Under The Summer Sun. Emmanuel Bodin

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СКАЧАТЬ Svetlana had jumped, surprised, almost furious, without bothering to answer his question.

      “What?! You work tomorrow? Why didn’t you tell me anything before?”

      Frank was speechless, surprised by the excessive reaction, unexpected. He had watched her, serene. Svetlana was pouting.

      “I’m disappointed, Frank. I thought we would sleep in together. I would have gone home if I had known.”

      “Did you not enjoy the evening?”

      “Of course, yes! I loved! It was very…”

      “Very good?” Frank asked her, cutting her off.

      “No! Much more than that! There are no words to express what I felt. It’s just that I wanted to sleep in late the morning. Because of my trip, I am very tired.”

      “You can sleep, Sveta. When you want to go, you just have to slam the door. Okay?”

      “Okay!”

      Svetlana’s smile had returned. They both stretched out at the edge of the bed. Svetlana rest her head on Frank’s chest. While caressing her silky hair, Frank wondered if leaving her alone at his home was a good idea. He had only known her for a few days. What was there to steal from him? Nothing very precious. She seemed like a trustworthy person, innocent of all amorality. He hoped that he was not wrong. She did not look like a woman who stole from people. Rather, it’s quite the opposite. If he wanted to create a romantic story with her, he’d have to trust her at some point. If in love there is nothing but mistrust, then no noble feeling can reside there.

      After a last passionate embrace, slowly, the two lovers had fallen asleep, soothed, blissful.

      At the appointed time, Frank’s phone vibrated. He had to get up and go to work. Svetlana was still tired. She opened her eyes with difficulty. Exhaustion held her senses. Frank advised her not to worry about him and stay in bed. But, the back and forth between the kitchen, the bathroom and the bedroom occupied her attention.

      Thirty minutes later, Frank was ready to go. Svetlana was still lying under the sheets, sleepy and naked. She had watched him get dressed, tidy up their mess from the night before and drink his coffee. Before disappearing, he had wished her a pleasant day. Then he covered her with endless little kisses. This exchange of fluid to them was amazing. Frank lingered. He could not manage to separate from her. Every step he took, he would come back to kiss her again. He could not go out of the apartment anymore. She absorbed him completely and did nothing to let him go. She received and gave, without counting. A mysterious, ineffable charm had already bound them. An inherent magic is the only thing that could transform love at first sight into such hungry passion. Frank appeared already very much in love. With resignation, he had to find the strength to unstick himself from her to avoid a being too late. Svetlana gave him a dejected pout. She stared at him with her shimmering eyes… Another kiss. The last. For sure. Then, he cleared out from the place, like a thief. The slamming of the door signified their separation for a few days. Each would go about their daily tasks.

      These activities were nothing but their respective jobs. Frank was mopping the floor while Svetlana was selling handbags. In the evening, both were exhausted, for different reasons. Frank lived in a building where the simple calmness of his parents’ home here only reflected a gruff fantasy. He could not fall asleep until two o’clock in the morning, at best. As the working hours were fixed, he could not enjoy sleeping in on mornings. Frank returned exhausted. As for Svetlana, her job drained and fatigued her with the obligation to remain constantly on her feet. It is forbidden to sit except on their lunch break. After so many hours standing on her feet and listening to the customers’ requests, once at home, she collapsed on the small bed of eighty centimetres that looked like a child’s bed. The room was not very large: nine square meters and poorly furnished. Only the essential things occupied the little space. A desk with a bench and a large wardrobe completed the furniture. Near the entrance door was the shower tray, simple and banal, cubic. The hostel housed only women, to avoid any conjugal problems. Typically, the rooms are rented to foreigners who came to France for a few months to work. For the few French women who lived there, their lives had taken a bad turn. They had found themselves in financial difficulty. They were usually divorced women or women thrown mercilessly to nothingness and ruin by their previous partners. In this place, they found hope towards a brighter tomorrow. “At least,” some say, “they are not on the street.”

      One of Svetlana’s colleagues was staying at this residence; a Moldovan with whom she got along more or less well. They were not always on the same wavelength, unlike her Ukrainian friend who was basically her personality twin. Physically though, this was not the case. Although both tall, the Ukrainian had dark hair and was slender. Svetlana envied her thinness, even if in return this girl was suffering from a Lilliputian chest. Svetlana also did not have very developed breasts. For her body size, it seemed to her that what she had were a little too small. One of her exes had drawn her attention by pointing out that if she had a cup size of about a thirty-six C or D, she would have enjoyed a body likely to captivate any male! Would not she rather have looked like a vulgar bimbo? To create a certain illusion, she used padded bras like many young women her age.

      At work, Svetlana never had the same hours two days in a row. She hated to start late in the morning or worse, early in the afternoon. On those days she would finish after nine o’clock. That was very late to go home. She did not like not being able to enjoy free time after her work day.

      Svetlana liked to look at the handbags. When the opportunity arose, she would hang them on her arm. She imagined that it was hers. Her daydreaming was usually cut short. Either a client came to ask for information, or she wanted to buy the one that Svetlana was holding.

      Brands like Cartier, Ralph Lauren or Dolce & Gabbana easily surpassed a thousand euros. Other kinds were even close to two thousand. There were all sizes, from disproportionately giant to miniscule. Svetlana was fascinated with them and often admired them. As she was entitled to a twenty percent discount on the price by being a saleswoman, she made weekly favourite purchases at the great benefit of her employer. Generally, she did not spend more than fifty euros, including discount. If Svetlana was paid more, she would not have hesitated to invest in the luxurious items from the shop. In a way, she was a real fashion victim, but also of the consumer society. Without a purse on her arm, Svetlana did not feel whole, as if a part of her femininity was missing.

      The workweek ended without meeting, so they had made a date to spend Saturday evening together at Frank’s apartment.

      Frank had just received an SMS from Svetlana. She explained to him that she had gotten lost. She was in the neighbourhood, except that she had not remembered how to get to his place. Frank called her back. He advised her to wait for him at the metro. He went to join her. At the spot, Frank did not see Svetlana. She was not in the right place, which further complicated the situation. According to the descriptions of the environment she had given him on the phone, Frank had guessed that she had come out the metro too early. He went to meet her, barely a ten minute walk. Arrived at the station, behind a sign that contained the map of Paris, he had distinguished two female legs that protruded from a short skirt. He realised immediately that it was her. He had approached her and held her neck between his thumb and middle finger. Surprised, she had contracted.

      “Haaaaa!”

      Svetlana had just let out a little cry of surprise more than fear. She had turned around. He smiled. They kissed languidly, not caring about the presence of any passer-by.

      Once at the apartment, they went straight for the bed. Dinner could wait. Their appetite was much more carnal. With the tumultuous act of love accomplished, Svetlana had asked him if he had ice cream. In the summer, he liked to eat it СКАЧАТЬ