Into the Lion's Den (44 page)

“It's for your best. Talking or writing with him could be counterproductive for you. In a week you made
many progresses and I don't want them ruined by Repin's manipulations.”

“He doesn't manipulate me! He's worried about me and I am about him! He wants to divorce his wife! I
don't want to be in the middle if he looses his children!”

“Is it because of that or because you don't want to commit yourself into a more serious relationship with
him? If he's free, he will take you as his own. I can see that he really wants you all for himself. I understand the man.”

“No! It's not like that! I was living with him before in London. I just didn't know that he had a wife and
children.”

“Small detail to leave out of the picture in a “serious and committed relationship” like what he wants
now,” Lintorff mocked me. “I heard him declaring his love for you, but you didn't say anything more than I miss your
children, Guntram. You're quite disappointing as a lover. Normally they tell much more.”

I had to refrain myself to shout “fuck you!” and only turned my back on him. I didn't want to participate
in whichever mental game he had organized now. I was too tired and sad for it.

“Do you love him?”

“None of your business, sir.”

“True. In a way I pity Repin. I was in that place once with someone very similar to you. At least, you're
not abusing or lying to him and for that he should consider himself very fortunate.”

“If this person didn't love you, why did you stay?”

“Because I didn't realise that he despised me till the end when he went against me and everything I had.

Betrayal is something you don't overcome easily. It's easier to recover from heartbreak than to admit it.” He said very
seriously and looking into my eyes. “Love is chaotic and destructive; you pay a very high price for a few moments of
happiness and live the rest of your life remembering those fleeting instances.”

“It's not like that. Even we had many obstacles, I still appreciate Constantin with all my heart. I worry
that he might lose all what he holds dear.”

“You never loved him Guntram. You liked him, wanted him and felt good around him. Nothing else. If
you would have loved him, you would have never forgiven him his betrayal because hiding a murderous wife is
irresponsible and only served his purposes of having you no matter the costs, proving that he's only infatuated with
you and not in love. Would you have lived with him if you would have learnt in advance about her?”

“I don't know. In theory no, but we change our minds with time,” I answered, feeling more and more
nervous. I had thought in those lines many times in the past, but I forgave Constantin because I knew he truly loved
me and I only wanted the best for him after all what he had done for me. All right, I also felt guilty because I couldn't
return the same feelings.

“If you love a person, his or her well-being comes before anything. You live, breathe and see for that
person, Guntram. You want the best for him and sacrificing your own desires is a small price to pay for his happiness.

You live literally from his words, smiles, small gestures, counting the hours to be with him. You're forthcoming and
don't toy around with his feelings no matter how unpleasant it could be to admit your own faults in front of him. If the
person truly loves you back, he will accept them and love you more for them.”

I was speechless. I didn't know what to say.

“What you and Repin had was a convenience relationship. Nothing wrong with it as long as both
partners don't hurt each other, but it’s not love. You embodied all what Repin ever desired and he was the paternal
figure you so desperately seek in every man.”

“If the person you loved hurt you so much, then you also had no love at all,” I retorted, willing to hurt
him as he had hurt me. I miss my father but I never had incestuous thoughts about him!”

“I realise now. I loved, but I was not loved back. Perhaps removing you from Repin's company is
beneficial for him too,” he mused. “Guntram people have sex and enjoy it, but it doesn't mean they love each other.

Someone should have told you this many years ago.”

I only turned my gaze toward the window and looked at the garden bathed in the spring sun. He
remained there also lost in his memories and thoughts.

Chapter 17
Guntram de Lisle's Diary

Contrary to my original impression, this Rudolf Ostermann is not as bad as my previous teacher. He has
a horrible temper, that's for sure. He looked for a long time all what I've done in the previous week and said “mostly
rubbish, don't waste paper if you don't know what you're trying to achieve. The ones I saw from your time in England
are much better. Have a little respect for the trees!”

According to him, I can draw “reasonably well,” but I have no idea of what I want to do. “Chaotic and
childish. The only way you start to organize yourself is if I give you an object to copy and work with. Here, familiarise
yourself with this and don't loaf around!” I got a horrible Chinese “greeting cat”. The blasted thing moves its right
paw permanently! Way to achieve perpetual movement! Why did they have to paint it in golden with red and blue? It's
simply hideous.

At least he's not telling me to “leave all Academics behind and look for new ways to express yourself,”

By the end of the day,—nine to six, with one break for lunch with Alexei in a nearby restaurant and the guy
specifically ordered no salt at all in my food. Bastard!—he had destroyed over sixteen studies on the thing and I
wanted to skin him alive, the present ladies preventing me from taking justice into my hands. His verdict? “You're not
properly capturing the object's essence. Forget it's a Modern toy and look for its intrinsic harmony.”

The next lesson was the same and after he destroyed view number seven in the morning, I had enough
and decided that if he wanted classicism for that wretched thing, he would have it. I used the background of
Leonardo's Philosophy class and instead of Socrates and Aristotle; I put two of the nasty cats, greeting each other, all
in pencil.

When I was expecting his explosion, he only carefully inspected the drawing for a long time. “Perhaps, I
could still make something good out of you, young man. Now your drawing starts to reflect partly you. We will start to
work with oil colours. A classical portrait of your feline friend.” I swear he enjoyed the last sentence!

At least, he left me alone today as he had to travel to Paris for some appraisals. He makes his money as
curator-commissar, writing Art books and making the life of young artists miserable. Fortunately, he's not quoting
Koons or Warhol every two minutes like the other pest.

Am I allowed “to loaf” NO, this morning Friederich gave me several of the text books for Architectural
History and a “they arrived yesterday morning, when you were with Pater Bruno. The Duke wants that you start to
read and study them. There are some recommended assignments included. Do them and Meister Ostermann will read
them before you send them to the Assistant Teacher.”

Lintorff was serious about making me study and taking the tests! The whole thing is here. I'm not
surprised he's an old spinster with no children around. The poor dears will run to the judge the minute they can
speak. Anyway, it's better reading or studying than coping with him. At least, it keeps my mind busy.

'The only good thing about this new position is that I can check on Jean Jacques. The new boy in the kitchen is exactly what he likes and he's willing to do everything the chef tells him to do.' Alexei Gregorevich Antonov mused for the tenth time during the week he had been ordered to look after “Repin's favourite toy,” as Guntram was called by the Duke. He was partly torn between his duty as “jailer”, 'and his conditions are much better than those in Afghanistan, but it's the same', half confident “try to elicit much as you can from him, Antonov; he probably knows much more than we think. Keep him away from my papers too; and nurse, “he suffers from hypertrophic cardiomyopathy and had already one heart attack, courtesy of Olga Fedorovna Repin. He had it almost as bad as you when you had your disagreement with Repin.”

'No, he had it much worse than I. I was trained for this and knew how to evade the pain or neutralize the effects. I was physically broken, not mentally like he is. I never thought about suicide; revenge, yes, and still do.”

The Russian bodyguard continued to eat his trout, sitting with Friederich and Guntram, also having lunch at the former guard's hall.

“How's everything going, Guntram? Do you need something more for your studies?”

“No, thank you, Friederich,” Guntram answered very quietly.

“His Excellency suggests that you start to read and summarize the chapters. The examination dates are due in June. Will it be sufficient time for you?”

“I think so, but I will have to study instead of painting,” Guntram suggested, hoping to be excused from the lessons with the old teacher.

“I will speak with Pater Bruno to keep your visits to once per week; on Saturday mornings, as his Excellency is also busy at that time.

“I do like going there!” Guntram protested feebly but the butler didn't flinch at all.

“My child, you know it's for the best. Once you're rid of the tests you can return for longer periods. In July, for example.”

“I don't want to stay here!”

“Guntram, your health does not allow you to do much more. You've heard the doctor. Last week you were two days indisposed. You can study in the mornings, paint in the afternoons and go to Meister Ostermann's studio three times per week. Perhaps, Mr. Antonov would like to take you to Zurich to see the city or its Museums,”

Friederich spoke with a certainty that left no place for rebellion.

'Poor boy, he doesn't even look like he could fight with a fly. Repin really broke him. I wonder how he could last so long in his clutches. I was never living with him, only brief meetings for three years and that was enough to make Olga explode. I'm sure she planted that information against me. I'll ask Goran to be a part of the team. The Duke can babysit Guntram for a few days or Holgersen can do it too. I would love to settle part of the score with that witch. I don't believe for a minute that she's out like Oblomov told me. She's only bidding her time to finish off Repin.

The boy was just a mild blow to him. The Duke is right with his decision. If she comes up, it would be chaos for all of us while the others try to depose her.'

“Guntram, do you want to come with me to
Altstadt
today? I can show it to you,” Alexei asked, picking up the cue from Friederich.

“No, Mr. Antonov. I prefer to organise my things here.”

“It's Friday, boy! Most teenagers disappear from five onwards!”

“I'm almost twenty-two years old, Mr. Antonov. I was never very popular. I used to make extra hours in the coffee shop I was working on Fridays or Saturdays.”

“Then, I'll take you to the cinema. You choose, but please, nothing from Star Wars.”

“Excuse me, but I don't like to be around much people.”

“All right, I'll choose for you. It's DreamWorks Factory time!”

“I don't speak German at all!”

“It's in English with subtitles. Mr. Elsässer, could you inform his Excellency that I will be back with Guntram around 10 p.m.?”

“Certainly, Mr. Antonov. Guntram, don't pout; it's very unbecoming and childish.”

“Will you not have troubles with the Duke, Mr. Antonov? I think he expects me for dinner,” Guntram tried to talk Alexei out of his idea with a veiled threat, invoking Lintorff. He was very apprehensive as a cinema meant hundreds of people, a shopping mall perhaps, lights, share the space with them.

“He will not mind, and don't expect he shows at home. Fridays is major hunting day if he's in Zurich.

We'll get a hot tea for you before we drive away,” the Russian said with a big plastered smile.

“I don't want a tea!”

“Yes, you do Guntram! Now, move to the kitchen and ask for your tea.”

“Why?”

“As a personal favour? Do one for me, and I'll do another for you. One hand washes the other, as they say.”

“If you want a tea, why don't you ask it for yourself? The Duke can't deny you that.”

“You can be very dense when you want, can't you?” Alexei huffed taking Guntram by the arm and steering him toward the stairs leading to the service area. One final push sent Guntram inside the ample industrial kitchen where the chef, Jean Jacques, was supervising Saturday's dinner. “Guntram doesn't dare to ask for something, Jean Jacques.” Alexei sauntered to the more than hostile looking small man.

“Really? What is that you want? I'm working, Antonov,” he said with a belligerent tone as he was getting sick of his boyfriend's jealousy, coming to check what he was doing in his own kitchen, as if he were an amateur, not a three Michelin Stars Winner and author of many books. 'Does he think that I'm still jumping on everyone that comes here? I only did it with him and since that time, he thinks I'm banging every cook or waiter that crosses that door.

God, he might be even jealous of Friederich!'

“I'm sorry to bother you, Monsieur. I only wanted some tea…” Guntram said very sheepishly, completely hating to be in the middle of something he couldn't still understand.

“
Bien sûr.
Peter, make one and try to remember the difference between boiling and scalding water. Use leaves.”