The Angel and the Devil

She didn’t answer my question, just regarded me with a frown.

‘Okay, forget it,’ I said with an unwanted tone of abruptness. I span around quickly to avoid her seeing the flush of crimson that was hitting my face, and I’d taken a quick couple of steps when her voice stopped me.

‘Daniel?’

I turned, sighing deeply and feeling an ache in the small of my back. The thought of cheap scotch was know in the forefront of my mind. ‘Yeah?’

‘How did you know that I was afraid?’

I pushed my hands deeper into my pockets and shivered inside of my jacket. The wind was stronger now, and once more slivers of rain had begun to bounce against my skin.

‘Just a feeling,’ I muttered. ‘I can be quite a perceptive guy, when I want.’

She smiled. ‘That’s a big word.’

‘I know one or two.’

She stepped forward and pulled my hand from my jacket, wrapping her slim fingers into mine. ‘Thankyou. I would like you to come upstairs with me, if you don’t mind.’ She pulled me towards her and I allowed myself to be led, and as we left the harshness of the sidewalk for the warmth of the lobby, the doorman gave us a small salute.

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

The interior of Virginie’s building was as stunning as the exterior. Subtle art and dark carpeting lined the corridor that led towards the fashionably retro service elevator, the gunmetal doors rattling musically as I closed them behind us. Virginie pushed the button for the top floor and we slowly began to ascend to the fifth level.

‘I have seen that man before, you know,’ she said, as she leant back against the wall while I watched one exquisite floor merge into another. ‘He’s taken pictures of me.’

‘Like the one I saw? That was taken outside of here.’

She nodded. ‘You cannot stop people from doing it, and I usually don’t mind. But he is very... intense.’ She looked at her shoes briefly, and then back to me. ‘I wonder what he does with them all.’ She didn’t say it as a question and I didn’t answer, although I had a pretty good idea.

The elevator rattled to a halt and we stepped out into a long hallway that was lit with lamps sitting on specially designed moldings in the wall. They looked antique, and were worlds away from the harsh striplighting that occasionally, but not always, illuminated the tiled passageway that led to my own festering apartment. A tiny thrill ran through me as Virginie once more took my hand and led me down the hallway, and we didn’t speak until we reached a large door that looked wooden but was probably too heavy to be anything other than metal.

‘Here we are,’ she said, pulling a small bunch of keys from her purse.

‘Okay. I guess this is where I say goodbye.’

Her hand hovered midway to the lock. ‘Why?’

‘I said I’d see you to the door, and I have.’

She inserted and turned the key and the door swung inwards easily and silently, revealing a entrance decorated with small black and white floor tiles. Virginie removed the key and turned to me.

‘I’d like you to come in,’ she said, ‘unless you have something else to attend to.’

I looked at her, beautiful and elegent as the surroundings we stood in. I glanced back through the door and imagined what the rest of her apartment would be like. What did I have waiting for me? A draught-filled box that dripped water through a hole near the bathroom wall and a cat that had sensibly given up on me a long time ago. I’d promised her a good meal when I left this morning, but she was more than used to me breaking my commitments. She was better off without me.

‘Nothing that can’t wait,’ I said, and followed her inside.

The small entrance led through into a huge living room, and I stayed near the door while Virginie turned on lamps that chased away the grey winter light that spilt through a large bank of windows. Two huge leather sofas faced each other and stood on a polished oak floor that was dotted here and there with fine rugs, and there were masses of plants trailing in the corners and across shelves. A large bookcase, slim and expensive looking stereo, view of the river; this was a room where a guy like me could have taken a vacation.

‘You can come into the room, if you like,’ said Virginie, as she threw her coat over the back of one of the sofas. ‘Would you like some tea?’

‘Tea?’

‘Yes. You know, hot water, leaves, milk if required?’ She smiled, and continued. ‘I suppose you’re strictly a coffee man, huh?’

‘Generally. Hate the taste, love the caffeine.’

‘I can imagine. Sit down and I’ll be back in a moment.’ She disappeared into the kitchen, leaving the door slightly ajar, and I heard the sound of water running.

I stood infront of the window, the rain lashing hard against the glass and virtually obscuring the street several floors below. In the distance to the left I could see the magnificent Notre Dame Cathedral on the bank of the Seine, and infront of me lining the other side of the street were more residential palaces of the kind that I now stood in. Huge, gorgeous, impenetrable. I glanced at my watch - five twenty-two, and already darkness was moving quickly into the city.

I could still hear Virginie pottering in the kitchen, and I crossed over to the bookcase, my eyes scanning across History, Philosophy, Satre, Elmore Leonard and Stephen King. It was then that I saw a long line of albums, perfectly racked, and I was leafing through these when she returned.

‘You collect Vinyl?’ I said, as she placed two huge mugs on a low wooden coffee-table.

‘A little. Most of them used to be belong to my Brother,’ she replied, joining me at the case. ‘Usually I buy discs like everyone else, but if I see something good then I’ll pick it up.’

I flipped the records. ‘Beatles, The Smiths. The Ramones. I’m impressed.’

She looked up at me, a smile still there but her eyes serious. ‘It’s good to hear you sound happy about something.’

‘I love music, sometimes it’s... what do you mean?’

She placed her hand gently on my cheek, her fingers crackling against my stubble as she brushed her thumb under my eye, the gentlest of touches on my skin. My eyes involuntarily closed for a brief moment, reacting to the sensation and warmth of her touch, a feeling I wasn’t used to from anyone. When I opened them she was still looking at me closely.

‘I mean, many times I’ve seen you today you’ve looked... haunted.’

I didn’t answer, couldn’t answer. It was true of course. I was haunted, by moments from my past and possibly by what I expected to happen in the future. But now, at this instant, I felt almost content. Virginie’s hand slipped away from my face.

‘Come and sit, the tea’s hot and good.’

‘I shouldn’t really,’ I said. ‘My clothes are still damp from the rain.’

She touched my jacket and made a face. ‘Why didn’t you say before, I could have dried them for you.’

‘I’ll be home soon.’

She shook her head. ‘This what we’re going to do. You can take a shower, and while you’re warming up I’ll run these things through the clothes drier.’ She was already pulling my jacket off as she spoke, and I started to laugh.

‘You’re very forceful.’

She grinned. ‘I’m a woman, it’s what we do. No arguments.’ She hung my jacket on the back of a chair and grabbed me by the hand, led me across the room and through another door next to the kitchen. Beyond was her bedroom, the walls painted a deep red and dominated by a huge pine bed strewn with a white duvet and enormous pillows. The light was dim, and I could smell incense burning, the odor instantly calming. She opened another door to a connecting bathroom and pulled me inside. Deep blue tiles, driftwood sculptures and a fantastic collection of black and whites lining the walls depicting the seashore. In the middle of the room, slightly raised, was a traditional cast-iron bath, the brass fittings glittering with cleanliness. Away in the far corner next to a worn but insanely comfortable looking armchair was the shower cubicle. I turned to Virginie.

‘You’ve got a beautiful home,’ I said simply.

‘Well, I spend a lot of time here when I can,’ she replied, and ran her hand across the dark tiles. ‘I like bold colours.’

‘I can tell.’

She indicated to some chrome shelving behind the door. ‘There are towels here, and if you leave your clothes in the bedroom I’ll get them dry, okay?’

She still held my hand, and squeezed it gently before letting go, and I watched her leave the bathroom and tread lightly across the bedroom floor, her jeans tight against her bottom and her ankles pale flashes against the wood, before vanishing into the living room.

I stooped and pulled off my boots and placed them against the wall, and then quickly stripped off my clothes. My skin grew cold as the damp material was pulled free and I shivered, despite the warmth coming from the radiator in the bedroom. When I was naked I piled the clothing as neatly as I could and left them on the floor, tucking my shorts between my shirt and jeans and feeling a slight twinge of embarrassment knowing that Virginie was about to see my underwear.

In my own apartment the bathroom was roughly the size of a decent closet, with an ever-increasing damp patch spreading along the wall and a toilet that took an effort to flush. As I took one of the soft, warm towels from the shelf and crossed to the shower I wondered just how much money was needed to be able to laze around in a bathroom like this. As a kid I dreamt of places like this one, but these days I barely slept without an alcohol knockout.

I hung the towel within reach of the cubicle and stepped inside, twisting the dial and being rewarded with am instant torrent of blissfully hot water. For the next couple of minutes I stood solidly beneath the spray, eyes tightly closed, and let the heat penetrate through my skin and warm aching muscles and bones. Safely cocooned inside a canopy of steam, I could have very easily fallen asleep, and might well have done so if I hadn’t heard the bathroom door open.

I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t amused myself with a moment’s fantasy about Virginie joining me under the water. After the day I’d spent in her company I knew how attractive I found her, and not just on a physical basis, although she was truly one of the most beautiful women I’d ever encountered. The way her shoulders shook when she laughed, how she walked, almost floated across the floor, the way her eyes shone against the light and almost seemed to burn with life, these were all things I longed to see again. And the way she spoke to me, concerned with how I was, almost made me ache for her, made me feel like a teenager struck down with his first crush. I could imagine the cubicle door opening slowly and her standing naked before me, giving me a moment to gaze at her smooth body before the shower coated her skin in a wet sheen as she wrapped her arms around my neck. Soft lips on mine, nipples against my chest, her thigh between my legs.

And for one tiny moment as I heard the door open I thought that the fantasy was to become reality, and a myriad of thoughts ran through my head, some good, some terrifying.

‘Daniel?’ Through the heavily frosted glass I could just see her, almost indistinguishable. I moved back against the tiled wall away from the door as I realized she would also be able to my nakedness, blurred or not.

‘Yeah?’ I had to raise my voice slightly over the noise of the falling spray.

‘You forgot your tea. I’ll leave it by the door for you.’

Of course, that was all it would be. ‘Thankyou.’

‘Everything okay?’

‘It’s fine,’ I said trying to keep the disappointment from my voice and almost succeeding. ‘I won’t be long.’

I heard the door close and when I knew I was alone again I let out a huge breath, sadness and relief seemingly escaping me all at once. Suddenly I wanted to be free of the shower as fast as possible, and I found shampoo and washed my hair quickly before cleaning myself all over with a vanilla smelling body wash that stood on a small shelf in the cubicle. I allowed myself ten more seconds under the water, then snapped the dial closed and stepped out onto the tiles, the water gurgling into the drain behind me. I toweled off lightly and then wrapped the towel tightly around my waist and walked over to the mirror that rose proudly from a marble counter.

What a fool. Why would a woman like Virginie show any interest in a guy like me, a guy whose hair was too long, who had sunken eyes that struggled to show anything other than contempt, whose idea of dress sense was picking up whatever lay on the floor from the night before and whose idea of sophistication was Chinese food from a plate instead of the carton?

A guy who needed a drink so badly his hand were already starting to shake.

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

After I’d ran my fingers through my hair in some vague approximation of style I returned to the bedroom. The stick of incense had burned low but the smell was still there, heavy and calming. It was almost fully dark now, and I found a lamp near the bed and switched it on, the room filling with a red glow where the light bounced off the walls. My clothes were gone, and I could hear a faint humming which I assumed was the clothes drier working in another part of the apartment. I’d bought the mug of tea with me from the bathroom and I now sipped it while perched on the edge of the bed, the flavor hot and sweet, and wondered where Virginie was.

Music started in the living room, low enough so that I couldn’t identify who it was. I went to the door and opened it a fraction, my fingers curling around the edge as I peeked through

She was standing before the window with her arms folded and her head almost touching the glass. Her hair was now tied loosely behind her and she’d changed into a red robe that shimmered around her and brushed against the floor. In the lamplight of the room her body looked as if it might be bathed in blood. She redefined the definition of spectacular. She looked round and saw me.

‘Hey. You alright?’

I nodded. ‘My clothes?’

‘They’ll be dry soon, a few minutes,’ she said. ‘How was the tea?’

I stayed leaning against the door and smiled. ‘Good, actually. You might have a convert here.’

She returned my smile and turned her eyes back to the window. ‘Come and look at the city, Daniel, it’s so beautiful.’

‘Well, I’m not really dressed for it,’ I replied, my heart knocking against my chest. Virginie looked back towards me for a moment, then moved around the room and extinguished the two burning lamps. The robe slid against her body like the tide rolling into a beach, and as she walked I saw there were small dragons stitched into the cloth. After the lamps were dead the only light was from two candles that flickered high on a shelf and the city light that bathed the floor near the window.

‘Now if you want to come in, I can hardly see you,’ she said quietly.

I looked down at myself, made sure that the towel was covering everything it should be, took a deep breath and pushed the door open. I saw Virginie glance at my body for a moment, at my bare torso above the towel and my calves beneath it, and then she looked through the glass once more. I crossed slowly towards her, the music from the stereo an almost hypnotic trance of guitar and mellow beats. Sounded like Stereolab, but I couldn’t swear to it.

The view from the window was indeed more spectacular by night than day. Notre Dame was now brilliantly lit, and a glittering carpet of lights swept East away from the cathedral until they reached the stunning peak of the Eiffel Tower. Boats cruised the river, their lights creating patterns on the black water, and below us the road remained quiet. Expensive districts were afforded the luxury of access-only streets, and as such there was no noise coming through the windows of Virginie’s apartment, a stark contrast to my own horn-drenched area. The buildings before us still remained virtually in darkness, only random windows here and there were lit, and the top floor opposite of where we stood was nothing but shadow. The rain had now finally stopped, and far on the horizon I could see a yellow moon straining against the bank of clouds. Virginie was right; it was beautiful, and I told her so. She nodded.

‘I love this city,’ she whispered. ‘Some nights I just play music and watch it for hours, imagining what everyone is doing, who they are seeing.’

‘I wish I could have nights like that,’ I replied.

She looked up at me. ‘Why can’t you?’

‘I don’t really know how to relax,’ I said, and leant forward until my forehead was touching the cool glass. ‘I’ve forgotten how to enjoy simple things.’

‘You said you loved music. What’s more simple than that?’

My breath was fogging on the glass infront of me. ‘Music’s always there, I don’t have to make an effort with it,’ I replied, and then sighed, making more fog. ‘I mean looking at a view and seeing the beauty in it, or just enjoying the thrill of watching the world go by.’ I pulled away from the window and wiped the cloud with my hand before turning to face her. ‘Or just talking to someone, spending some time with them.’

‘You’re doing fine at the moment,’ said Virginie, resting a hand on my bare forearm, her face a dim glow with the city light.

I nodded. ‘I know, but the only reason I’m here is through your doing. I’d never have suggested it.’ I paused, thought about what I was going to say, and decided to say it anyway. ‘Even though I would have wanted to.’

She smiled, and squeezed my arm gently. ‘I got the impression you wanted to get away as fast as possible.

‘No. It just that... Just that I spend so much time alone it becomes almost natural.’

‘Do you mean you feel alone or you are alone.’

Her eyes were questioning and seemingly filled with care, so beautiful that I was forced to break our gaze and stare at my feet before I answered. ‘Both. I’m totally alone.’

I have a tattoo on my left bicep, a crude set of marks that used to mean so much but these days are nothing more than a constant reminder of who I used to be. Virginie now touched the tattoo, brushing her index finger across it, and then pressed herself against me. I almost stepped back with surprise as she did so, before I felt the smooth silk of her robe against my naked chest and her head fall onto my shoulder. Without thinking I stiffened, felt my muscles clench, and it was only when her hands ran up over my shoulder blades and she gripped me tightly that I realized I was trembling. I lowered my face to her sweet-smelling hair and tentatively put my arms around her, my hands meeting behind her back and encountering the subtle stitching of the dragons.

‘Why are you so afraid, Daniel?’ Her voice was muffled against me

I laughed softly, nervously. ‘I’m not.’

‘Then why are you shaking?’

I didn’t answer, just pulled her into me and squeezed my eyes shut. Her breath was rhythmical against my skin, warm and reassuring, and her hands stroked the top of my shoulders gently. Slowly I felt myself start to become calm, and I concentrated on the warmth of her body, her touch, and the music that quietly filled the room.

How long we stayed like that I can’t say, but the trance I’d almost seemed to settle into was roused when I felt her hand slide down over the ridges of my spine and stop when she met the scar tissue that rested there. For a moment her fingers moved over the network of raised flesh, and she stopped when she felt me tense again.

‘How did this happen,’ she said, still holding me tightly.

‘It was a long time ago,’ I said. ‘Another world.’

I desperately hoped she wouldn’t ask further questions; I’d been more honest with Virginie than I had with myself or anyone else for a long time. To my relief she remained silent, but her hand stayed low on my back, away from the scarring but caressing above the towel. She moved her head slightly, causing her hair to tickle lightly against my chest, and as she did so I felt the first stirrings of an erection against the damp towel, and I started to pull away.