Kill Cupid: Internet dating just got dangerous (25 page)

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The rest of the day was an exercise in patience, trying to organise new airline tickets. There were no available seats from Krasnodar back to Moscow and the local Aeroflot office was not in a position to reissue a duplicate ticket. The woman explained a new one would have to be bought then a refund sent later after a lost ticket application had been filed. She didn’t smile the entire time.
Good luck getting money out of the airline, sonny.

              ‘That comes to three thousand seven hundred roubles.’ The officious woman declared stern faced, already writing the Krasnodar to Moscow ticket. 10pm the following evening was the earliest available.
Another 270 beers
Bronte lamented.

Fortunately the other airline accommodated the dilemma more cordially. Their replacement cost was only one hundred and thirty beers or 80 euros. He paid in euros. But if he was despondent with the news of another day’s delay and the chunk Alessiya had indirectly taken from the five hundred cash she’d refunded, Tanya was elated. She had him for another night! Who knows what could happen?

              ‘Let’s go shopping. I want to celebrate that you must stay here.’

Oh no, not more boots. And wait, we haven’t even played cards!
‘What for, Tanya?’

              ‘I want to buy you something, a memento from me.’

              She chose a set of ten pieces in a glorious hand painted array of pinks and creams with gold leaf. Later, admiring his ‘
matroshki
’ or Russian dolls and the delicate craftsmanship that had gone into all the pieces fitting so perfectly inside one another, he mused that he had not seen any in any Russian home yet. Then again, no one he knew had boomerangs on their walls back home.

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‘I hope you understand I won’t see you off at the airport tomorrow,’ she said as she brushed her new mousey blonde coloured hair. Then, adjusting her g-string panties and walking back to bed continued, ‘I have to get home before tomorrow evening. You know how it is, family stuff.’

‘Hey that’s okay, I understand. I’ll go with you to the airport and see you off first.’ He kissed her on the arm and shoulder as she slid under the sheets.

‘But that’s hours Joey, what will you do? You should stay here and relax… sleep until the early morning.’

‘I know it’s quite a while, but hey, I’m doin’ nothing and it’ll save the extra day of hotel charges. I’ll get something to eat, have a few beers then hang around the airport ‘til my flight leaves. Besides, I can probably crash somewhere for a while.’ Doting Joey pulled Alessiya back under the sheets. She giggled.

Zhana also took the next day off, declaring she was ill. She couldn’t deal with work at that time. Tanya on the other hand had to leave for her sister’s place. In front of Zhana, she kissed Bronte goodbye with more intensity than he was expecting. After all that had transpired with Zhana, the kiss in the park, the closeness prior to Willy’s intrusion, he detected a degree of uncertainty between the two girls. After a few days with him gone and out of the picture, it was nothing a chat wouldn’t fix. Tanya stepped in nobly to dispel doubts and fears Willy harboured on arrival. But Bronte also guessed her swift action to take up position on his lap was a move with a romantic ulterior motive. Now her kiss had verified that.

Up to that time Tanya would’ve probably described her life as meaningless. Meeting Bronte had shown that although she lived in Woop-Woop, the chance for something meaningful falling into her lap out of the blue was possible. She departed with an unfamiliar ray of hope the Australian had shone into her life. Anyway, she’d be coming back to stay in three days. Zhana had found a position for Tanya at the shop so they’d have ample time for reflection and any conflict resolution then. Bronte on the other hand knew he’d probably never see her again and he wondered if she’d sensed he was thinking just that. Truth was he was relieved she had gone. It was appropriate that his last hours in Russia should be spent alone with Zhana.

              ‘You know I was almost glad to see Willy walk in on us the other night.’ Bronte said reluctantly.

              ‘That’s kind of you to say that… and so was I really… I wasn’t sure which end was up… anyway, I have my beautiful ring.’ Zhana looked at the sparkling stone on her finger for the thousandth time.

              ‘Hey, I said almost… and probably almost glad he stayed and shared your bed.’

              ‘Probably not as glad as Tanya…’ Zhana gave a cunning smile.

              ‘That’s what I’m speaking about. I’m not sure what you may have saved me from doing with Tanya, had you guys not been six feet away.’

              ‘I think I know what I saved you from doing with Tanya. She really fell for you, hook line and sinker.’

              ‘Sounds like I caught the wrong fish but then again, I never do have much luck fishing. The picture I sent you… the one with the fish… it was a fluke - a lucky day. I’m no Rex Hunt you know.’

              ‘What… Rex who?’

              ‘Rex Hunt… he’s an Australian bloke with a show about fishing. It’s really popular... o never mind’

              ‘Never heard of it… anyway, I don’t like fishing’ Zhana added.

              ‘Yeah well, he doesn’t keep fish he catches. He kisses them goodbye before throwing them back…’

              ‘Like you with Tanya?’

              ‘I could say like you with me’ Bronte answered.

‘And what about you… will you be alright? What will happen to you? I am not sure that Tanya or I will see you again.’

              ‘Unless you send me a message Willy died, I don’t see myself back in this place in a hurry.’

‘I think if I stay in this city with Alessiya, I have more chance of dying than he does.’ Zhana started picking the lacquer from her nails, something she appeared to do when she stressed.

‘Don’t worry dear, I’m sure everything will settle down now. She’s had her fun and probably thinks she’s wrecked your love life - with Willy
and
me. But we’ll have the last say, you’ll see.’

‘God, I hope you’re right’ Zhana said before stopping. ‘If Willy hadn’t arrived… well who knows what we might be planning or discussing right now.’

‘I don’t think a lot would have changed… I’d have run out of time before you’d resolved your heart’s dilemma.’

‘…and you’re about to run out of town before you resolve Tanya’s heart dilemma. God Bronte, I don’t think anyone will ever create such a fiasco in this town again as you have this last week.’

‘You have Alessiya and Rita to thank for that…’

‘and the fact you stopped writing all those months ago... so what was her name?’

‘Lena… but it was only for sex’ Bronte grinned.

‘I won’t tell Tanya that…’

‘Thanks… but why not? It doesn’t matter now anyway…’

‘Because her sister’s name is Lena.’

              ‘Is she nice?’

              ‘She’s beautiful actually…’

‘Damn!’ Bronte laughed. ‘Zhana, seriously… now that the tide of separation is creeping closer, I’m wondering how on earth I can get up and leave. I feel like we’ve been war mates, watching each other march off to their fate. While you know I will be lost, I know your safety is guaranteed after a deal with the German enemy… but all’s fair in love and war I suppose.’

‘Maybe you should come back and start a relationship with Tanya?’

‘Thanks… but not now. Anyone else is a compromise for me, if you know what I mean.

In the cab to the airport that night, he felt a terrible sadness rush over him. Zhana, well aware of the fragile emotional state made no attempt to release the constant squeeze on his hand. She was the first to break the lengthy silence.

‘Everything will be okay. You know… I do love you Bronte. I hope we’ll stay in touch.’

Stay in touch?
He hated hearing those formal all too nice words. Already bound by the strange and turbulent circumstances that brought them together, it was a tragedy they were not really a couple. It felt so right just to be with her. But he was leaving. There could be no turning back after he got on the plane. Why couldn’t he straight out acknowledge how he felt and insist she must be feeling the same way? She would have no recourse to alter his affections after he left. When he’d gone, there would be no simple way to drive over and see her, nor could she take a marshutka bus to him. Meanwhile, Willy could march on Krasnodar like the invading German army. His proximity alone gave him the upper hand.

Bronte wanted to tell her she was his and that she may as well accept that they loved each other more than they could possibly know and feel right now. He would plan to return as soon as he could. Cruel as it may be, she should dump Willy while the opportunity existed and realise they should never be apart again. Yes, to hell with Willy. He was the chief agent behind the cold war, this stand off between pride and responsibility. A tear broke and he bit his lip. Zhana still held his hand with a grip which could have said,
Don’t leave me, ever.

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When they reached the airport, he held her for the last time and felt genuine regret that he would not have the chance to be in this position for some months, six at least he estimated. She snuggled in and slipped her hands in his trouser pockets. He loved she could be so carefree about her affection in a public place. It was exciting and gave him the sensation of a teenager all over again.

‘Final boarding call for flight SU 417 to Krasnodar’ the speakers blared.

‘Okay, you should run. Your plane leaves in twenty minutes and that was the last call’ he said, holding her as if his statement was meaningless.

‘I will miss you terribly my love. Please write’ Alessiya said.

‘Of course, I will send you mail as soon as I get in the door. You know I love you very much and… I want to marry you.’

‘Wow! Joey not now, let’s talk okay? I love you too.’ She kissed him once, twice, and then ran off. He watched her leave and while she waved he blew kisses.             

Bronte cried watching Zhana walk away. He hoped the customs officers nearby weren’t looking at him. She hadn’t looked at him and in fact, not once did she turn back and glance or even wave. He felt shattered that perhaps it was easy for her to do that, while for him, it was agony. How was it possible she show no emotion, certain she had been as transfixed to him as he was to her? He stood stunned, lost for a moment. Then as she passed through the exit, he noticed her hand slip into her bag and retrieve a tissue and the last thing he saw was she raised it to her face. Zhana wasn’t just crying too, she was sobbing.

It is strange how two people can harbour intense feelings, bottled emotions with deep seated longings and desires for each other, but never actually express them. The myriad of fears, expectations and the possibility of rejection all act together as a well oiled machine to cause seizure of the tongue. Equally tragic are the true loves lost to feelings of responsibility and commitment. Together, these become the immovable object meeting the irresistible force, acting to create a dam of confused feelings with strength to withhold the waters of love, passion and romance.

Holding her that last time in the terminal was as though they would surely have to be pried apart. Bronte didn’t want to let go of her and if the way Zhana held him was an indication of something, she didn’t want him to go anywhere either. The grip they had on each other was like no embrace he had experienced. Now he understood how couples may have felt in their final moments together on board Titanic. Their clutches held the desperation of a terminal goodbye with the overwhelming hopelessness of lost love and wasted dreams.

They fit together as one entity, like wearing the same overcoat. More than a man and woman in deep embrace, they were male and female united in resignation of their own finality. And no matter what they were feeling it was almost impossible to say anything, all words inadequate. Zhana only repeated whispers of
‘I’m so sorry’
while he kept replying
‘I love you.’
Finally the airline lady told her she would have to leave and somehow, as quickly as that, they were apart and she was walking away.

Bronte wanted to sob inwardly as the plane lifted off, the entire weight of the dramatic ten days finally settling on his shoulders all at once too much. Just days before, the only important thing had been that they had finally met. Now, the only thing that mattered was they were gone from each other and perhaps forever. He closed his eyes, allowing the juke box in his head to console him.
I’m leaving, on a jet plane, don’t know if I’ll be back again.
A tear or two broke and ran down his face.