Boris had silently agreed with her. It would cause trouble, yes – and even more so if there should be mention of the beast! But his aunt didn’t know he knew about that, and it was best that she shouldn’t. Otherwise … the entire charade would fall apart. Anyway, the satyr was no longer in the house and Boris had hoped he wouldn’t be back; Aunt Hildegard had fed Boris, and later he’d heard her telling Anna and Katrina to leave him completely alone, that he wasn’t for them, and this must all be handled very delicately; the thing had seemed to be finished with, for which Boris had been grateful. Until that night . . .
Exhausted, Boris had slept in his bed against the door, his own weight replacing that of the dresser; but that had not been enough. At about 3:00 a.m., aware of some sort
of erratic, intermittent motion, he had come half-awake to hear his aunt’s voice clumsily hushing and lulling him back to sleep, or at least attempting to. Her voice had been slurred and her breathing very heavy; she had been drinking and was naked, as he discovered when he put out his hand in the darkness. That had instantly shocked him fully awake, aware that this insatiable woman was trying to get into bed with him. And at that, immediately and like a cool, salving hand on his hot brow, an icy anger had come over him to oust and completely replace all fear.
‘Aunt Hildegard,’ he had said into the darkness, sitting up and averting his face from the alcohol on her breath, ‘please put the light on.’
‘Ah! Dear boy! You’re awake and want to see me. But . . . why! I’ve been to bed, Boris, and I’m afraid I’ve no clothes on. So hot, these summer nights! I got up for a little drink of water, and must have stumbled in here by mistake.’ As she finished speaking, her breasts had brushed his face.
Gritting his teeth and again turning his face away, Boris had repeated, ‘Put on the light.’
‘But that’s very naughty of you, Boris!’ she’d girlishly pretended to protest, at the same time finding the light switch. And momentarily dazzled, there she had stood quite naked where she’d forced the bed back from the open door. And smiling a little drunkenly at him, which had the effect of making her look utterly stupid and disgusting, she’d moved towards him and reached out her arms.
Then, seeing that he was fully dressed, and for the first time noting the strange look on his face, her hand had flown to her mouth. ‘Boris, I – ‘
‘Aunt,’ he had swung his legs out of bed and slipped his feet into his shoes, ‘you will get out of this room now,
please, and stay out. If you do not, I shall leave, and if the door downstairs is locked then I’ll break a window. Then, as soon as I’m able, I shall tell my step-father exactly what goes on in this house, and -‘
‘Goes on?’ she was sobering rapidly, trying to catch hold of his hand, beginning to look worried.
‘About the men who come here, to fuck you and my cousins – like the great bulls which service my stepfather’s cows!’
‘Why, you – !’ She had staggered back from him, her eyes wild in a suddenly white face. ‘You saw?
‘Get out!’ Boris had sneered at her then, a withering look which he would employ from that day forward when dealing with women, and tried to thrust her from the door.
At that her eyes had narrowed to slits and she’d spat at him: ‘So that’s the way it is, is it? The big boys at the college got to you first, did they? You like them better than girls, do you?’
Boris had turned towards the window then, picking up a chair. ‘Go on,’ he’d snapped, ‘out! Or I leave at once, right now. And not only will I tell my father, but also every policeman I meet between here and Bucharest. I’ll tell them about the library of dirty books you keep -which alone might get you a term in prison – and about your daughters, who are little more than girls and already worse than whores – ‘