a gun. A knife. Mikis Menderes is human. He can be killed. I could –’
‘Stop,’ she smiles. ‘It’s cute – no, not cute, volunteering to kill a man can’t be
cute
– but you’re being silly. You’re a writer,
not a thug. You couldn’t kill anyone and I don’t expect you to, so quit with the macho crap. It doesn’t become you.’
‘And if it wasn’t crap? If I could really kill him?’
She pinches the love handles I’ve developed over the last few years. ‘Stop.’
‘OK.’ I force a smile. ‘I won’t kill your husband.’
She laughs, then grows serious and steps back. ‘Now that you know. Now that you realize how impossible it is. Do you want to go on seeing me?’ She stares at the floor.
‘I’ll understand if you don’t. Our only hope is if Mikis drops dead of a heart attack or if one of his rivals eliminates him. I don’t think that will happen. Although
he’s older than either of us, he’s fit as a fiddle, and he leads a charmed life. He may live to be a hundred.’
‘Andeanna.’ She looks up, hopeful, fearful. ‘I love you. Nothing can change that. If I can’t have it all, I’ll take whatever I can.’
‘You don’t mind?’ She sounds doubtful.
‘Of course I mind! Being with you and not having you tears me to pieces. But it’s better than not being with you at all. Just to see you, to talk with you, to hold and kiss you . . .
’ I stop when I feel a lump in my throat. I haven’t cried (except when drunk and pitiful) since I was a kid, and I don’t want to embarrass myself by starting now.
‘Oh, Ed,’ she sobs, and throws herself on me. I hold her and whisper and tell her everything’s fine, the sex doesn’t matter, simply having her with me like this is
enough.
Eventually Andeanna pushes herself away, grabs tissues from the table and wipes around her eyes, then sits and applies make-up. I watch, amused. She notices my grin in the mirror and lowers her
head. ‘Force of habit,’ she mutters, then stands and clears her throat. ‘There
are
things we can do, if we’re careful.’
‘What are you talking about?’
She blushes and whispers something beneath her breath.
‘I can’t hear you,’ I tell her.
She looks at me straight, defiant this time, and with a twinkle in her eye. ‘I could give you a handjob.’
I laugh out loud at the unexpected proposal.
‘What?’ Andeanna snaps, pretending to be offended. ‘I’ll have you know I have very skilled hands.’
‘I’m sure you do,’ I smirk.
She wriggles her fingers. ‘Kings would offer fortunes for a few quick jerks from me.’
I explode in a fit of giggles, and I can’t recall the last time that ever happened to me. ‘Stop!’ I gasp, clutching my sides.
‘Well, I’m glad I can make you laugh, even if I can’t satisfy your carnal desires,’ Andeanna sniffs, then flexes her fingers at me again. As I chuckle, she gets up, grabs
hold of me and pulls me down on to the bed. We wrestle with each other, playfully. She tickles me. I kiss her and start to slide a hand up between her legs, drawing a delighted squeal. I stop
before she pushes me away, respecting the boundaries the Turk has forced on her.
After a while she falls still and rests her head on my shoulder. ‘I’m sorry,’ she murmurs. ‘I want you more than anything else in the world. I want to give myself to you.
Not being able to . . . ’
‘Don’t let it get you down,’ I tell her, kissing the top of her head, running my hands through her hair, relishing even this much contact, content to have to stop here.
‘Our time will come. Things will work out.’
‘You really think so?’ she asks sceptically.
‘Sure,’ I sigh. ‘It happens in fairy tales all the time, and you’re as beautiful as any fairy-tale princess, so . . . ’
‘Bullshitter,’ she says, pinching me lovingly. Then we hold each other tight, smiling, kissing, letting our warm breath mingle. If I was to be truthful with her, I’d have to
admit that
‘Stop,’ she smiles. ‘It’s cute – no, not cute, volunteering to kill a man can’t be
cute
– but you’re being silly. You’re a writer,
not a thug. You couldn’t kill anyone and I don’t expect you to, so quit with the macho crap. It doesn’t become you.’
‘And if it wasn’t crap? If I could really kill him?’
She pinches the love handles I’ve developed over the last few years. ‘Stop.’
‘OK.’ I force a smile. ‘I won’t kill your husband.’
She laughs, then grows serious and steps back. ‘Now that you know. Now that you realize how impossible it is. Do you want to go on seeing me?’ She stares at the floor.
‘I’ll understand if you don’t. Our only hope is if Mikis drops dead of a heart attack or if one of his rivals eliminates him. I don’t think that will happen. Although
he’s older than either of us, he’s fit as a fiddle, and he leads a charmed life. He may live to be a hundred.’
‘Andeanna.’ She looks up, hopeful, fearful. ‘I love you. Nothing can change that. If I can’t have it all, I’ll take whatever I can.’
‘You don’t mind?’ She sounds doubtful.
‘Of course I mind! Being with you and not having you tears me to pieces. But it’s better than not being with you at all. Just to see you, to talk with you, to hold and kiss you . . .
’ I stop when I feel a lump in my throat. I haven’t cried (except when drunk and pitiful) since I was a kid, and I don’t want to embarrass myself by starting now.
‘Oh, Ed,’ she sobs, and throws herself on me. I hold her and whisper and tell her everything’s fine, the sex doesn’t matter, simply having her with me like this is
enough.
Eventually Andeanna pushes herself away, grabs tissues from the table and wipes around her eyes, then sits and applies make-up. I watch, amused. She notices my grin in the mirror and lowers her
head. ‘Force of habit,’ she mutters, then stands and clears her throat. ‘There
are
things we can do, if we’re careful.’
‘What are you talking about?’
She blushes and whispers something beneath her breath.
‘I can’t hear you,’ I tell her.
She looks at me straight, defiant this time, and with a twinkle in her eye. ‘I could give you a handjob.’
I laugh out loud at the unexpected proposal.
‘What?’ Andeanna snaps, pretending to be offended. ‘I’ll have you know I have very skilled hands.’
‘I’m sure you do,’ I smirk.
She wriggles her fingers. ‘Kings would offer fortunes for a few quick jerks from me.’
I explode in a fit of giggles, and I can’t recall the last time that ever happened to me. ‘Stop!’ I gasp, clutching my sides.
‘Well, I’m glad I can make you laugh, even if I can’t satisfy your carnal desires,’ Andeanna sniffs, then flexes her fingers at me again. As I chuckle, she gets up, grabs
hold of me and pulls me down on to the bed. We wrestle with each other, playfully. She tickles me. I kiss her and start to slide a hand up between her legs, drawing a delighted squeal. I stop
before she pushes me away, respecting the boundaries the Turk has forced on her.
After a while she falls still and rests her head on my shoulder. ‘I’m sorry,’ she murmurs. ‘I want you more than anything else in the world. I want to give myself to you.
Not being able to . . . ’
‘Don’t let it get you down,’ I tell her, kissing the top of her head, running my hands through her hair, relishing even this much contact, content to have to stop here.
‘Our time will come. Things will work out.’
‘You really think so?’ she asks sceptically.
‘Sure,’ I sigh. ‘It happens in fairy tales all the time, and you’re as beautiful as any fairy-tale princess, so . . . ’
‘Bullshitter,’ she says, pinching me lovingly. Then we hold each other tight, smiling, kissing, letting our warm breath mingle. If I was to be truthful with her, I’d have to
admit that
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