Orpheus Looks Back by George Loukas - HTML preview

11

CORINA

It was with real joy but also with a little worry that I greeted Corina. I was anxious that she should find her stay in our house comfortable. I met her at the airport when she arrived on the second week of April. There was a delay in her flight and she arrived around midnight. The weather was perfect, cool and clear. That time of the year Egypt is at her best. If you disregard the few days that are marred by the khamsin, the rest of the time is usually neither warm nor cold. It is cool in the early morning and evening and pleasantly fresh during the day. It is in May that the heat becomes oppressive. Corina looked not a day older. If anything, she was better looking than before. She kept her short, tousled hairstyle and I noticed she was wearing flat shoes with her white trousers and light red cotton jacket. She made it a point not to intimidate me. I saw her approaching from the exit of the customs with her graceful walk and serious face. She smiled when she saw me and fell into my arms in a movement as spontaneous as it was affectionate. Two vigorous kisses on my cheeks. A powerful hug. Full sized and enveloping. Hard on my back, voluptuous on my chest and perfumed. I kissed her too. I was very happy to see her.

'Welcome my dear Corina. It is so good to see you again.'

'And to see you, too, my dear Michael. Let me look at you. My, you have grown!'

'I can read and write now, auntie.' She laughed.

'I really mean it. You have matured. You now have the air of a man.'

'And you are growing younger. You have the air of a young woman.'

'That was nice. I cannot resist believing a compliment.'

'Don't worry. I am very miserly with mine and on most occasions they are true.'

'Ah, it's good to be back in Egypt.'

We moved to the car, packed the bags in the trunk and left the airport. .

'I almost know the way,' said Corina. 'Sometimes three years seem like three weeks and three weeks like three years. I feel as if I left Egypt three weeks ago, after visiting that holy wilderness, the Sinai. What a trip that was! The more time goes by, the more wonderful it seems.'

'A truly memorable experience. The start of our friendship.'

'Oh Michael, do you think we can go away together somewhere?'

'Yes, of course. We'll think about it. Think of something different.'

'Oh I'm sure we'll have a good time wherever we go.'

'Of course we will.'

The drive to town was quick and easy. It was nearly two when we reached home.

'Well this is it, Corina, home sweet home. Come I'll show you your room.' I pulled her bag along with us and we entered father's room.

'Very nice. And oh, how sweet, what lovely flowers to welcome me.'

'The bathroom is there to the left and there's another toilet next to it. I'm sure you'd like to shower.'

'Yes please.'

'You'll find clean towels in the cupboard.'

'And how does one dress after the shower?'

'Considering the hour, informally. Even though, like the Hilton, I am offering a welcoming free drink.'

'Would a discreet pair of pajamas be informal enough?'

'Just the thing Corina. In that case you will allow me to put on a pair as well?'

'Sure, let's not stand on ceremony.'

As she was having a shower, I had a quick wash in the kitchen sink. I put on a clean pair of pajamas making sure all the buttons were on duty. I then went to arrange the drinks in the living room. Wondering whether…? Take it easy, Michael. Relax. Nothing worse than pushing your luck. Than being in a hurry. But she was so nice- looking and pleasant and seemed so well disposed. Hey, she is your guest. One does not impose on one's guests. Let her make the first move. With that, I clinched my strategy. It was: Let her make the first move. Not much of a strategy. Still the only civilized thing to do. She came out of the bathroom and I heard her walk to her room. Was she wrapped up in a towel or what? I had been celibate too long. My imagination in a flight of fancy. I took a shot of whisky, straight. To brace me up. That was good. Corina came in. Looking gorgeous. Smiling. Her hair brushed back, ready for bed. In white cotton pajamas with little flowers all over. A red pair of slippers. She sat next to me.

'I came for the free drink,' she smiled.

'You mean the free drink with no strings attached? Or would you rather one with a string or two.'

'Whichever you prefer.'

That, already, was an answer but I kept up the banter.

'No, please, it's your choice. You are my guest and I don't want to impose. As for me, I have both. But with a decided preference for one of them.'

She continued smiling, looking at me quizzically but not without tenderness. A woman cannot easily say, yes, straightaway.

'Shall we start with no strings attached and see how it goes?' she said. 'Fair enough, my dear. What will you have?'

'I see you have vodka. Vodka on the rocks, then.' Vodka on the rocks coming up.'

'Thank you. To your health, Michael.'

'To yours Corina. I am so happy you are here.'

'So am I. So am I. You know I have a little work to do here in Egypt but mainly I am here for a short holiday. You might yet regret having invited me to your house.'

'Oh, Corina, how can you say that? You can stay as long as you like. On the contrary, I need company and the longer you stay the better. The hard part will be when you leave.'

'Thank you, Michael. I'm worried you might feel obliged to entertain me, that I shall distract you from your work.'

'But I do need distraction from my work. I have been working needlessly hard. I also need a short holiday. And, in any case, I am sure we'll entertain each other. Does that assuage your worry?'

'Yes, my dear perfect host.'

We sipped our drinks and engaged in small talk. She told me she visited her sister in Trondheim and then in Oslo met some old friends. She spoke a little of her life in Boston and the University and told me she enjoyed my letters and liked my lively style. That she eagerly awaited them.

'I wrote to you often how much I appreciated your letters, as well,' I said. 'You wrote to me just about everything that concerned your life but were always very circumspect concerning your relationships with men. Yet, I get the impression you are over the aversion you felt for them and for the physical aspect of love.'

She smiled.

'I never had an aversion for the physical side of love. I just did not want to get involved at that particular moment. Well three years have gone by. I am all right now. But some problems persist. Availability of acceptable partners is the main one. Being unmarried at my age is a peculiar situation. Nearly all my friends are married. Men are flirtatious but you usually know their wives. The women are wary of single women, afraid they might filch their men. The few men who are unmarried are, more likely than not, basket cases.'

'So what does one do?'

'Ah, that's the big question. Mostly I keep my fingers crossed. And pray that someone like you will come along. Appropriately aged.'

'Oh Corina, that's terribly sweet. It is, of course, an exaggeration but all the sweeter for it.'

She smiled and I took her hand, kissed it and held it. I would have loved to take a few more liberties but did not push my luck. It was shaping up nicely.

'And Lizzie?' She asked. 'Any news?'

'What is this? A sixth sense?'

'Why?'

'Another vodka?' I took her glass and filled it way over a double and a triple. Half a glassful and some ice. To an amused half-smile from Corina. I also filled mine just as recklessly.

'I am already tired and sleepy,' said Corina. 'It seems you want to knock me out completely. So why?'

'Why what? Oh, yes. You won't believe it. The day I got your letter in which you announced your trip to Egypt, I went out that evening with a friend to a restaurant for dinner. Who do I see there?'

'Who?'

'Can't you guess?'

'No. Well, Lizzie obviously comes to mind. But that is so improbable that I would not venture to suggest it.'

'And yet it was! I recognized her as she was leaving the restaurant and entering a chauffeured limousine with a man. I chased them with my car, Hollywood movie style, and we ended at the Hilton. There I managed to talk to her and I also met her the next day. To make a long story short, she married an Arab multi-millionaire a few months ago and they were on their way to Arabia where they shall reside. At least for a while.'

'Unbelievable! And does that crazy girl think she can live in Arabia?'

'Her husband has given her incentives enough.'

'I thought she was a free spirit. The way you always talked of her.'

'Well, yes, she is. But a little less free at the moment. And a whole lot richer.'

'Wasn't she in love with you?'

'Well, you saw her at the airport! I was never sure. She says she loves me as a friend. But as for being in love, I always had my doubts. And, anyway, three whole years have gone by.'

'Has she changed physically?'

'Like you Corina, very much to the better. She was exquisite.'

'And I assume she broke your heart again.'

'That goes without saying. Still, my heart has the robust ability to reassemble its broken bits and pieces, with the help of time, and to look forward to new heartbeats for other more worthwhile and less enslaving persons. I was looking forward so much to your visit Corina. I needed you so much.'

She looked at me keenly, hopefully. She also needed those words so much. She moved closer and kissed me on the mouth. Her hands on the sofa in front of her, supporting her leaning body. A touch of lips. A starting point, an invitation, a need expressed. I was dizzy and hopeful, stimulated yet at ease. I moved closer to her. I caressed her face, passed my fingers over her lips where I received another kiss. The seal of love. Now I was sure. I looked at her smile and moved to her mouth. She moved to mine. It was a common impulse, that first erotic kiss. That first encounter of our tongues. That first thrill, enchanting and magical.

'Oh Corina, I have wanted to kiss you for so long.'

'So did I. And I was fighting it because you were so young.'

'But you too are so young and passionate and vibrant.'

'Oh kiss me Michael.'

We kissed and kissed in all the variations we knew. The alcohol we had consumed dulled our senses and retarded our reactions but extended our endurance and pleasure. The need was not desperate or frantic and we took our time building up our passion. We kissed for fun and for love, for excitement and for smiles. Biting, licking and tasting human flesh. We undressed and kissed each other as intimately as can be contrived. Inhaling the odors of love and arousal, of movement and body. And after untold kisses and moans, gasps and cries, we went into my bedroom and onto my bed for a journey under the skin, in a land of manifold orgasms.

Just before dawn, I woke Corina up. We tottered to the living room and I helped her into her pajamas, which were lying on the sofa. I took her, pale and unsteady, to her room and tucked her in bed.

'Michael,' she said, 'I think I'm in love with you.'

'So am I with you. Sweet dreams my love.'

Nude and barefoot, I collected the bottles and put them in their cupboard and the glasses in the kitchen. I did not want Mohammed to start speculating on hob. I went to my room, put on my pajamas, flopped on my bed and, perhaps, passed out. Mohammed woke me up. He had prepared breakfast and was impatient to get over this part of his daily routine.

'Wake her up,' he urged me. 'I have work to do.'

'I can't wake her up. I can't just walk in her room.'

To appease him, I went and knocked on her door. It took a second knock before she opened.

'Good morning Corina. Breakfast is ready. Will you dress or do you want to sleep some more?'

'Good morning Michael. I'll dress.'

'I forgot to tell you yesterday, I would rather the servant did not suspect that there is anything between us. So let's be quite formal in his presence.'

I served her tea and noted the healthy appetite. 'Corina, do you diet at all? You are nice and thin.'

'And strong. No. I exercise a lot.'

'And strong and firm and, my God, who would have thought that coldly reserved woman I met on the flight from Boston three years ago would be so erotic.'

'Michael, I slept like a baby last night. All tensions dissipated.'

'I too, simply passed out. Drained.'

'I hope you recuperate fast.'

'I do, with a little encouragement.'

'You'll get plenty of that.'

'Tell me, Corina, it's already twelve o'clock what shall we do now?'

'Twelve? I think I'd better make some phone calls, fix my appointments and get the business out of the way so we can plan our little honeymoon. I might have to make a few lunch invitations. Would you mind? Not here, of course. At the Hilton. I'll keep the evenings free for us.'

'Of course I don't mind.'

'You see, negotiations have bogged down between the Ball-Betty and the Egyptian authorities and I am here for public relations. To find out how we can get them moving again, who can help, who has the power and if there are any requests that have to be dealt with discretion. If you know what I mean.'

Corina was superb. That first morning in Egypt, happy and relaxed, she made her contacts by telephone with the Antiquities Authority bureaucracy and for the next working week was busy meeting high ranking officials involved in the negotiations with the Ball-Betty Museum people. She tried to figure out the power structure she had to deal with, which was not always evident and figure out where the negotiations had snagged. She was bright and a fast learner. An impressive negotiator because she understood the unscrupulousness of the bureaucrats, which gave them a terrific advantage over the guileless Americans. They exercised the brinkmanship of the underdog who has nothing to lose. She flattered them by her invitations to the Hilton where she spared no expense to caress a class of people with considerable power and a derisory salary. Where an attempt to profit somehow on the side was, if not excusable, at least understandable. And she undoubtedly met some of their requests half way. I found her so very impressive during one of the lunches, which I happened to attend. Physically, tall and attractive, serious and intelligent, and while at times could be cold and reserved, in her work was charming and friendly with a low-key sense of humor that kept you smiling. She kept me smiling most of the time. Something that reflected her frame of mind in those, all too few, days she spent with me in Cairo.

It took all of a week for Corina to whip into shape the shambles of the Ball- Betty negotiating situation and obtain a measure of flexibility and good will from the Egyptian side. Objective achieved, we were now free to think of our little holiday or as Corina preferred to call it, little honeymoon. It was more than a mawkish sentiment. Corina had fallen in love with me. As for me, I fell in love with her love. Oh, I admired her, and desired her and found our lovemaking exhilarating and fulfilling. But more than that, I was seduced by the adoration she showed me. When we were alone, she was constantly touching me, caressing my face and my hair, holding my hand and kissing it. Embracing me and kissing me, not necessarily erotically. Hugging me at times so tightly with her well-trained arms that she choked my breath away and when I started gasping for air, half in jest and half in truth, she would let go saying, 'I love you that much.' Constantly telling me what a fine person I was. So much so, I nearly believed her. And once she told me, 'Michael, I feel so unbelievably lucky and so brazen and so unlucky.'

'At the same time?'

'Yes, my dear. Lucky to have found a lover so young and so vigorous who satisfies me sexually and emotionally so completely. Brazen because I could be your mother. If I had given birth to a son at twenty-three, I would now have a son of twenty- three. Just as we are. And so heartbreakingly unlucky to have you out of my reach. In every possible way. In time and distance and prospects. I dread the day we part. If there were a God, I would have called him a sadist. On fate, you cannot assign responsibility; you can just curse it. In truth, my life has not been unhappy but it has been unfair to give me glimpses of what it could have been.'

Adoration does not always beget adoration. It is a compliment that flatters but one does not necessarily love his flatterers. I loved Corina because she adored me and flattered me and in fact was superior to me. Just a little older. Love had made her soft, gentle and beautiful. And made me receptive, appreciative and responsive.