Paris, 1954
'Aren't you happy to finally be passing the reins of your burdensome chaperone to Miss Peake?'
Mark leered at me with a saucy grin as I moved across grass to the other side of the garden. We were attending a party thrown by one of Anna's well to do friends, out in the picturesque French countryside.
'Reins?' I looked at him, confused.
'Or, I daresay you'd call them "chains",' he laughed at his own joke.
'Chaperone...' I uttered with disgust. 'I'm twenty-three years old... I'm too old to have a nanny.'
'You should consider yourself lucky. You have a family who loves you.'
This was a surprisingly tender statement, coming from Mark.
'And you don't?' I asked, watching him as he perched on a stone urn.
'You think I'm hateful, don't you, Olivia? You think no one loves me...'
'Well, you certainly don't make it an easy endeavor...'
'You little bitch!' He stalked toward me, grabbing my arm. 'You self-righteous little bitch! I know all about you and that filthy black brute...'
'Take your hands off me,' I gave him an icy stare.
'You think you're so perfect, don't you?'
'Mark... you're hurting my arm,' I glared at him.
'What makes you think that I care?'
'I would think that you know how valuable it is to me... to all of us.'
'We don't need your bloody money!' he spit at me, pushing my arm away.
'That's a funny thing for a leech to say... I notice that you haven't been back to Africa in a few months.'
'I've been spending time with my wife. Is that against the law now?'
'What happened? Have they dug up all the diamonds already? Have they dug to the other side of the earth, only to come up in the bottom of my purse?'
He grabbed me again, infuriated by my sarcasm.
'You are so cold... that faΓ§ade that you put up for the public... it's all lies!'
'I have every right in the world to be cold! Look at my life! It's just empty and sad...'
'Oh, don't let's start the pity party again,' Mark rolled his eyes.
'Aren't you supposed to be spending time with your wife?' I asked him.
He set his jaw, angrily muttering under his breath as he turned away from me.
'Hello, hello!' A young Englishman ventured out to the garden, almost stumbling from the step down from the house. 'I say... It's a fine night out, isn't it?'
I walked past him, moving back into the house, 'I need another drink...'
'Well... wait a minute, I can fetch that for you... I was wondering if I could trouble you for an autograph...'
I turned to stare at him.
'I say... you've turned out all right. You're just as pretty as your magazine pictures.'
'Excuse me, I need to find...'
'Olivia... I can't believe that you don't remember me!'
I looked at him, annoyed that he was impeding my path to the next drink. He looked vaguely familiar to me, but I couldn't quite place him.
'I'll have to tell Uncle Gene that he's successfully transformed you into a haughty prima donna.'
'Chad?' I widened my eyes in disbelief.
'Yep. It's me... your old friend, Chadwicke.'
I slapped his face.
'Ouch! What the hell was that for?'
'For swiping my knickers all those years ago.'
'I thought you'd have forgotten about that... women! You all have the memory of an elephant.'
'Go and get me that drink... and don't do anything funny, like putting your finger in it, or spitting in the glass!'
'I shall return shortly,' he walked away, rubbing his cheek.
I walked back to the garden, wanting to avoid all the stares from the surprised partygoers. I sat on a long bench, and watched Chad as he ambled toward me toting a bottle, two glasses, and a bucket of ice.
'What's all this?'
'Well, I didn't want you to think that I was going to be your lackey, so I brought out the entire outfit, so that you can refill at your leisure.'
'Cheeky...' I scowled at him, taking a glass and filling it to the brim.
'Just so you'll know... I've poisoned the draught, to exact my revenge, of course.'
'With what, bad taste?' I frowned, finally noticing I was drinking whiskey instead of wine.
'Wasn't that what you were drinking?'
'Scotch? No! I was drinking wine...'
'Oh... sorry, Old Chap.'
'It's not so bad... it's just warm, that's all.'
'Some people drink it that way.'
'Plenty of drunks do, I'm sure.'
'Just put some of the ice in it... here,' he handed me a fresh glass.
'Thank you.' I looked at him for a moment, trying to figure how old he was. 'Are you allowed to drink now? How old are you?'
'Old enough,' he replied drolly.
'You're in university now, right?'
'I was...'
'You've dropped out?' I lowered my voice to a more conspiratorial tone.
'Well, you might say that.'
'What will Mr. Stanley say?'
'He doesn't know about it yet... and he doesn't need to know.'
'What are you doing now, since you're not in school?'
'I've been... traveling.'
'All on Uncle Gene's money, eh?' I finished off my glass.
'Not all... some of it's mine.'
'You're still a little devil...'
'I'm a bigger devil than before,' he raised an eyebrow.
'Ha!' I almost choked on my refreshed drink. 'You're surely not referring to that paltry bit of goods you have hidden in your trousers, are you?'
'Well, I'm a grown man, now... and my "paltry bit of goods" has developed into a full grown man's cock.'
'Cock. That's the last word I'd use to describe that thing... I'd have to stand right over it to get a good glimpse.'
'Wouldn't you like to?' he asked impishly.
'You may think I'm drunk... but I'm not that drunk.'
'Oh, come on! Be a sport, Liv!'
'I'm not going to chase you around this garden.'