Strings Attached

part 6

by Mrs. Eyre



The journey back to the hotel had started in silence, a silence broken, uncharacteristically, by Damir.

"She seems ... nice.”

"Yes, very nice," said Tatijana, adding, after the briefest of pauses "Considering.”

"Considering what?" Ivica asked.

"Considering he didn't tell her we were coming."

"He what?" Ivica roared with laughter.

"And considering" continued Damir "that you were bullying her.”

"I was not". Ivica lit a cigarette which Tatijana removed from his mouth and, rolling down the window, threw out of the cab. "No smoking" she said, nodding at the sign. Ivica sighed, theatrically. "I hate this country".

"Don't change the subject.”

"That wasn't bullying. That was just ... banter.”

"Banter my arse!"

"Damir!"

"Well. She was obviously terrified. Talking about her mother ... her drinking.”

"Eh, if Luka was too stupid to tell her -"

"That's not the point. You didn't go out of your way to make her feel welcome.”

"It's not what I do.”

"No kidding."

"I did try.”

"You did not. You enjoyed watching her squirm.”

"Well you didn’t exactly hang out the flags either, did you? Anyway, she didn't squirm. She held her own pretty well. I like her.”

"You see! You were testing her."

Another sigh.

"Poor woman. And now she has to babysit you tomorrow.”

"They'll fight over this. Her and Luka". said Tatijana quietly.

"Storm in a teacup.”

"That's not for you to say. This is early days for them, it was difficult before and they don't need you making trouble. All you had to do was be polite, but no, you had to go at her like an elephant in a glass factory."

"I didn't make trouble. Ye gods, we didn't arrive on his doorstep unannounced, he should have told her.”

The complete undeniability of this silenced them until Damir asked "Does she love him, do you think?" His wife looked at him, frowning a little.

"You think not?"

Damir shrugged. "I can't tell. It was hard to see past her terror" he said, directing his last comment pointedly at his father.

"I'll ask her, shall I?" retorted Ivica, "Tomorrow, between the Picassos and the Hoppers?"

"Don't get sarcastic with me."

"Tell me, Miss Lockhart, what exactly are your intentions toward my son?" Ivica whined.

"Oh stop it, both of you. All you have to do tomorrow is show her some kindness."

"And manners" added Damir.

"Manners," Ivica grumbled, "She's American, what does she know about manners?"

"More than you apparently." said Tatijana. "Just ... remember that Luka has made this difficult for her - more difficult than it has to be. If you can't do it for her do it for him."

"Just behave yourself, Tata" threw in Damir for good measure.

"You don't think much of my inter personal skills do you, son?"

"I don't think of them at all, you have none. Just try not to scare her. What if she looks at you and sees Luka in 25 years time? She'll run screaming into the lake with never a backward glance."

"You think I can't do this, don't you? I can, I can do it, I'll surprise you yet." said Ivica as the cab pulled up at the hotel. He got out, followed by Tatijana, and lit a cigarette, inhaling hungrily. Damir pulled out his wallet.

"I'll get this then."

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

"Leave the mini bar alone, it'll cost a fortune". Ivica shut the door on Damir, dropped his key on the nightstand and threw himself crosswise onto his bed. Reaching into his coat pocket his fingers closed around the smooth metal of his hip flask. Prising off his shoes he tugged at the tie which Tatijana had made him wear. And she called him a bully. She’d sent him to get his hair cut too. What more did they want of him? She was Luka’s girlfriend, not the Queen of fucking England.

The television flickered into life at the behest of the remote control. After toying with the idea of the adult movie channel he flipped through the rest, an endless succession of perfect smiles interspersed by the odd grainy policier. Sighing with disgust he turned off the set and stared morosely at the ceiling.

“””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””

“Is it the toiletries, do you think, or something they use for cleaning?”

“What?”

”That hotel smell.”

”No idea. “

”But they do all smell alike, don’t they?”

“I suppose so. We should take the shower gel and shampoo home for Anna. And the shower cap.”

”That’s stealing.”

”Of course it isn’t. Bath robes, towels, ash trays – that’s stealing. Shall I scrub your back?”

”No. I’m comfortable like this.” Tatijana leaned back against her husband, warm scented water adding to the haze of the dinner time wine and robbing her of the will to move. “When we move we should get a bath like this.”

”Sure. Anything else? Steam room, Jacuzzi, servants’ quarters?”

”No, just the bath. I’m not a greedy woman.”

“We’ll have the sea.”

”Not the same” she said, running a hand up his calf. “How long since we haven’t had the kids around at night?”

Damir smiled, resting his chin on the top of her head. “Forever.”

“Think these rooms are soundproofed?” She twisted in his arms to smile up at him.

“I don’t know; why?”

”Because,” she said, insinuating her hand below the water line “your father is next door.”

“Just like old times” he smiled, before catching his breath and her precise meaning at one and the same moment.

“””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””

He wanted a cigarette, but the no smoking signs mocked him from the walls of his room. Ivica considered lighting up anyway but could already imagine the mortification of Damir’s disapproval if the nicotine police dragged his father out of his room in disgrace at midnight.

They were right, Tatijana and Damir, of course they were, he’d behaved badly. But he’d seen, from the moment they arrived at the table, that Abby was angry with Luka and his own anger, easily roused, had surfaced. He’d heard her sotto voce “Sonofabitch”, seen the hostility in her glance.

How was he to know Luka hadn’t told her?

Well, he could see it now, her fear doing battle with her anger for supremacy. He didn’t know which had won out, but closed his eyes and groaned. Well done, Ivica, well done. He wondered if she had seen his own fear, his terror of this woman who held his son’s life in her hands. His son who had left with her, his son who hadn’t told her that his family was here to visit, to meet her. He felt terribly uneasy. What was it about them which meant he couldn’t tell her? Another pull at the hip flask and his thoughts changed gear. Or what was it about her?

“””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””

“How about some champagne?”

“Too expensive. Anyway, we’d never manage a whole bottle and be fit for anything in the morning.”

”There’s a half bottle in the bar thing.”

”Even more expensive.”

”Eh, let’s live a little.” Damir brought a hand down on his wife’s backside with a satisfying slap.

“Ouch” she said, without much conviction.

“Plastic cups OK?”

“Have to be,” she mumbled into her pillow. Damir climbed back into bed, resting the bottle on the small of her bare back.

“You are a pig, Damir Kovac” she whined. He leaned close to her ear.

“That’s not what you were calling me 10 minutes ago” he murmured.

”I wasn’t thinking clearly 10 minutes ago.”

”Evidently. Contrary to appearances this is not particularly cold. Come on, sit up.” Damir rested against the headboard and surveyed the wreckage of the bed with some satisfaction. He didn’t suppose his brother would be getting any tonight and for a second he allowed himself a spiteful little thrill of schadenfreude. He was immediately ashamed. “Do you think I should call?”

“Call who?” She knew who.

“Luka.”

“No.”

“No?”

“Think about it. If they’ve made up they may be … occupied. And if they haven’t – well, how much do you think he’s going to want to talk about it to you over the ‘phone?”

“This isn’t like you.”

”What?”

”I’d have thought you’d have been the first to tell me I should be concerned.”

”So you should. But this is for them to sort out. If this can’t be fixed they were never going to amount to much.”

“Why do you suppose he didn’t tell her?”

“He’s afraid. Look, this is new for him all this. He can’t change overnight.”

“But he should know her by now – know her enough not to be afraid of her.”

”Why? You think you know everything there is to know about me?”

“I’ll never know everything about you.”

“So there you are. And this is complicated, right?”

“Apparently.” Damir sipped not very cold champagne as his wife nestled against him.

“We’re not, though, are we? Complicated? I mean, I love you, love the kids, always will.”

”Luka was uncomplicated once.”

”Until life intervened.”

”You’re very alike.”

“Are we?”

“Loyal, honest, stubborn, a predisposition to sentimentality when in drink,” She paused before continuing “Highly sexed –“

“What? How do you - “

“- gullible.”

“Ha ha. Want me to enumerate your qualities?”

“As long as they start with highly sexed.”

“””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””

It was only after Ivica had put his shoes back on and made his way down to the bar where he drank three large vodkas and almost wept with gratitude when he found he could smoke that he began to feel a little more positive.

So. She was afraid; he was afraid. And Luka? Was he afraid too? He knew the answer to that. But of what? Of her? Of losing her? If he could make sense of this he’d know what to do, how to speak to her tomorrow, know whether he needed to fear her himself. He remembered Luka’s anxious gaze over Abby’s head, and only now recognised what it had been saying to him, only now registered the meaning of his hands settled on her shoulders. “Be careful of her, Tata”. Luka wasn’t afraid of her; he was afraid for her. Ivica laughed aloud then, his only companion in the bar looking nervously at him.

“Buy you a drink?” Ivica asked expansively. He was aware that his accent was probably impenetrable thanks to the vodka.

“No – no thank you. I have to, uh, I have to leave now”

Ivica watched as the portly, flabby little man beat a hasty retreat.

“No? Well, how about you, Kovac? You have one?"

Don’t mind if I do, you old bugger, don’t mind if I do.

“””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””

She was beyond hearing, sound asleep, snoring lightly. Still, he bent low over the ‘phone as he dialled and held his breath, waiting for a reply. Please let there be no reply.

“Luka Kovac.”

”Luka.”

”Damir?”

“Are you alone?” A pause.

“Yes.”

 

to part 7

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