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«I’m living my own life. You wouldn’t understand. You think I’m stupid because I’m waiting for a shining engagement ring on my nameless finger, waiting for his kiss on my lips? You have to make the most out of life, it is so fleeting, and you have to share your body with someone! If I have one weakness, then it’s sex…»
«I don’t recognise you, Rachel! What I’m hearing, you’re going mad!»
«If there’s one thing I do not need right now, it is a high-and-mighty lecture from my younger sister… What do you know? I happen to be being tormented by hopeless love. Nothing on earth can come close to the bitterness of love rejected. But life goes on. Do you remember how to dance? The second partner changes places with the first, the third with the second… And you dance while you can, whilst you’re young! And live life to the full, whilst you can. But macho men, so untrustworthy and faithless, so depraved… I was depressed, and felt like a right moron, before I realised I had to forget about them! Put them out of my mind. Idiots! They rejected me!»
«I know, you don’t deserve that, Rachel…»
«Yes, I’m unhallowed. I prayed and confessed to all my sins in expectation of a miracle. And Jesus came to me, and he told me that I was the most faithful Christian myrrh bearer Mary Magdalene, and that I was worthy of his love. He gave me a jar of incense, and ordered me to pour myrrh over his legs and to dry it with my hair. Then he pronounced that it was for my sake that he died on the cross and resurrected, to cure me of the Seven Sins…» she nodded her head with certainty, continuing her nonsensical narrative, not letting her sister get in a single word.
«He warned me that my clothes will soon decay, but that my nakedness will be covered by my long hair. I am growing it now, and he said my haggard body will be flown up to Heaven by angels every night for healing.» Erin was silent. She observed the unfolding scene and tried to avoid making contact with those familiar and darkened eyes opposite her, and gradually fought back tears. An indescribable horror gripped her, horror and sorrow. It had finally happened, Rachel had gone mad! And her entire world with it! «What will I say to them when I get home?»
Then she saw something new, something she was hard pressed to believe, Rachel had now begun to grin like an animal. But to her surprise, Rachel asked with sadness and na?vetе in her voice:
«You don’t believe me either?» and she burst into tears bitterly. «You don’t believe that Jesus came to see me, a sinner? You’re asking why he is with me, and not you?» and then she suddenly broke out into a disturbing laugh, almost a guffaw, and exclaimed loudly, «It’s because he would never have come to visit the world of believers…»
«Rachel…» Erin was trying all she could to calm her sister down, «you’re acting like a headcase. Sometimes I think you’re only putting on this charade, this ham-fisted farce, just to get back at me?»
«Thank God, you get it at last!» she triumphantly raised her hands to the ceiling. «You had me locked up in here! Shame on you!»
«We had to, Rachel! You‘re ill!»
«You’re the sick ones! You decided to get rid of me… Even our wise father… To whom I’m useless…»
«You’re angry with us?»
«Angry? Don’t ask stupid questions! You’re all long dead to me. As I am to you! You have no place in my life! I’ll never ever forgive you! I’m sick of being goody two shoes!»
«What have I ever done to you, Rachel? Why do you hate me… we’re sisters. For basically your entire life Mum and Dad ran around after you like a child.»
«They never loved me, especially not after you were born. They did nothing but cherish you and pamper you. And for me? Nothing! It made me furious!»
«That’s not how it was, Rachel! Stop it! How could you say that now? Now, with Dad dying. He has cancer!» but the other didn’t raise an eyebrow. She just bit greedily into a juicy, bright red, almost blood red apple, and asked with annoyance, «All you ever think about are yourselves. Did you ever think ever about me? What was I even born for at all?»
«That was God’s will.»
«It was more likely Mum’s and Dad’s sexual craving… And did they ever ask me if I wanted to exist on this earth?»
«A strange conversation. You know what, dear sister, I’ll tell you this, you‘re impossible! What are you trying to achieve here anyway?»
Suddenly she pressed herself up against the back of the armchair, burrowing herself into it, and requested sadly, «I want you to burn my slippers whilst I’m here. Otherwise they‘ll wither and die of lack of attention. And, if you want, you can sleep in my bedroom sometimes. It’s okay… Don’t you love me at least a bit?»
Joy emanated in Erin’s mind: «Hallelujah! Oh Lord, hallelujah! Is this anything less than a miracle?» It was as though there were several different versions of her sister which constantly fought with each other, buckling under pressure at first from the dark side of her, which was evidently more powerful, and then back to the lighter side. In that moment, her face perked up in a long-awaited and promising way, which laid bare the lighter side of her perception of life. This was a very good omen.
«I love you so much Rachel!» she answered joyously, «you’re my sister!»
«But sometimes I think you hate me…»
«Sometimes I really did begin to hate you. But even then I… I did love you. Wait, let me take a picture for Dad…» they hugged, wrapping their arms around one another, and tightly pressing up against each other. «Oh, your hair is caught in my earrings.» Erin, with an embarrassed smile, tried to disentangle her golden ear clip from Rachel’s dishevelled black hair. Rachel, helping Erin to free her hair, exposed her neck, upon which under her locks there was hidden a circular, brown birthmark the size of a small pea, so soft and coquettish. She had doubtlessly driven a few men, even those who had been round the block a few times, out of their minds with it.
«It’s never too late to start again! It’s most important for us to be together, Rachel. A burden has been taken off my shoulders and I’m so delighted. Peace?»
«Hmmm, not sure…» she was still slightly obstinate. «Maybe, but peace will take a while. It’s complicated. Do you remember when I taught those good-for-nothings a lesson in our pub?» Of course, Erin remembered the incident mired in scandal, which led to consequences so serious as to threaten the family business. Rachel had the job of helping the waiters in the pub. The incident occurred on a Friday night, when the pub was filled to the rafters. «Those two new customers, English ones, who placed that order? Remember? Those two little prissy girls did not like our Irish food!»
«I remember, I was serving their table,» thinking back to this incident made Erin feel uncomfortable, «then you came along and never let me get a word in!»
«Those Anglo-Saxons, so high and mighty, too proud to share a drink with me! Paid no attention to me! They were probably content just to be by themselves! Then they threw an off glance in my direction… Refused to pay for their food they wolfed down. Those beautiful pork ribs in gravy to induce drooling… They said they preferred vegetarian food, and demanded a vegetable salad on the house… A little voice inside me told me instantly how to ruffle their feathers…»
«You asked them what they were doing…»
«Yeah, those odious, pathetic penny-pinchers worked as archive rats in the London Museum of Modern Arts, and had come up to Birmingham for a romantic weekend…»
«To this day I have no idea what possessed you to offer them, these experts of modern art, the «masterpiece of culinary art.» How much balls to bring them faeces in the shape of a cracknel biscuit, calling this «dish’ spinach puree. And you happily wished them bon appetit! It’ll be a long time before I will have the strength to torture myself with awful memories like that. How much effort and how many means Dad needed to sort that one out!»
Rachel guffawed provocatively. People near them began to give sidelong looks in their direction. An older woman, a visitor, was listening in, and nodded her head, indicating understanding that it was inevitable for the inhabitants of the hospital to behave in this way. Stopping her laughter suddenly, Rachel opened her black eyes and, in a kind of secretive and conspiratorial way, whispered: «Listen! Do you hear a voice?»
«A voice?»
«Yes, Erin, a voice! A voice from the Heavens, they’re calling me, I must go… Leave me…»
Laden with a heavy burden in her stomach, Erin watched her leave. She then slowly exited for her beige Peugeot 307 and started the engine. Throwing a parting glance at the hospital, her eyes read the sign above the main entrance…
Abandon hope, all ye who enter here…
She gave herself a shake and returned to reality, realising that this was a trick of her imagination.
That night, in a dream, she saw Doctor Johnson. Her masculine figure with her smooth, naked torso leaned rapaciously over her bed. Alongside her, looking at Erin sadly, there was the quietly pleading and petrified face of the writer, Luke. Suddenly, her bewildered, maddened eyes met the wild eyes of the doctor, who hissed acidly, exposing her toothless mouth and clearly striking every word:
«I will prove to you, red-headed darling Erin O’Brian, that this is genetic! And I won’t bid you farewell, because I’ll see you soon!»
4. Arthur and the gypsy
Arthur woke at dawn, screwing up his eyes immediately against the ray of sun beaming persistently into them, reminding him to get up. He unwillingly stretched out an arm from under the sheets and put on his wristwatch on a leather strap. It had just gone 7 o’clock. He still had 23 minutes remaining until his alarm clock went off. But this restless and irrepressible ray of warm, soft April sun continued to bear down on him, having set its sights on his sleepy eyes…
He stood up and began to move towards the bathroom. Brushing his brilliant white teeth with a thorough, circular motion, he examined himself in the mirror thoughtfully, «Nearly 33, but still in good form,» he thought reassuringly. A tall man stood looking at him from the other side of the mirror, well built with broad shoulders which demonstrated his strong complexion, with a bright, noble face and expressive, dark blue eyes. His hair was a light chestnut brown with a pleasant lustreless character, and which was naturally curly, attesting to his being well born, in the same way as the chestnut brown or, as is more common, black curly mane of a thoroughbred white horse. His eyes were set under thin, handsome eyebrows. Above them was his open, pale forehead on which, if one looked closely, one could notice the first signs of shallow wrinkles criss crossing each other. His straight nose, with a small but noticeable bump, told of his forthright character, occasionally tempered to the wise compromise, and pyjamas fastened only by two lower buttons, and which gave a glimpse of his strikingly pure whiteness. This told of a true gentleman, rejective of anything ostentatious, but loving of order, comfort, a fresh outfit, and a rich library.
Entering the room opposite his, Arthur tenderly kissed his soundly sleeping daughter on the forehead and caringly rearranged her bedsheets. From the next room there came the loud snoring of his aunt. Going downstairs into the kitchen, he expertly prepared himself the traditional full English of fried eggs, toast, sausages, tomatoes, and mushrooms. He had a strong black coffee with it and, dressing for the weather in a coat, and taking his briefcase, he set off out into the street with his usual unhurried step, moving in an easy and elegant manner. He wanted a bit of a stroll to take in the pure morning air, before foggy smog could descend on the city. He was in no hurry, since he had more than enough time before the working day started. It was only the previous day that he had beaten fierce competition in all manner of interviews and was finally offered a long-awaited and tantalising job at a big hospital with a very highly regarded reputation. His first day had now arrived, he now had to step up and fulfil his serious burden of responsibilities as a neurosurgeon.
«You blind? You just ran into an old lady, almost knocked her off her feet!» standing in the middle of the pavement, staring at him with offence, was a woman who was long-in-the-tooth, a brightly coloured headscarf flung carelessly around her head. She was holding her right arm to one side in which she carried a lit candle, every finger adorned with golden rings which glistened in the sunlight. Her other arm supported a big sewn bag hanging from her back.
She seemed taller than she actually was, and such a slim figure could only belong to a dancer. Or a former dancer. She did not look like a native of the British Isles, Spanish, perhaps. Her skin was slightly darkened and had a certain mirific, golden shade. Her face, which held a bygone beauty, was framed in blueish black, long, and curly hair, though if one looked closely, one could make out the several strands of grey. And her wide, bold eyes, shining in the yet weak morning sun, showed her strong willed and independent character, but she was at the same time, it seemed, kind and righteous. Everything about her reminded Arthur of the charming Esmeralda, the heroine of the Victor Hugo novel The Cathedral of Notre-Dame, who danced to the banging of drums. To be more precise, she reminded him of the actress Gina Lollobrigida, who had, a very long time ago, made a triumph of this role. The only difference was that the heroine of the novel was 16 years old and the Esmeralda confronting him was of a more respectable age, about 40 years older… How on earth could he have failed to notice this lady?
«Why you just standing there?» she boldly took a step towards him, as though challenging him to a duel.
«Forgive me, madam,» answered Arthur politely, bowing his head slightly and made to walk past, but it seemed the woman was not going to forgive him easily.
«Forgive you? I should think not!» she answered sharply, and proudly drew herself up to her full height, her necklace of golden coins and badges, pearls, beads, colourful stones, and corals jingling on her chest. Her bright red skirt of chiffon, long and flared, embroidered with lace and crystals, swayed in harmony with her movement, showing her plain sandals with straps which brought Greek sandals to mind, and painted tassels with buckles. Had Arthur not seen these, he could have been led to believe with certainty that she was barefoot.
«Are you blind? I’m here to sing Jelem Jelem for a sacred ritual, or don’t you know what that is. Or are you deaf? Keep walking, you scared me!»
«What ritual, madam?» asked Arthur without thinking, believing this entire episode to be just a silly coincidence, something of no concern to him at all…
«Don’t you know what day it is, young man?»
«I do know, ma’am, the 8th of April…» he racked his brains, trying to remember seeing any special occasions marked on the calendar on his kitchen wall.
«Exactly! The 8th of April! Need I explain? But you wouldn’t understand anyhow,» clearly, she was to beat around the bush with him no longer, and began to address him as ty, and to pointlessly wave her arm at him. But she had hurt this English gentleman’s feelings.
«Wait, madam… I… I ask for your forgiveness for offending you, I didn’t mean to…» he said quickly, but suddenly found he could not take his eyes off this woman, and was intrigued: «What significance has today, madam?»
«It’s World Gypsy Day!» she said with open pride, but in her voice there were underlying tones of aggravation. «Shame you didn’t know. Remember this day!» and she slapped him on the shoulder with the palm of her hand in a friendly manner. So that’s who she was! A gypsy, of all people, imagine that! So, he was right to be reminded of Esmeralda the Gypsy, though she was not borne of gypsies, but raised by them. Immediately he had memories of what he had heard about this people’s strange powers to cast evil spells, that one must never, under any circumstances let them touch you, or even look one in the eye!
«Don’t be afraid of me,» it was as though she was reading his mind. «I’m not unforgiving… Very well then, goodbye!» her kind and dark-skinned face was now very playful and full of life. She now seemed to be about to stick out her tongue at him.
«Thank you, madam!» he answered.
«Why do you keep saying «madam, madam, madam’? I’m not that old yet. My name is Lily. Just «Lily’», she introduced herself, and held out a half-draped arm. «And what is your name?»
«Arthur, Arthur Smith.»
«And are you a stylist?» she suddenly asked happily, admiring him appreciatively from head to toe.
«No.»
«No?» she was slightly surprised, «But your arms are so fine, so light and sensitive, although you have nerves of steel, and the heart of a lion… Well, that doesn’t matter, forget about it. Well, if you’re not a stylist, then are you gay?»
«Madam, may I ask you to be a bit more selective in the expressions you use…»
«Was it something Lily said?» she spread her arms blamelessly. «That’s just you being too well brought up. But not a snob either. Or maybe you’re both at the same time, well? Doesn’t matter, Lily is joking. Forget it. I believe in equality of cultures and religions. Unfortunately, our prissy modern society will not be sharing the same views any time soon…»
«Buy a seashell! Buy a seashell!» a slovenly-looking salesman walked past, carrying a tray with small shells from rivers and the sea in delicate shapes around his neck. Seeing Arthur, he stopped beside him and determinedly recited from memory: «Buy a seashell, sir! Go on! It’ll bring you luck.» Arthur, seeing that being rid of the salesman would not be easy, asked: «How much?» and pointed at the shell nearest to him, a small pink one.
«It’s yours for only five pounds, sir» the salesman answered, showing his yellow teeth.
«Daylight robbery! A pure rip-off!» Lily suddenly interrupted, turning to him confrontationally, «What’s your name, sir…»
«And what’s it to you?» the salesman said indignantly, waving his arms and spraying spit. «Back off, Mystic Meg… You’re getting on my nerves…»
«TELL ME YOUR NAME…» Lily repeated slowly, not taking her gaze off him, and moving her head from side to side, suddenly looking fearful, like a boa-constrictor hypnotising a frog to immediately, voluntarily, and with complete humility, jump into its gaping abyss. Arthur was struck by the tone of her voice and her powerful, determined expression, bearing into the salesman like a sharp dagger.
«Matthew,» he said quickly. Into his voice there had by some strange way come an unquestioning submission. «Your name is from the Bible,» she said meaningfully, «and it means „the gift from God,“ but your prices are sinful! You think money grows on trees? Remember to observe decency. And now, move on.» And surprisingly obediently he moved off without saying a word, taking away nothing but his portable plywood tray.
«Never buy seashells, Arthur! They don’t bring luck… They only cause their owner isolation… Remember what Lily has told you…» and the gypsy made to turn around and leave. But she happened to bump nose first into a young man in ripped jeans, a crumpled shirt, and old trainers.
«Hey gypsy, tell my future!» he hassled her boldly, and with a brazen smirk.
«You‘re just a child! Have you even completed your GCSEs, son?» asked Lily mockingly.
«What?» this insult incensed him. «I’ll «ave you…» Arthur watched as he hurled himself at her and loomed over her, but she shook her head, meaning not to escalate matters. «Calm yourself down!» she held out an arm as if to put some space between herself and the young man. «I see you’re a big boy. Listen, could you not get that close to me. I’m not your mother… I say what I mean… Get out of my way. So, I’ll bet my bottom dollar you too were a weakling once!» her eyes bore straight into his ugly face.
«You what, you old moron? What did I ever ask you? I know all that…» it was obvious that he was used to people doing whatever he said. Hearing the insult he used, Lily lost her temper and blazed with anger, «Arghh, you son of a whore!» her slender yet strong arms grabbed his crumpled shirt with the fearlessness and bravery of a lioness, and she shouted: «You bag of shit! You’d better watch your words with me, unless you want my foot in your balls…»
The young man freed himself from her grip but was now as quiet as a mouse, he recoiled into a little ball and raised his eyes in fear to look at the gypsy, who suddenly spat: «I don’t give advice to sexually frustrated perverts like you! Get on your way to wherever you were going! Unless you want me to tell everyone you wear a thong, and love being whipped in your privates…»
Arthur watched him start backwards and disappear in an instant. He had watched this entire incident unfold as though in a trance. And Lily, giving him a wink, said softly: «They wear jeans with holes in them, and then are suddenly surprised that I know they wear a thong,» and a deep crimson of embarrassment rose through her dark skin. «Phew, I’m shattered. This is every day for me… And no one sympathises… But it doesn’t matter, at least I made good on my promise for a triumph of justice. But now I’m paying the price for all that with a headache. Never visit a fortune teller, we have so much pressure on us these days. Arthur, don’t be angry at me because I used the word «gay’. You know I was horsing around. But could you please help me, you’re a doctor, are you not?»
He felt her pulse and opened his suitcase, in which he always carried a small leather pouch containing a first aid kit of all the essentials for all possible situations. Having taken a tablet, and having been given a few minutes, a different pair of eyes looked at him already, calm and thankful… «You saved my life, Arthur! I can see that you’re a good man…»
«But you’ve only known me for 20 minutes.»
«I only need a few seconds, and I can see you would never hurt a fly…»
«And what else can you see?» he asked, now curious for some reason.
«You are an unfortunate man; I can see you have had much to endure…» and at that moment Arthur thought her eyes were looking right inside him.
She continued: «But life will go on… What else… You also love solitude, music, and watching TV lying on the sofa…» everything she said was the truth, and Arthur was astonished by her amazing insight.
«You are a true catholic,» she continued, «a strong believer. And God sees this. But when God values a person, the Devil sees opportunity in him too. Never forget that! And, finally, I’ll tell you something else. Today you will meet someone special.»
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