The Call Girl and the Businessman Ch. 05

"You must believe me, or else I must be imagining things, but I'm pretty sure I am not." He exclaimed.

He could barely rein in his enthusiasm now. I did believe him, of course.

"I do believe you, Mr. Boardmann." I said.

"The two wishes I made last night with the moon as our witness. Do you remember, with your moonstone?" He asked.

"Yes, I do remember." I said.

How could I not?

"One wish came true." He said, looking at me deep in the eyes.

I was pulled into the depths of his eyes; its vivacity was intoxicating me.

"One wish came true?" I asked, repeating his prior words.

I wondered what his second wish was. I had assumed that he made the same wish twice.

"It's hard to believe, I know. It's like a guardian angel had been sent from the Heavens to take care of my arduous earthly matters." He said.

"You mean...?" I said, not really knowing what to say because I knew precisely what he meant.

It was more difficult to feign ignorance than the possession of knowledge.

"Do not ever think that I've lost my mind, Lila, or think that I've forgotten my medication." He said.

I looked at him in astonishment. I had never looked at it from that angle. Despite all the hours I had spent thinking about how the scenario could play out, I had never thought objectively enough. I was no innocent bystander. I could not see the woods for the trees anymore. I had never felt so self-centred before. I was thinking only of absolving myself of any trace of complicity. I shivered in cold sweat- this was not who I wanted to be.

In the meantime, Mr. Boardmann scrutinized me; hanging on in suspense for my answer. When I came to my senses again, I belatedly realized that his expression had changed dramatically. He looked agitated and restless. He thought that he knew my answer to his statement, or rather, his plea that I saw sanity in him.

He could wait no longer in silence. He made a sudden forceful grasp at both my shoulders with his strong hands; athletic as they already were.

I was caught off guard when in a swift move, he had me looking straight at him whilst he clenched my shoulders down forcefully. My movement was thereby restricted and my voice was unconsciously stifled by fear, as if it were all happening again. Startled, I gave out a soft cry of protest but he did not seem to hear because he looked like he was somewhere else.

Still, in my rational mind, I knew that he did not mean anything else other than his need for my answer. Yet my body reacted otherwise. Adrenaline surged into me as I anticipated the worst of pain. I was unwittingly brought back to a time long ago when this gesture meant just that. It had occurred after the bad man had clenched my shoulders down the same way that Mr. Boardmann was doing right now. The bad man had shoved me onto the ground, and had hurt me repeatedly. The pain was too much to bear for a ten year old; the more I had cried to beg him to stop, the more he had laughed; the more he had continued. Thankfully I lost consciousness and woke up much later. The last thing I remembered was the bad man's menacing laugh and the scorn he had in his eyes.

My body was forever scarred with its cruel infliction. Till today I had slept alone, sodden in olive oil every night in futile attempts to rid the scars on my back. I was rendered barely alive by the abuse I had endured. I had come a long way since then.

Now my eyes widened in fear as I looked at Mr. Boardmann. In his, a strange flame blazed. My lips parted to say something to the effect of him letting go of me but the words came out muffled and incoherent.

By some epiphany, he was brought to my plight and he was made aware of the transcending fear in my eyes. Cursing obscenities at himself then, he released his iron grip on my shoulders. Far from intending to, he pushed me away from him with his hands, not realizing the extent of the strength which consumed him. I stumbled backwards, causing my already paralyzed knees to buckle under me.

It happened so quickly yet ironically I could see myself falling down at a ludicrous angle onto the marble floor. It was like I was going down in slow motion. I was aware of what was happening but I was powerless to break my fall. I mentally braced myself for impact on the floor.

I heard him swear then in his native Dutch or German. I could not tell which language it was. My thoughts were everywhere and nowhere; my body momentarily stunned. I felt, rather than saw his arms making a grab for me as I fell, and then all of a sudden, he scooped me into his arms, cradling me like a fragile thing. I felt the brute yet comforting strength of his arms. I gasped as I felt my entire body convulse rigidly from the motions I felt from the near fall. His hands, just moments ago savage, had now become my safe haven. This time I felt nothing. Looking up, I saw him studying me, looking terrified himself. For what seemed to be the longest moment of time, our eyes locked.

"Oh God, what have I done?" He cried out.

His voice was full of agony. I could not explain just yet. I feared my voice had not regained its composure. To speak would have made the situation worse than it already was.

"Lila, speak." He said, looking all distressed over me.

I was still cocooned in his arms, my body as limp as a rag. I tried to steady myself, I tried to stand up.

"I'm alright." I said, my voice hoarse.

I sounded like I had lost my voice. I tried to get a grip of my surroundings and ascertain that nothing of that sort had happened, reminiscent of the bad man. The past was far, far away.

"I was hurting and scaring you all over again." He said, staring at me and over me, like something was lurking behind me.

Seeing that I was making feeble attempts at getting my knee to straighten up, he put his arms around my waist to offer support. I managed to finally stand upright and detach myself of his body which I had been unceremoniously leaning on to. He looked like he also wanted to detach himself from me, but was finding it increasingly difficult to do so. As with the manifestation of his unusual temperament, he knocked himself in the head with his fists. All that raw energy was simply too much for him to handle. He needed an outlet for this excessiveness.

"Stop it, Mr. Boardmann, please." I said, trying to speak out for him and for myself.

He paused midway, turning to look at me. From the pitch of his eyes, fiery lights had sparked erratically, and he looked dangerous. But I was not afraid, not of him, but for him.

"Never ever hurt yourself again." I said, my voice was breaking up a little.

I had barely regained control of my voice when he started to make me feel sad. I detested violence; any show of force would suffice as violence sooner or later. Why must he hit himself like that?

"I have behaved callously towards you. I cannot seem to stop doing that. Every time I do something which hurts you. Every time! Don't you see that?" He cried.

I was taken aback by virtue of the pain in his voice. The pain which I had also felt. We were kindred souls in pain. Before I could speak in defence of him, he spoke.

"I am still a brute." He said harshly.

He was angry at himself. He faced me now with a troubled, yet worried countenance.

"Stay away from me. Just go, Lila." He said.

"What?" I said, barely a whisper.

I stood there like the stoic marble arch at the lobby of the penthouse suite. I would not move now. Was I even trying to? I was not sure myself.

"Don't come back. Whatever money I've paid in advance for you; it's yours." He said, in a clear, deadpan voice.

He would not look at me. His gaze was out to the balcony now; towards that ridiculous precision of a lighted speck in the horizon which he had called his office.

"Are you sure?" I asked, in a barely audible voice.

"Yes. What is money anyway?" He said, still concentrating on that speck of light twenty kilometres away.

It was far from what I meant. A gradual pang of uncertainty seeped into me; never had I felt more uncertain about making a decision in my life. But never had I felt more painfully alive due to this uncertainty of the path yet to be taken.

"What are you waiting for? Take your leave." He said, agitation arising anew in his voice.

I took the few steps towards the door, wishing that the door was much further away. It was somewhat eerie that now the only sound in the suite was the hard clack of my heels on the marble floor. My hands clung on to the cold, gold-plated doorknob. Logically, I should wring it hard and never look back. That was the easiest thing I could do to save myself from all this complexity.

But my mind was overtaken by a spirit from within me; that which arose from the crypts of my heart. It had been in slumber until now.

"Are you sure you want me to leave?" I asked, trying not to let my voice break more than it already had.

He did not answer. I looked at his silhouette; his back was still facing me. Why would he not turn to look at me?

"Why stay with a troubled man? You had three horrendous nights with me. Don't you ever learn?" He asked, with acidity in his voice.

He was chasing me away. He did not want me anymore. He wanted me to leave. I should leave. Just turn the doorknob, and it is all over.

I stood there unsure of myself and unsure of him. The only thing I was sure of was the widening barrier between us, and the doorknob became this symbolic last stance. It was my decision to make; for both our sakes.

I was an ardent believer of a cause I knew was true. It was the ends which justified the cause, not the journey itself. Bumpy and long-winded as the roads may be, he would get there. I would see him through the whole journey. It did not matter how we got there and what pretences I had played out. I did not want to leave just yet.

"Do you not like me anymore?" I asked stupidly, for want of words.

It was not quite what I wanted to say; from my spirit to his; but constructing my spirit out into words had spectacularly failed me.

Slowly he turned towards me; and with a pained look, his lips parted. Where were the words? I did not hear them for he did not utter them. Yet by virtue of my very patience, he did say something finally.

"I had meant what I said. I did rather like you, but now..." He said softly.

His voice was hoarse. He made no effort to continue. Those words struck my heart like multiple daggers. However I should have been relieved. Our relationship had been a simple business transaction. There were no expectations of any sort, whatsoever.

"You don't have to like me. I just want to stay with you, Mr. Boardmann." I said, against my better judgment.

My spirit, long in slumber in the crypts of my heart, was making a mistake, but I cannot override it.

"After everything you've experienced with me, why on earth would you want to do that?" He asked, exasperatedly.

It was like he could not get rid of a pest flying about in his room.

"It's the right thing to do." I said.

It was the truth, pure and simple.

He sighed and he looked drawn.

"You don't know what you're getting into. I don't trust myself." He said.

"Don't go there, Mr. Boardmann. I have also known you to be kind, and determined, and ..." I said.

He had beckoned me towards him while he moved to the settee so that we could finally be seated, side by side.

"Then may God bless you for being such a sacrificial lamb." He said, not willing to hear about his other qualities.

Feelings of concern drastically rose within me, arching out towards him. I had to tell him that I caused my own misery just now, taking us both into the plunge.

"But you don't understand. What happened just now was not your fault. It was entirely my undoing. I do not like being held like that, when both your hands are forcefully pressing me down." I said.

His eyes widened and he looked like indeed he did not understand.

"I have bad memories about that. I panicked. I was reminded of..." I said.

But it was difficult to continue as I had never spoken about it openly before to anyone.

"The pain." I said finally, strangely feeling a gush of relief overflowing through me.

I was unashamedly honest with him. He must know that it was not his fault. It was I who acted irrationally this time, prompting this unravelling of chaotic emotions on both our parts.

"The pain." He repeated.

He looked at me with pain in his eyes, but also with compassion.

"Yes. It has nothing to do with you. I got myself worked up." I said.

"Lila..." He said, enunciating my name with such tenderness.

In acknowledgment, I held his hands in mine, squeezed his fingers tight.

"What happened to you?" He asked.

I looked at him with all my spirit reaching out towards him. Although I had so many things inside of me which I could tell him, I did not wish to. Why listen to the past when we were supposed to move forward?

"It was an unfortunate incident. The memory stayed, getting worse each time because I have a wild imagination." I said.

I had sugar-coated the darkest period of my life again. I was aware of his heightened state. I did not wish for him to feel any more pain for me. I should not stray from my main goal.

Despite my best efforts to project my past in an honest but mild manner, he slammed his other fist; the one which was not being held by mine, into the coffee table, causing a loud, sickening thump to reverberate through the room. I jolted from my seat. The glasses, filled to the rim, shook upright and came down with a shatter. Some water spilled over to the table.

"Stop this, Mr. Boardmann. Promise me this." I cried in shock at what I perceived to be a violent act of self-injury.

I took his grieved hand into my very own and soothed the nasty bruise formed by caressing over it repeatedly with my fingers. I tried to get a steady hold on my faculties, but my fingers would do no sort. They were trembling erratically.

He, in turn, was not calm. I feared what he may do to himself again if unchecked. I had to do more.

"What kind of assault?" He asked, looking straight into me

He barely noticed the ugly bruise on his hand. He was however aware that I was stroking his hand because I felt his hand tremble when I touched him. Or perhaps it was my own hands which I felt, trembling as they already were?

He was like a clairvoyant; guessing in part what could have taken place. He looked kind and he looked concerned, despite his agitation. I felt a fuzziness in my chest but at the same time, I was aware that he was highly susceptible to any sort of emotion.

"I was spared most of the pain, Mr. Boardmann. I passed out early on in the assault." I said.

One good thing about physical pain was that once it got too much to bear, the whole being would shut down. Emotional pain however, lingers on like the plague, only unseen, making it impossible to purge. I did not want him to associate me with pain. In truth, it was the pain which made me who I was today. Yet it was not how I would like to be seen by his very eyes. I had gone low enough, and there was no need to decapitate my qualities further.

The scars I had denoted a time of sin. I was living among sin. It was a Godless world.

"I'll tell you another time." I said.

"How stubborn you are!" He cried out, part in exasperation and part in emotional turmoil.

His cry made me latch on to his hands tighter than before. I wanted him to calm down but I did not know what to say. With him, everything was unchartered territory.

His eyes pierced mine. The grey wolf was extremely alert but also cautious enough of not treading too deep into my vortex of emotions.

"Ignorance is bliss. I want to forget." I said, trying to make him feel that I was honest enough with him, and I was no longer suffering the way I had been.

"Very well, Lila, but you do owe me an explanation." He said then.

I looked into his eyes and I knew he would hear it sooner or later.

"I promise to tell you if you'll promise me that you'll never hurt yourself again." I said.

He looked into my eyes, deliberating on that thought.

"I promise you I'll never hurt myself again, Lila." He said.

His voice was husky and had a deep emotional lilt. I looked then into the depths of grey wolf's lair, and I could see that he meant what he said.

"I will keep to my end of the promise." I said, bending my head down.

"Oh, you strange and mysterious creature! I know that resolute yet unsuspecting gaze in your eyes. You won't tell me anything no matter what I do to force it out from you, not now at least." He said, dejectedly.

"That's true, Mr. Boardmann. Please do not waste your efforts." I said.

It sounded much more direct than I had intended it to.

"Humph. You little minx." He said.

There was much displeasure in his voice, but I thought there were also traces of stupefaction. Then, out of the blue, he actually smiled.

"Humph..." I said, imitating him.

I was not sure how to how to continue. His fingers wiggled under my grasp, causing me to realize that I was still pinning down his hands.

"You overbearing ..." I said.

For once, I was not sure what the purpose of these words were. Was I simply imitating him or was I irritated with him? It must have been the boomerang effect.

"I'm waiting, Lila." He said, with a smug smile.

He was clearly enjoying at ease now.

"Devil!" I said.

The word spoke itself out. Matthias was a biblical name, yes, but this Matthias was no saint. I did not mean it in a bad way. I just thought of something which was the opposite of Saint Matthew.

Apprehensive, I did not dare to raise my eyes to look at him.

But Mr. Boardmann had laughed his heart out.

"I can live with that." He said.

As I looked up, he looked down to catch my gaze. He smiled kindly at me.

"Now, my dear Lila, whilst I find your grasp on both my hands extremely soothing, will you be so kind as to release them?" He asked.

As if I were on fire, my hands sprang away from his. I felt embarrassed, more so when the look in his eyes told me that he enjoyed provoking me.

"Why are your hands always so cold? Do you need mine to warm them up?" He asked, with an unbashful grin on his face.

Now, he really went too far! My motives were noble. I was trying to protect him from ramming like a bull into the table. His feelings had zig-zagged from one to the next. However this time I was certainly responsible for it.

"I enjoy being cold." I said, indignantly.

Was it my spirit which was not willing to say that he had eased his way into my heart considerably? I would not tell him that I had plenty of soft spots when it came to navigating his eccentricities. I would do the exact opposite. I did not joke. I did not poke fun at other people's expense.

"No doubt you do. Your moonstone rightfully proved that, Madam." He said, half seriously and half playfully.

I looked at him, simply flabbergasted. He always had the last word. He looked at me with eyes which were trying to anticipate my thoughts.

"I am but a hot-blooded man. You, strange and mysterious creature- I'll call you the Ice Maiden. You can never be further away from me than you already are." He said.

He reached out to grasp both my hands in his large, broad palms. I shivered a little with the warmth encompassing me now that I was aware of it. Just now, I had thought of nothing else but his state of mind when I pinned down his hands.

I thought about who we were in person and our social standing in society. We were never meant to be together.

"Perhaps we should bridge the distance between us to a neutral room temperature where we can both thrive independently." He said, winking at me.

"Oh..." I said, not contemplating that he meant it this way.