Taing the Ris: Misha's Story

For those that wanted to know more about Misha before he met Froo, here is his story and how he came to be in England which is where he met her and fell in love,, and his time with Suzanne the woman in his past.

His passion for Suzanne becomes an obsession, as she plunges down into a self destructive whirlpool, so for those that believe that life's many experiences make up a rich and interesting tapestry....here is Misha's story.

To read about Misha and Froo please read the companion story Taking the Risk Chapter's 1-21 under Novels and Novella's.

*

A couple of days later Misha and Tom stood in the show apartment looking around during a viewing, the salesman pointing out the added extra's that would come with one if purchased. "The first phase will be finished in the New Year, the second phase six months later. When are you thinking of moving over to the UK?"

Misha walked towards the living area window, looking over his shoulder at the blond haired man, "Sometime next summer, maybe around August." He looked out of the window onto the fields behind the development, "Will the new block have apartments that look out over the open field area?"

"Yes. If you come into the office I can show you the plans, they'll show which apartments have the best views. How many bedrooms are you looking at?"

"Not sure yet, but at least two, maybe three."

Tom walked over to stand next to Misha. "You're serious about this Misha! You really are thinking of moving over here to Guildford?"

Nodding he replied to his cousin, "Yeah. I really am thinking of moving over here Tom. Thanks to Gammy's generous present to us of her inheritance I can use it to help start up my own Video Production Company. I'll start small and build it up. I've got plenty of ideas, and working for my Uncle has allowed me to learn all aspects of the business. I'm going to pitch it to him to back me for part shares in it and move over here to live in Guildford near all of you and my mom. Planning should take six or seven months."

His cousin laughed, "Wow, when you get an idea you really go for it, full steam ahead."

"Yeah...." Walking over to the main bedroom and standing looking at the large double bed he said almost to himself, but loud enough for Tom to hear, "The only thing I have to convince is a certain large part of the whole plan that she has to leave New York and the States and come over here with me."

Later that day Misha sat on the bed holding his grandmothers hand, "What do you think Gammy? Think I'm mad?"

"No Mikhail. I think you're really growing up at last and striking out to be your own man. I'm proud of you, and I'm glad to hear my gift to you is going to be used well. You have my blessing." Raising up his hand to her lips and kissing it she told him, "When your mother fell in love with your father and left I told her this. Don't look back, never look back, and only ever look forward. Because that's where your future happiness lays, and Misha I'm going to tell you the same. Take every chance and opportunity in life, or you will always wonder what could have been, instead of what has been."

"Thank you Gammy. I love you."

"And I love you too darling. But I'm getting tired, and the nurse will be here soon to give me my next dose of drugs.....so be a Dear and let me get some rest now." smiling she told him, "How about that, I'm seventy nine and at my time of life becoming a drug addict. I can't wait for my next shot."

But Misha's smile was forced. He looked at the woman in bed, frail and getting weaker each day, her face pinched with pain, the sparkle gone from her eyes and lent over kissing her cheek. "Next thing you'll be asking me to take you clubbing Gammy."

*

Sitting in the departure lounge at Gatwick surrounded by people milling around, either shopping in the Duty Free shops, reading the digital departure board, or sitting bored in the rows of uncomfortable chairs, Misha sat, legs sprawled out, his overhead bag at his feet, a pad of paper in his hand, writing down and making his plans.

During his week visiting he had been busy, phoning up agents to get on their lists to find an office, asking advice from his cousins on the best places to set up, Researching on Tom's computer with regards the licences, permits and such like he would need to get in place. Checking prices of other apartments in Guildford although he decided he really liked the one he had seen, and asked the young salesman to send him some information nearer the completion date.

He felt excited and as he worked on his figures he could see a future for himself, one that would be hard work, but worth it. One that would include Suzanne, in a place that would be healthier for her, away for the club scene and the drug suppliers that she had made contact with in New York, a life where she could carry on with her acting classes, feel safe and protected, where he could look after her and help her to grow into a more confident person.

Hearing his flight called he gathered up his bag, stuffing the pad and pen into it and started the walk towards the departure gate, not noticing the stares and giggles of the group of three girls in their early twenties admiring him, giving him the once over.

*

Dragging his case and bag up the stairs towards his apartment, he was on a high. The plane journey back went fast as he worked on his ideas and plans, and he couldn't wait to talk to Suzanne and see how she felt. Aware that she might be resistant he had thought about a plan and how to sell her on the idea, and he was dying to tell her and see if she would go for it.

Opening the door the first thing that hit him was the smell. Sweet and cloying mixed in with the smell of rotting food.

Next came the sound of laughter from the bedroom.

Male laughter.

Male laughter mixed with a female voice. Soft and low, and very familiar.

A cold flush went through his body as he stood in the entrance by the door, his case forgotten. His eyes burnt as he walked slowly towards the slightly ajar bedroom door, his body suddenly feeling heavy and wooden, his arms heavy as they pushed it further open.

They lay there on his bed, Suzanne naked, her body sprawled, legs spread, the man, skinny with naked backside kneeling between her thighs, his bare back with a tattoo on his shoulder facing Misha who was standing staring at the pair from his place by the door. Glaring at them in silence he watched as Suzanne noticed him, sitting up slowly from where she lay, the smile on her mouth dropping to a petulant frown.

"Sugar, I didn't think you were back until Friday/"

"It is Friday!"

The man turned around and then leapt off the bed, his skinny body facing Misha, his pinched face half hidden by a goatee beard, his black hair spiky and messy. "Wow man...this is not what it looks like."

Misha stood rooted to the spot, the anger rising in him, his fists starting to bunch at his sides. "Get out of here....NOW." he snarled at the man, who scampered past him and out the door, only to return a second later to bend down and grab his clothes off the floor and go back out.

Hearing the door slam behind him, Misha looked down at Suzanne, "It looks like what it is Suzanne. It smells of sex in the room, and it's not week old sex, it very, very recent. It's nearly hidden by the stink of the grass and the unwashed plates, but I can smell it."

Sitting completely up she looked at him, "So what sugar. I didn't have any money and needed some stuff. What other way was I going to pay him, he's my supplier and it was an easy way!"

It was as if she had hit him in the gut. He felt sick. "How long has this been going on Suzanne?" he asked in a studied voice, the muscles along his jaw jumping.

Getting up she walked past him to the dressing table and picked up a spliff, starting to light it. "Not long, if you had left me some more money I wouldn't have done it. It's your fault."

Stalking over and grabbing the joint out of her mouth and then grabbing her arms he shook her, "You bitch. You FUCKING bitch. I've just left seeing my dying Grandmother for the last time, and you're here getting high and screwing with some sleazy piece of shit on our bed, and you FUCKING BLAME ME!"

Pushing her backwards so that she fell onto the bed, her legs hanging down, and her hair spread around her, he stood looking down at her, "I'm going to John's for the night. I want you out of here when I come back. Take as much as you can, and I'll get the rest to where ever you lay your fucking whore's body from now on.... PISS OFF."

Storming out of the apartment, he ran downstairs and hailing a cab made his way over to John's, his mind whirling, his heart breaking, his plans falling around him like ashes.