The Call Girl And The Businessman Ch 10

Author's Note: Dear readers, the story of Lila and Matthias has come to an end. Thank you so much for being with me throughout this writing journey. I can only hope that it lives up to its predecessors. With lots of good wishes for Christmas and the new year, Lily

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Chapter 10 - Happiest When I Am With You

It was the low rumble of his deep breathing which I heard as a soothing hum; stirring my eyes open to the new world. The storm had ceased and the world was basking in the aftermath of the storm. It was neither dark nor bright; it was somewhere in between. The first subtle lights of dawn had yet to glaze the atmosphere with its tingling warmth. It was a world with unexplored boundaries; a world which was neither Heaven in nature nor Hell in form.

It was a world where the spirit encompassed the whole of who I was. It was free yet it had never been trapped, except of its own volition. The spirit dwelled deep in the crypts of my heart because it feared life but would not die; it feared death, but chose not to fully live; to let go of control. It embarked on life with feelings of apathy towards the potential of its existence. It had raged within itself; discontent yet it would rather be subservient to the mind. Reasoning was the cornerstone of the mind; and the more the mind reasoned; the more I adhered to the logic of standard rules.

The spirit in me was drawn to the life force of the man who had lain by my side. Now awakened fully, it had slowly but cautiously arisen from its dwelling in the crypts of my heart; the enclosure of its own volition. The man's deep breathing and the heaving of his chest against his striped linen pyjamas made the still bedroom air feel like home. His scent; the musky saturation enveloped me in a blanket of warmth. Mr. Boardmann's head was turned towards mine, in what looked like an uncomfortable angle. His eyes were closed; now they had not the power to pierce me with all the intensity which he alone possessed. His lips were slightly parted; brushing against the soft fabric of the velvet pillow.

Tenderly, I took him upon my gaze. He looked as vulnerable and as harmless as could be; and to think that I had been afraid of him! I knew he would never willingly harm nor hurt me. I knew that I had gained his trust and he had cared for me in his own unique way. Yet while I gazed at his sleeping profile, there was something about him which caused my heart to thump a little faster; almost in fear. There was an unease in my heart; I was now afraid for him; the untrodden paths which he would walk alone in the future where I was no longer by his side.

He was simply beautiful; in all ways a man could be structured in physiognomy. In my old, colourless world, I had seen him as a contrast of facial misnomers. His facial expression had been ghastly and menacing to me then. I wondered how so much could have changed in my perspective of him. This wondrous feeling called love had awakened me; no longer was I an automaton who saw the world in black or white. Now everything about him was endearing; even his bouts of temper and that masculine arrogance of his.

He had been right when he said that I would not have stayed the night had he not been overbearing. I would resist him half-heartedly; but deep down my spirit knew better how I really felt for him. I had to put up some semblance of resistance to placate my mind that it was actually easier not to protest. I was nevertheless grateful because he had been overbearing. It was because of this trait of his that I need not beg him to take me in for the night. I had this little ounce of pride left in me.

Gazing at him fondly beside me, I saw that he was asleep with his arms splayed upon my breast and stomach. Gently I raised his arm, placing it by his side. He fidgeted a little but his eyes stayed shut. I gazed at him, feeling calm; just absorbing how his lean body had curled up towards mine; how his legs had crouched upwards and his arms reaching out to claim me as if I belonged to him. Mostly I observed his face; fair but slightly rough at the edges, and his rather striking features; all these I thought I could never forget had I lived a hundred lifetimes.

We had started the night with the same duvet overlapping over our bodies. Whilst I was content to keep it there, he became unbearably warm later in the night. In his sleep he had started kicking the duvet down to his legs while I tried to pull it upwards for myself. Finally I had just taken the whole duvet for myself. For someone as warm-blooded as him, he could have gone to bed in the nude. Blood flowed to my face when I thought of it. I suddenly felt warm myself. Thank goodness for his unyielding preference for those long-sleeved, striped linen pyjamas.

I headed to the bathroom, freshened up and wore the same dress I did last night for want of other attire. I was light in my footsteps, having no wish to awaken him as it was much too early. I wanted to leave but not without saying goodbye because he had been very particular about it. I wrote him a note instead and placed it on the piano. It could do as a farewell message; at least he would be informed that I had left.

Mr. Boardmann, I will always treasure the times we had together. Your little minx

I saw that my piano book was on top of the piano so I took it along with me. I took one last look of the furnishings of the penthouse suite and headed to the door. Cautiously, I opened the door so as not to make a sound, remembering how loud it could be. I hesitated before I could bring myself to close the timbered door. Finally at the count of three, I managed pull myself away to quietly shut the heavy door behind me.

Walking down along the grand corridors, I thought of how surreal the moment seemed. Barely a few hours ago, the avant-garde beams had greeted me, and now they constituted my passage to an unknown world without him. In the elevator, I thought of his future with Clara. In the lobby, I thought of my own future.

Henry was there at the lobby; greeting me with the most professional smile I had ever seen yet.

"I had pleasant memories here." I said.

I tried to mimic his smile but my voice came out rather wobbly.

Henry noticed that I was wearing the same evening dress from last night. He looked at my hands, partially covered by my shawl, as though he was trying to discern what I held underneath. I had the piano book in my hands, and automatically I flipped the shawl aside to show him the book.

"There are plenty more fish in the sea." He said, in a friendly voice.

I looked at him, not comprehending a word. As I had expected him to say something related to books or music, it took me some time to realize what he was hinting about.

I had not taken his words seriously before; that doormen did know everything; and now he was like one of the biblical three wise men before me.

"It was never my intention to be saddled with one." I replied.

I answered cryptically as well but I was aware of how ridiculous my answer seemed.

Henry took my hands lightly in his; completely ignoring the book before him.

"I know who you are." He said.

His voice was low, and I saw a look in his eyes which I had never seen before. Not quite professional anymore.

"Pray, who am I?" I asked, feeling jittery.

I tried to straighten myself up and to speak in a composed voice worthy of my elegant evening dress although it was barely an hour before the sun would rise in the horizon.

"Eight years ago, there was a vagabond tramp who got himself involved in a gang fight. In the midst of it, he accidentally caused grievous bodily harm to an innocent bystander." He said.

I looked at him politely as I waited for him to continue, but inside of me, my heart was raging like a storm. I did not like suspense. They were worse than surprises. If he were indeed a wise man, then this was his parable for me. Try as I could, I could not catch the moral of the story.

"You got me acquitted, Lila, or should I say Ms Yuennan, as you were then known?" Henry said, finally breaking the air of suspense for me.

There was a long look of finality in his eyes.

My eyes widened. I remembered dabbling in Iegal aid services for those who could not afford legal representation. However I could not remember him at all. I had seen far too many people in his situation.

"I am sorry that I do not remember you. I should have." I said.

Instantly I felt bad about it.

I had volunteered pro bono services under the Bar Association's legal aid department because I needed variety in my work. Even then, I realised that too much company law made me cranky. I took a few criminal cases now and then. Each time a different accused stood in court, but the facts were almost always identical- it was either assault, battery or theft.

"It's alright that you do not remember me. After all, I was just another face you saw among the many crooks." Henry said.

He smiled kindly at me but his eyes were shrouded with a sudden gauzy film.

I was touched that he was not the least offended that I did not remember him. The fact that he was being emotional about it made my chest feel heavy.

"You gave me a new lease in life. Had you not defended me, I would be in for a jail term, and ex-convicts face a hard time at the job market." He said.

"Henry, I am glad that you were acquitted. Has life been treating you well?" I asked.

"Yes. After my acquittal, you told me that things can change. You needn't have to, but you went out of your way. You put various organizations in touch with me, and the rest was history. Here I stand before you today." He said.

He spoke with appreciation for something which I had done in the past and which I could not remember. The gauzy film in his eyes was still apparent. He ignored it but it moved me to see. I had made an impact in his life. In the course of my legal aid work, all I remembered were different people accused of different crimes and it was the offences which I remembered more than the personalities behind them. I worked like clockwork then. Case in, case out...

I started to stare at Henry. A realization came upon me then. He was more than the offence he committed.

"Wait, didn't you use to have long hair which you tied up in a ponytail and a full beard?" I asked.

"Yes, I was the homeless, dishevelled Santa." He said.

His smile was genuine and the gauzy film in his eyes gave way to a single tear which he rapidly blinked away.

"I guess I do remember you." I said, also with a smile.

For a while, we stood looking at each other. Then we looked around us in the empty lobby and beyond the glass panels. Autumn was cold and stormy; there was barely light outside; yet a streak of faint glow tremored in the darkness. It yearned to break free from the darkness. Dawn was sieving through the atmosphere; subtly and unobtrusively.

"Why did you not say a word?" I asked.

"I wondered if you wanted to be reminded of me. I figured that since you did not recognize me and were in a different line of work now, maybe I should just keep it to myself." He answered.

He looked at me with an empathetic expression on his face, neither forcing an answer nor seeking one.

Yet it was always kindness which took my heart away.

"I thought I wanted to have nothing to do with the past, but now I'm not sure what I want to do anymore." I said, as a matter of fact.

There was a stillness around me suddenly. I absolutely had no idea what I wanted to do now but I realized that what the future held for me depended on the path I set for myself. Possibilities were there if I trusted myself to take a leap of faith.

"Lila, I am living testimony to your deeds." Henry said.

There was a firmness in both his eyes and voice.

"Thoughts must have crossed your mind about this path I have chosen for myself." I said.

I spoke haltingly without intending to. This was a difficult subject for me.

"Yes." He said.

His answer was a dignified monosyllable but it sounded harsh to my ears.

"I fell upon hard times. I have a defect of reason." I said.

Strange that I would start using legal definitions now that the past came flooding into me in gushes; in waves; finally they rose into a huge tsunami which could not be held back. I was pleading so hard for the defence of insanity upon myself.

Henry looked at me kindly.

"You think too much. Back then and now." He said, in a serious tone of a voice.

"How would you know how I think?" I asked.

A wary smile formed on my lips. Even the wisest man could not possibly know how complex my thoughts were.

"From my own experience with you, I saw how much you fussed over me, thought about everything, even making contingency plans when I should not even concern you at all. Don't get me wrong; I do owe my wellbeing to you. In fact, I think you are doing the same for that client of yours; Mr. Boardmann." He said.

He spoke as a matter of fact, but his eyes were just full of kindness.

I did not answer because it was true, and I did not know if he took it as an ideal characteristic to have. I looked down because his eyes were too kind for me to take in. It made me feel bouts of emotion, all churning in my heart.

"You are an angel, Lila." He said.

Again that word associated with celestial beings.

I had allowed Mr. Boardmann to call me his angel. Could I allow another to call me the same?

But I decided not to argue. If two people were calling me angel, there must be some truth in it, or maybe both had a defect of reason. If it were the former, then I should do well to keep my mouth shut. If it were the latter, then there was no point in me arguing with the insane.

"Whatever your name, however you want to be called, you're still the same person. What matters is you see your worth, no matter what you do." He said.

"I sleep with rich men for money now. I get more than I do from a law firm without having to crack my brains. That must be worth something." I said.

I did not know why I said that. It sounded crude, but yes, it was what I was doing now. And why was Henry speaking in this manner? It made me think unnecessarily. I had always wanted to know, did not like to be kept groping my way out of an ambiguous statement. In the past, I needed answers; and better still- standard answers. Now I tried hard to avoid thinking about the validity of anything which I had to say. Needless to say, it was difficult trying to control my thoughts.

"Do that- continue sleeping with men, or do anything you want, it doesn't matter really. As long as it gives you joy." Henry said.

Joy. It was a strong word.

My mind went blank.

"I should be going now." I said, feeling uneasy.

"Where to?" Henry asked.

"To the sea." I said.

"Wait till the sun comes out. It's still dark. There is frost on the boulevard. It froze overnight despite the storm." He said.

I shook my head.

"I'm used to sneaking out on clients. I can find my way around in the dark." I said.

I bid Henry a farewell for the present, even though I would never see him again. I wished him all the best for the future. He smiled, raised my hands to his lips and gently planted a perfunctory kiss on them.

"That's a novel way of saying goodbye." I said.

I smiled as I commented on his gesture.

"To me, you never left, Lila. That's why I still remember you." He said.

My eyes widened while my heart sank; partly in sorrow and partly because the spirit within was moved beyond words.

"Thank you, Henry, for your kind words. I won't ever forget you now." I said.

As the words left my lips, I toughened my heart to stay on track. One last glance at Henry, one last glance at the penthouse suite, and then I was a miniscule creature below the grand marble arch entrance of the penthouse suite; the residence of the wealthy in the suburbs.

Then I took a few steps further to the boulevard ahead of me. I dared not turn back for I might just change my mind and run back to Mr. Boardmann's suite; knocking like crazy on his door, begging him to let me in.

With some effort, I climbed over the barrier separating the boulevard pavement and the shore. It was difficult to lift my feet in the dainty evening dress which restricted my natural movement. The soft hue of light guided me, making contours of shapes visible but for the rest of the journey which sloped down to shore, I walked according to feel rather than sight. I had taken this route many times to the extent that I could picture my beloved surroundings with my eyes closed. There were many rocks and I was careful not to jag the edges of my flowy dress against them.

The breeze became more volatile the further I left the boulevard. I walked amongst the sturdy willows; saw the herons in their nests and a few destroyed nests from yesterday's storm. I saw no dead herons; I would like to think that they had escaped. Quietly as not to awaken the sleeping ones, I walked towards the coastline. Sand made its way into my ballet flats, causing my skin to feel its rough friction against my flats, but I was too determined to be distracted by it.

I placed the book on a high rock. Then I walked towards the rising tide. I saw waves; its crests subtle and light in movement. How much the weather had changed since yesterday. When it hit shore, the waves ebbed gradually away; leaving masses of foam which was strikingly bright against the dark landscape. The foam was bubbly and white, and I thought I had never seen such an intense shade of white before. Before I proceeded further, I flung off my ballet flats towards the willows should they get soiled.

Now, at the edge of land and sea, I looked ahead of me with my gaze on the horizon. The sun had yet to shine and the moon yet to fade away. Earth was neither dark nor bright; it was somewhere in between; they were shades of grey which eclipsed me from sight; also the same shades of grey which unobscured my view. Nature was transitioning and these were the moments between spaces of time. They were devoid of categorization. Only tousled, romantic poets succumbed to describe fleeting moments; along with the neurotic in me who felt like a poet but could not describe. Only the neurotic could feel more than the poets. Too much detail made classifications a burden; and words were a burden when all one could do was feel.

I felt that I was here; I knew I was here; I could feel my joy and my sorrow; everything and nothing flashed before me. I brushed the flapping shawl away from my chest and touched the icy cold moonstone at my neck. Where I touched with my hands, my skin flinched. My hands were cold; always had been. The low temperature and the frosty sand did not help. Against the breeze, I lifted my hair with one hand and with the other, tried to unlatch my moonstone necklace.

In my palms, the moonstone gleamed a little in the light that was neither dark nor bright. I pressed my lips against it; thinking of nothing but the present moment; I felt my bare feet in the shallow waters; at one with the cold waves. I felt how the shawl flapped against the wind; hitting me back at my arms. I felt how my hair blew straight into my face; obscuring my view. I felt the weight of the world in a tiny moonstone; a stone which had been with me throughout my life, dangling in front of me like a sacred pendant.

Gazing at the stone, I knew I could no longer keep it. That time had passed. I wanted to move on, and the stone reminded me of all that was; the pain, the joy, the sorrow. It was too heavy a symbolic weight to carry around with me. I stared at it, jolted back to the day I bought it from the market for a few baht. I remembered asking the peddler what kind of stone it was; he said that that it was a replica of a moonstone. I was Duanphen; named after the full moon. I ought to have it, I thought.