He’s intelligent, educated, he looks extraordinary. He can melt you with a single glance, so what’s the damned problem?
she asked her conscience.

But she knew the problem v
ery well. Her reluctance toward all the commitments a relationship involved, the fact she wasn’t disposed to give up a single ounce from her so-hard-earned freedom and independence… Above all, she privately knew if she started a relationship with this man, no matter how emotionally detached she’d try to be, it would have been impossible not to fall in love with him. And if he wouldn’t have shared her feelings, her heart would have been broken. On the other hand, if he’d feel the same, surely Gerard would want more: marriage, commitments, responsibilities – things which Linda had convinced herself she didn’t want in her life, at least not too soon.