Mirage Beyond Flames (Coriola) (19 page)

BOOK: Mirage Beyond Flames (Coriola)
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“You are right,
mon ami
,” Gerard put in. “I’ve met so many doctors who are interested only in money, in fame. To them, patients are nothing but lab subjects, guinea pigs. These people have lost their humanity, or maybe some of them were born this way. It’s true you need a certain dose of detachment to practice medicine, otherwise we would all go mad knowing we can’t save all patients. It’s terrible when you lose someone… I will never forget the first patient I lost, a little girl, only three years old…”

A shadow of unspeakable regret crossed over his features
. Quietly, Linda covered his hand with hers. For the first time, she was truly beginning to realize what an enormous responsibility weighed on her lover’s shoulders, how demanding and hard can be the life of a doctor who takes his job to heart.

Jean-Paul sighed
, then patted his friend’s back.

“None of the lost patients is ever forgotten, my friend, we all experience this dreadful feeling. But what pushes us forward is the happiness and gratitude of the saved ones, of their families. Maybe this is how
God feels when he creates life.”

Mariana gazed at her husband with the same love, pride and admiration Linda felt for her lover.

Perhaps for others he’s just a simple man, but for me he is the entire world
, she thought inwardly, looking at the profile of the man beside her, so attractive, in spite of the fatigue imprinted on his face. Each feature, each line were proof of his character and the personality which had made her fall in love with him.

After dinner
, they all sat down to watch a movie, but soon Gerard and Linda excused themselves. They were tired, overwhelmed by the day’s events. Added to that, the following morning they had to leave early to reach the airport in time for their flight.

They
said
goodnight
to Mariana and Jean, then retired in their room.

They undressed slowly, feeling the oppressing tiredness in every muscle. They sank
in rapture between the cool lavender-smelling sheets. She curled against his chest and he embraced her tightly, absorbing the warmth of her body. They stood like that in silence for a while, without being able to fall asleep. She was the one who broke the silence:

“Even now I can’t believe that Madame Maria, the cabin and all t
hat happened there weren’t real. My mind simply refuses to comprehend what went on in that damned forest.”

Gerard sighed,
as though comprised by the same confuse feeling of frustration. Then he whispered softly:

“The cabin, Madame Maria, they were real, my love. Just… not in our times. You hear
d what Jean told us, their legend. I am a scientist, a man of facts, but it’s impossible for me to find a concrete explanation for this bizarre episode.”

“Because there isn’t a logi
cal explanation. At least, not in our narrow logic. That’s why we call the things beyond normal
paranormal
. Because we don’t understand them. If it wasn’t so important, I would regret we ever came here. Speaking of which, you haven’t had the chance to tell me what you discussed with Jean.”

He summarily recounted what had transpired during the hours spend at the clinic that morning. He concluded by saying:

“It was definitely worth the effort of coming here. But I get the impression Jean is putting too much hope in me.”

“That’s not true! You can do anything, my love,
anything
,” she told him animated, her eyes shining in darkness. “You have an inner force I’ve never encountered before. This, along with your dedication, your intelligence and your extraordinary character make you invincible. To me you’re a super-man, you’re… everything,” she stated simply, then bent and kissed him fervently.

Stirred by the passio
n and intensity of her words, by her hot kiss, he pulled her closer, embracing her hard, almost with desperation. He seemed to feel the acute need to be sure the woman in his arms was real, that she was only his and that no one could tear her apart from him. He kissed her long, caressing her, whispering words in his maternal language, understood only by him.

They made love in
darkness, quietly, like two teenagers sneaking in an isolated corner to relieve the smoldering passion consuming them.

He
shook uncontrollably in her arms. Spent, he lowered his head on her chest, listening to her rapid heartbeats, a rhythm which seemed to communicate something special only to him.

“I love you,”
she whispered stroking his hair, then his slightly abrasive cheek, covered by the fine traces of a beard.

“I love you too, Linda, more than you could
ever imagine. Trust me, if you could know the intensity of what I feel for you, this would scare you more than our surreal experience in the woods.”

Her hear
t was jolted by a strange emotion, but she smiled.

“How can you think that? Your love is what makes me wake up every day with a smile on my lips and in my heart. On the other hand, what happened in that forest… I wish it had never happened or, at least, I wish we wouldn’t remember it.”

“Not a chance, baby. Even if it would be best not to think about it, not to torment ourselves with questions that will remain forever unanswered, we’ll never forget that episode.”

 

Chapter Twenty-One

 

On the day of their departure, the neighbors’ infamous rooster woke them up again. While they dressed and packed, Linda kept muttering in Italian all kinds of culinary recipes, whose main ingredient was the feathered enemy. Suddenly she turned to Gerard, smiling diabolically:

“Baby, do you think we could buy that cock for Pirata? He would have so much fun with him…”

He burst into laughter then, looking through the window, said:

“Judging by the size of that beast, I think Pirata would be the one who’d serve as an appetizer for it.”

 

Mariana
served breakfast, insisting the two must eat well before getting on the road. The table atmosphere was cheerful, but they all had their souls shadowed by sorrow. They had gotten attached with each other, these couples, so different in age, nationality and life style, but still having many things in common.

The two women were teary
-eyed when they said goodbye, while the men loaded the bags in the trunk. Mariana had given them some of the décor objects she’d created –
small parts of her soul
– as she called them.

Even in Jean-Paul’s eyes there was a tra
ce of a strange nostalgia. That morning he seemed older and not as tall as before.

Although the Battistes had promised to come visit London when time and money would allow it, none
of them truly believed they’d see each other again.

In each hug could be read an ambiguous finality. Linda imagined that responsible for the somewhat somber atmosphere
were also the odd events they’d shared, the four of them, during those three days.

Gerard squeezed his friend’s hand and Jean-Paul told him with emotion vibrating in his abrasive voice:

“Remember what I told you, my son. You are strong, noble. Michel would be proud of you,” he went on, referring to Gerard’s father. “I, for one, am damned proud. If Mariana and I would have had children, none would have been as good as you.”

Impressed and strangely touched, the younger man gazed at the tips of his shoes for a moment, then lifted his gaze to his old friend.

“Thank you, Jean, for everything! Take care of yourselves!”

He hugged him tight, then he embraced Mariana, kissing her hand. He opened the car door for Linda and, with a last glance at his closest friends, got into the car.

 

The
return trip was very different from the initial one. Their mindset was different. Coming to Romania, they were headed toward adventure, toward a welcoming and fascinating unknown. Now they were leaving behind the same unknown, fascinating in a bizarre way, but far from welcoming, and their adventure spirit had evaporated. They had gotten a lot more than they’d bargained for.

The only thing lifting
their spirits was the fact that, in an old suitcase camouflaged in Gerard’s dusty rucksack, they were bringing home a priceless treasure.

“What do you plan to do now, with the file Jean gave you?” she asked, gazing through the windshield
at kilometers of road they rapidly left behind.

He sighed, then said in a vague tone:

“To be honest, I don’t even know where to start. I’ve a couple of trustworthy colleagues, I think I could count on them. I gotta share this with someone, I can’t work by myself. I have to account higher, we need to make tests, it’s an extremely long way until we’ll manage to patent a treatment. But we have hope, that’s the most important thing.”

She
squeezed his hand gently, then turned on the radio to lighten the mood.

The road was pretty clear, so
the trip didn’t take as long as the first one. Thanks to the copious breakfast made by Mariana, neither of them wanted to stop and eat. They reached Bucharest and drove straight to the agency to return the rented Jeep. After all formalities were concluded and all taxes paid, the couple took their luggage and got into the first available cab, asking the driver to take them at the airport.

When
the whole boarding process was finalized, they installed in their destined seats and the plane took off. Not taking any notice of the distance between their seats or the uncomfortable position, Linda wriggled to her lover’s chest whispering:

“I can’t wait to get home. To forget everything that happened, resume our lives, our daily routine…”

He stroked her cheek thoughtfully.

“So do I, my love. So do I.

Tired, they slept most of the way. It seemed like only an hour or so had passed where their arrival was announced.

As they stepped again on the dusty London streets, they felt revived. The dry and stuffy air, the infernal traffic, all seemed like corners of heaven now.

After a short debate, they decided for each to go to their respective residences to deal with their business, so each took a separate cab.

Linda had called Mrs. Adams as soon as they’d got out of the airport, so the woman was waiting for her at home, with Pirata. When he spotted her, the cat began meowing desperately. If it was a sign of joy or reproach, Linda didn’t know, nor care. She took him in her arms and sank her cheek in the clean fur, murmuring endearments, caressing him with all the love a mother can feel for her child.

Assuring
her the house was clean, the pool water had been changed, the fridge was full and everything was fine, Mrs. Adams left her to enjoy the reunion with her adored cat, in the cozy comfort of her own home.

She
unpacked assisted by Pirata, then spent some time arranging on shelves the souvenirs from Mariana and those she had bought. Others she put aside, intending to send them as gifts to her family, as wells as to a dear childhood friend from her beloved Italy.

F
inishing this chore, she took some ice-cream from the fridge and cuddled on the couch with her cat, in front of the TV. Darkness had fallen by now, causing her elves and dwarfs to spread multi-colored lights from their torches.

“The
re’s no place like home, honey,” she told the cat, offering him a finger covered in ice-cream, which he promptly licked. “I wonder what my lover is doing now…”

 

* * *

 

In his apartment, Gerard unpacked quickly, then headed to the shower. He sat for a long time under the purifying jet of scolding water, trying to relax. He felt unjustifiably tired, not only physically, but first of all mentally. Wearing only a towel wrapped around his waist, he sat on the sofa, watching absently the fish undulating in the aquarium. On the coffee table in front of him was Jean-Paul’s file. He studied it meditatively, thinking of everything that laid there, enciphered in ink on paper. The potential of saving hundreds, thousands of lives, a vicious fight waiting for him, with all those who were laying traps and obstacles from the shadows. A huge responsibility weighing on his shoulders. He wondered for a moment if Jean wasn’t putting too much hope in his abilities, if he was capable to take this fight to the end.

Then he thought of L
inda, of the way she looked at him, as if he was a god.
Apollo
, he told himself smiling, remembering her sculpture. If he had her love, her support, he could do anything.

“Anything. I
f I have you beside me, I can do anything, Linda,” he said aloud, suddenly feeling invincible. He’d taken the decision he was contemplating for a few days and rose abruptly to call her.

Just at
that moment, the doorbell rang. Gerard looked through the peephole, then opened the door.

“Hi, Danielle,”
he greeted the blonde woman, dressed in a minuscule red outfit which outlined voluptuous curves.

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