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Pasha was attractive and knew it; I could see that he enjoyed the admiring looks he received on entering the hall at dinnertime. Dark wavy hair matched dark eyes that held more than a hint of naughtiness, while his body was a wide block of muscle. His cheeks had dimples and his chin, a cleft. The old friends hugged with much manly back clapping. There followed a loud exchange in Ukrainian, and I was summoned with a shouted, “Malphia!”
The high level of happiness that Aleks expressed while introducing me to his friend was endearing. The sweeping appraisal my body got from the dimpled one was not.
“She is very beautiful, Zolotov.” Pasha kissed my hand with a flourish and a look that immediately downgraded Colin to the rank of badly behaved puppy. Here was a calculating reptile.
Aleks asked if I minded the two of them going out that night. I’d replied that of course I didn’t mind, and that had been entirely honest when said there in the great hall.
It no longer felt true when I saw him all handsome and smart in shirt and jacket in the foyer on his way out.
“You look like you’re on the pull,” Justin said to him in a gloomy tone.
“You are joke, yes?” said Aleks. “Pasha wants to see Aberdeen. We will be home late. Go sleep, Malphia. I will try to creep in.” And with a quick kiss he was gone.
“Prepare yourself, Phi,” said Justin. “The end of happy-fun-time approaches. Trouble draws near.” He gazed into the distance. “By this time next week, you’ll all be saying: Justin was right. Now we know our doom.”
Evil portents were difficult to disregard at bedtime, solitary and cold as I was. Fleecy bunny pyjamas were no comfort, and after what felt like hours of lying awake in the dark, I sought the refuge of the kitchen. The hot chocolate was lumpy, the stove barely warm in the old fireplace and the clock’s message stark: it was after one-thirty in the morning.
A muffled bang carried through from the foyer. I hurried across the hall and there they both were, Aleks just closing the locks on the main door.
“Is your vanilla crème pie, Aleksandr,” said Pasha.
“My angel,” corrected Aleks, walking carefully over. “Why you not in bed, all cosy warm?” His slight slur was sweet, and his mouth tasted of vodka.
“Couldn’t sleep. Made hot chocolate.”
Pasha’s laugh was not sweet. Aleks went to the bathroom, leaving the two of us eyeing one another uncertainly on the chessboard floor while stony-faced angels looked down from above.
Pasha spoke first. “So, this is the woman who tames the great Aleksandr Zolotov. He was a stallion! Ahh…” He looked round and sat down on the stairs, the effort involved in standing apparently too much for him. “Tonight, all was hopeless,” he said. “I see hot women for us.” The night grew colder. “But he has no interest. Is look menus. Food. ‘Amalphia would like this, must take her here.’”
“Oh.” I sat on the far side of the wide stone step from him, feeling a little warmer.
“And you are pleased about it. This great man, shackled. Chained up by a woman.”
I looked at him in annoyance as he continued.
“He was wild, when he was young, when he was free. The nights we have. The tour of Amsterdam, this was one to remember. Not one hooker, many. One woman is never enough for him. Are you even knowing what is on a brothel menu? You are not offering him even small part of this, I can tell.” The dark eyes dared me to be shocked.
I turned my head away, willing Aleks to hurry up, and Pasha to shut up.
Shutting up was not something he was about to do. “Now he has nothing,” he said. “A night like tonight? In the past we would both have been in your bed, enjoy a woman together. Is good this way. You are agree?”
I stood up. He was right. I was a vanilla crème pie, and he had shocked me.
Aleks was back. “Cold, Malphia? You shiver.”
“I’m fine.”
Pasha moaned about having to climb the stairs.
I took them two at a time and stood in my room trying to absorb what had just happened. My heart rate quickened as feet sounded on the step outside. What if they both came in? What should I do? What could I say? Well, no, obviously. My veins filled with ice as the door opened, and then Aleks entered the room alone.
“I’ll just be a minute,” I said, darting into the bathroom to compose myself.
“Okay, my sweet, sweet angel.”
Sweet. Vanilla. Plain.
“I am not liking how much he is liking you,” he called.
