He heard the creak of a stair down in the bowels of the guesthouse, flew to the window and stared wild-eyed out into the night. Another creak, closer, sent him flying to the light switch. She was out there, on the landing, coming to his door!
A gust of wind moaned into the room, billowing the curtains, striking at – into – Dragosani’s heart. In a moment all fear, all uncertainty was gone. He stepped out of the moonlight into shadow and waited.
The door opened silently and she came in. Trapped in a shaft of moonlight the grey veil-like garment she wore was almost transparent. She closed the door behind her, moved towards the bed.
‘Herr Dragosani?’ she said, her voice trembling just a little.
‘I’m here,’ he answered from the shadows.
She heard but didn’t look his way. ‘So … I was wrong about you,’ she said, raising her arms and drawing off the gauzy shift. Her breasts and buttocks were marble where the moon caressed them.
‘Yeesss,’ he whispered, stepping forward.
‘Well,’ now she turned to him, ‘here I am!’
She stood like a statue carved of milk, gazing at him with nothing at all of innocence. He came forward, a dark silhouette, reaching for her. In daylight she had thought his eyes a trifle weak, a watery blue – a soft, almost feminine, filmstar blue – but now . . .
The night suited him. In the night his eyes were feral -like those of a great wolf. And as he bore her down on to the bed, only then did she feel the first niggling doubt in the back of her mind. His strength was – enormous!
‘I was very, very wrong about you,’ she said.
‘Aahhh!’ said Dragosani.
The following morning, Dragosani called for his breakfast early. He took it in his room, where Hzak Kinkovsi found him looking (and feeling) more fully alive than he had thought possible. The country air must really agree with him. Use, on the other hand, was not so fortunate.
Dragosani didn’t need to enquire after her: her father was full of it, grumbling to himself as he served up a substantial breakfast on a tray. That woman,’ he said, ‘my Use, is a good strong girl – or should be. But ever since her operation – ‘ and he had shrugged.
‘Her operation?’ Dragosani had tried not to seem too interested.
‘Yes, six years ago. Cancer. Very bad for a young girl. Her womb. So, they took it away. That’s good, she lives. But this is farming country. A man wants a wife who’ll give him children, you know? So, she’ll be an old maid -maybe. Or perhaps she’ll go and get a job in the city. Strong sons are not so important there.’
It explained something, possibly. ‘I see,’ Dragosani nodded; and, carefully: ‘But this morning . . .?’
‘Sometimes she doesn’t feel too good, even now. Not often. But today she really isn’t up to much. So, she stays in her room for a day or two. Curtains drawn, dark room, all wrapped up in her bed, shivering. Just like when she was a little girl and sick. She says she doesn’t want a doctor, but – ‘ he shrugged again. ‘ – I worry about her.’
‘Don’t,’ said Dragosani. ‘I mean, don’t worry about her.’
‘Eh?’ Kinkovsi looked surprised.
‘She’s a full-grown woman. She’ll know what’s best for her. Rest, quiet, a nice dark room. Those are the right things. They’re all I need when I’m a bit down.’
‘Hmm! Well, perhaps. But still it’s worrying. And a lot of work to be done, too! The English come today.’
‘Oh?’ Dragosani was glad that the other had changed the subject. ‘Maybe I’ll meet them tonight.’
Kinkovsi nodded, looked gloomy. He gathered up the empty tray. ‘Difficult. I don’t know a lot of English. What I know I learned from tourists.’
‘I know some English,’ said Dragosani. ‘I can get by.’
‘Ah? Well, at least they’ll be able to talk to someone. Anyway, they bring good money – and money talks, eh?’ he managed a” chuckle. ‘Enjoy your breakfast, Herr Dragosani.’
‘I’m sure I will.’
Beginning to grumble again under his breath, Kinkovsi left the garret room and made his way downstairs. Later, when Dragosani went out, both Hzak and Maura were readying the lower rooms for their expected English guests.