The Scandalous Life of Sasha Torte

by Lesley Truffle

  Hildegarde reeled backwards, her face a mask of frozen fear. The door flew open and Viola crashed back into the room. As I spun around to address her, I caught my heel in the hem of my peignoir and lost my footing. ‘Whoops, oh nooooooo!’

  I plunged off the window ledge, watched by two pairs of startled eyes.

  There are so many ways to slip from the mortal coil. It’s a difficult choice to make. Poisoning? Drowning? Pistol? Knife? Illicit pharmaceuticals? Or is it simply kinder to let your loved ones think your suicide was accidental?

  Death became a certainty and time was suspended. It was as though I’d already ceased to exist. On my way down I had time to admire the Grand Hotel de Pera’s interiors while flashing past several windows. My God, such opulence. And such intense regret that I was leaving it all behind. I caught a quick glimpse of a maid’s shocked face as she set out an elaborate silver coffee service. I admired the sunlight glinting on the crystal droplets of a chandelier. A naked young man was shaving himself in front of an open window and he gave me a startled glance as I shot past. I yearned to lick the beads of moisture from his smooth brown chest. Too late, too late. Matters of the flesh fell away and ecstasy gripped me. There was no fear, instead I experienced the relief of yielding to nothingness.

  But the gods were not done with me yet. One moment I was plummeting downwards towards the finality of death and the next – suspended on a massive Turkish carpet, held aloft by about thirty strapping Turks. I’ve no idea how Viola assembled the hotel’s manservants so swiftly. Her ability to command is the stuff of legend.

  There I lay, with my legs indecorously splayed. I was flat on my back in the middle of the Grand Hotel de Pera’s foyer carpet, being studied with interest by the entire metropolis. Having lost my peignoir on the way down, I was completely naked. My body had responded favourably to the Turkish sunshine, making my nipples rosy and shamelessly alert. In homage to my blatant nudity, a few of the younger manservants had prominent erections tenting their loose trousers. It was terribly flattering of course but one simply did not know where to look.

  I was still clutching the bottle and hadn’t spilt one single drop of champagne. It definitely wasn’t my finest hour but France’s honour was still intact. Vive la France!

  I knew what had to be done. I glanced at the stunned faces around me, took a final swig of Veuve Clicquot and judiciously passed out.

  24

  DANGEROUS BONNE FEMME

  Languishing at the Grand Hotel de Pera in the care of a pompous European physician, it was difficult to regain a grip on reality. Small wonder, given I was lying in a darkened room and being fed unlimited quantities of opium. My trusty elixir was always kept within reach and when it ran out someone would fetch me another bottle. I experienced acute melancholia and was haunted by Captain Dasher. The loose black curl on his forehead. His lazy half smile. Gone.

  Viola was in a frenzy. She did the rounds of the foreign community, trying to find a psychiatrist who might know how to heal me. It was a pity that Dr Sigmund Freud was not on hand. Meanwhile Hildegarde sought information on Captain Dasher’s disappearance. I had no more words to say and stopped talking. I just lay there pining for death and the gargoyle had his way with me. At night he pinned me in his icy embrace and wouldn’t let go. I knew it was only a matter of time before my body released me. I challenged the Grim Reaper, I’ve had enough. Just come and get me and be done with it.

  Another week slipped by, and then out of the blue, blue Sea of Marmara came a miracle. Captain Adam Dasher sailed in. Battle weary but unharmed and in rude good health. He promptly knocked the false teeth of my physician down his throat and assumed full responsibility for my medical care.

  My captain’s first act was to flush all stimulants and opiates down the drain. Hildegarde helped him by finding all my stashed bottles. The door to my bathing room was open and I became hysterical when I realised what Adam was up to. When he tore open the Louis Vuitton trunk containing Dr Farrell’s Patented Life-giving Health Tonic I flung myself at him and wrapped my arms around his neck. ‘Adam, please don’t. I can do without the other pharmaceuticals but my life depends on this health tonic. I need it. I can’t do without it. I shall go mad without it.’

  Adam looked perplexed. ‘Surely you don’t expect me to believe that this potion is life restoring? How fucking stupid do you think I am, Sasha? Dr Grubb, my ship’s doctor, has already filled me in. The only reason Farrell lives in Paris is because he dare not show his face in London. The man is known to be a charlatan and a criminal.’

  I clung fast so he couldn’t get to the elixir. ‘Adam, don’t do this to me.’

  He flipped me around and jerked my arms up behind my back. ‘I need you to get serious about your health. Grubb is on his way and he’ll give you something to get you through the next couple of days. After that it’s going to be total abstinence for you, my love.’

  He’d never handled me roughly before and I was stunned. This was a different Adam. He yelled, ‘Hil, pass me that dressing gown cord!’

  Adam bound my hands behind my back and pushed me back down onto the bed. I felt so helpless that I burst into tears. Viola tried to calm me down by holding me tight. I thought I didn’t deserve her kindness and it made me feel guilty.

  One by one Adam poured three bottles of elixir down the sink. The full horror of what he was doing made me desperate. I wanted to stop him. I waited until Viola was called away and Adam’s back was turned. Then I quietly squirmed off the bed, rushed into the bathing room and sank my teeth into his bare forearm. Hard. Adam let go of the two bottles he was holding. They crashed to the tiles and splashed upwards, drenching us both in sticky elixir.

  He shook me off and I cowered against the sink, crying hot tears of remorse. I’d ripped into my lover’s flesh like a rabid dog and knew my actions to be those of a madwoman. Adam picked me up and threw me back down on the bed. He turned to Hildegarde. ‘Hil, please fetch me some hard liquor. Anything will do.’

  Dr Grubb arrived and swiftly assessed the situation. He whipped open his medical bag, fiddled with a phial and jammed a loaded syringe into my arm. Within minutes I calmed down. It was only then that Adam undid the cord that was biting into my wrists. I couldn’t look him in the face. I was so ashamed that I tried to hide under the bedclothes.

  Adam remained silent as Dr Grubb cleaned his wound and bandaged his forearm. The drinks trolley was wheeled in and everyone had a stiff drink except for me. I knew without asking that from now on all legal and illegal drugs were verboten.

  The captain downed a tot of whisky and poured himself another. I still couldn’t look him in the face. Adam was my man and yet I’d viciously wounded him when he was trying to help me. I was mortified.

  He glanced at me. ‘It’s all right, Sasha. I understand. Clearly you are not yourself.’

  The next morning Adam ripped the bedcovers back and held my face so I had no choice but to look him straight in the eye. ‘Sasha, you will take your orders directly from me and no one else. I gave you too much rope and you have well and truly hung yourself. Tell your demons not to fuck with me. I intend to win this battle. I fought my way here because I can’t live without you and Lil Kane woke me up one night to tell me that you were slowly killing yourself.’

  I struggled to sit up and he gave me his hand. ‘Adam, do you mean you saw Lil?’

  ‘Yes. She was wearing a voluminous greatcoat and not much else. You know, I’ve seen many ghosts in my time but she’s definitely the most ravishing. Lil said, “see you soon”, as she departed. So I assume she’ll be attending our wedding.’

  ‘Oh, how wonderful! Adam, I want you to know that I’m embarrassed and guilt-ridden because of what I did to you.’

  He pinned me to the mattress and locked eyes with me. ‘Sasha, never forget this; no matter what you do, I will always love you. But I will not be your fool. I suspect that in my absence you’ve developed a taste for rough trade. But we don’t have to discuss your recent lovers right now.�
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  I was stunned. ‘How did you know?’

  He shrugged. ‘My men are everywhere, even in Soho bawdy houses. Don’t forget, my sweet, the Dasher Trading Company spans the globe. We have ships operating out of all the main European ports. Australia is chicken feed compared to our company holdings all over Europe.’

  ‘Oh, God.’

  I could tell he was enjoying having the upper hand. ‘In fairness I should admit that I was impressed to hear about your ability to drink the most virile Russian officer in the joint under the table. He’d never been felled in battle before.’

  My mind spun backwards. ‘Vladimir Barishnov. Christ. What else did you hear?’

  ‘Much more than I wanted to, my sweet. You’ve been spreading your charms around haven’t you? Did you know that after you fucked young Vladimir during that blizzard he got pneumonia? Don’t worry, he survived. Although by all reports, he’s still broken hearted. I pity him. Tangling with you would finish off most blokes.’

  ‘You know everything!’

  He grinned. ‘As you once said to me, “you must never insult my intelligence”. Did you know I receive regular dispatches of back copies of The Times from our London office?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Imagine my delight on discovering you now have a sonata written in your honour. I understand that when Jesse Marlow performed his new masterpiece, “The Sasha Sonata,” at the Royal Albert Hall, he wept openly at the keyboard. There were endless standing ovations and the critics raved. That’s the problem with these highly strung intellectuals, they have no discretion. Not like your coachman. Eddie Feeny is a true gentleman. Very close mouthed. So unless he chooses to write a memoir, your secrets should be safe.’

  I had no words.

  Adam looked me straight in the eye. ‘But do keep in mind, my sweet, that I believe, what’s sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander. Besides, I myself have not been monogamous in your absence. As I once told you, we are bound together for all eternity and there will be no turning back. Even if, God forbid, I should die before you.’

  Adam plucked me out of the bed. I was naked but he didn’t give a shite. He just rolled me in a sheet and flung me over his shoulder. I immediately knew he was sending me a very clear message. It was a statement not a request. From now on he was going to be tougher on me. He was my captain and if I didn’t quickly adapt to the new regime, he’d punish me accordingly.

  Adam pulled the bell sash to summon a porter. ‘There’s no time to waste. Viola and Hildegarde are packing. We leave for Tasmania on the next tide.’

  Adam flung me onto his ship still wrapped in the hotel sheet and the gargoyle crept on board too. Despite my parlous state I realised we’d boarded a new ship called the Sasha. A wooden carving of a voluptuous, bare-breasted sea siren with flowing red hair adorned the prow. She resembled me right down to the dark beauty spot on her left cheek. Adam glanced at me but said nothing and I felt suitably chastened.

  Hildegarde was delighted. ‘The first mate told me the Marietta was sold and she now plies her trade as a grubby frigate out of India. The crew superstitiously believe the Marietta was cursed because she’d been renamed.’

  ‘I want to know something, Hil, and don’t try to fob me off. What was the Marietta originally called?’

  I got the distinct impression she didn’t want to own up, so I gave her the cold fisheye stare until she gave in. ‘The Marietta was originally the Rosamund. Adam fell for a Venetian ballet dancer but she died of consumption. Marietta got her claws into him next and insisted he change the ship’s name.’

  Jealousy tried to rear its ugly head but I slapped it down. ‘Surely Adam knew of the maritime superstition that you summon up bad luck if you rename a ship?’

  Hildegarde hesitated before answering. ‘Probably, but Marietta Zendik can be very persuasive and she always gets her own way. None of this should matter to you though, given he’s still keen on marrying you. Despite the fact you turned cannibal on him. Viola reckons we must organise your trousseau as soon as possible, before the captain comes to his senses and changes his mind.’

  Poor Rosamund. Poor Marietta. I am not being facetious. My brush with death made me decidedly more empathic and I’d softened in my attitude to Marietta. I was oozing with the milk of human kindness and it felt very odd indeed. There’s a lot more guilty pleasure to be found in the inferno of jealousy.

  My suffering was far from over. The gargoyle still screamed out for Farrell’s elixir. Ruled by evil spirits, my body was wracked with cramps and spasms. Heavy sweats were followed by freezing chills and I was either burning up or my teeth were chattering. Every muscle and tendon hurt and my blood pounded noisily in my ears. I didn’t have the strength to stand up. Dr Grubb discussed my symptoms with Adam and questioned Viola on what she knew about the Kane curse. Medical textbooks were consulted at all hours. The gargoyle lay on his back, stroked his fat belly and sniggered. He wasn’t done with me yet.

  I refused food but Adam force fed me by prying my mouth open and risking damage to his fingers. Again I lashed out at him, so he bound me hand and foot before he tried force feeding me again. I seethed with fury as he deftly shovelled chicken soup between my clenched teeth. I’m ashamed to admit it but I spat it back at him. It was a messy business but he made a great show of being undeterred. He was now in his role of captain and there would be no back-pedalling. Adam sang traditional Elizabethan love songs as he forced the soup down my throat. He had a deep baritone voice and was very easy on the ear. The absurdity of the situation made me relax my jaw and he was able to get the soup into me.

  Alas, my love, you do me wrong,

  To cast me off discourteously.

  For I’ve loved you well and long,

  Delighting in your company.

  Greensleeves was all my joy

  Greensleeves was my delight,

  Greensleeves was my heart of gold,

  And who . . . but my ladyyyy Green . . . sleeeeves . . .

  To this day, I cannot listen to Greensleeves without becoming melancholy.

  I no longer recognised myself. My behaviour was well beyond the pale. The gargoyle still possessed me. When I fell into a searing hellfire of pain, Adam massaged my body with perfumed oils. I begged him to give me opium but he refused and would brook no argument. After I became violent one night and attacked him with his own knife, Adam tied me to the bedposts again. He then joined his crew for a few hands of poker.

  I could hear his laughter from the deck below and knew I was being punished because neither Viola nor Hildegarde visited me. Adam didn’t return to his cabin until three in the morning. The candle had burnt down leaving me fuming in the dark. When Adam lit another candle I saw that he was stone cold sober. He didn’t hide his amusement at the sight of me spreadeagled and bound to his bedposts.

  As he undid the sailor’s knots and massaged my wrists he said, ‘This is hurting me at least as much as it is hurting you. I’m familiar with your sickness. The galley boy from The Tiger died of something similar but he was practically living in Chinese opium dens.’ He held a cup of water to my lips and I drank greedily. ‘Sasha, I know what I’m doing but you must put your back into it. If Grubb could work out the chemical composition of Farrell’s elixir we’d have a better idea of what ails you. But Farrell’s elixir is composed of known and unidentifiable chemicals, probably from foreign plants.’

  I realised then that the elixir was still on board. The gargoyle was jubilant and I became very sly. I licked my cracked lips. ‘You mean you kept some of the elixir?’

  As I said this I had a very clear vision of the elixir, hidden amongst the wine bottles in the captain’s strongroom. That meant it was down in the hold. How could I get down there without being caught? And how could I steal Adam’s key to the strongroom?

  I was a fool and should have known better. Adam was onto me straight away and his jaw hardened. ‘Sasha! You still don’t understand, do you? Yes. I kept one bottle of the elixir. Grubb’s been work
ing on it round the clock, he barely eats, hardly sleeps. So stop being so damned egocentric. If Grubb can’t crack the formula by the end of this week, I’m going to empty the remainder into the ocean, so don’t even bother trying to get your paws on it.’

  My shame was bottomless. ‘I’m sorry, Adam, I just can’t help it.’

  He gripped me by the shoulders. I felt bruises forming. The heat of his anger made me cringe. ‘Sasha, enough! Heaven help that fucker Farrell if I ever get my hands on him. I need you to trust me unconditionally and obey me completely. Ride it out and in a few days the worst will be over.’

  He relaxed his grip and took several deep breaths. It never failed to amaze me how quickly the captain could master his anger. ‘If it’s any consolation, my sweet, bondage really becomes you.’

  I couldn’t help but laugh.

  Recognition of the insanity of my situation cleared my mind, bringing me back to my authentic self. I promised myself that under no circumstances was I going to try to retrieve the elixir. I was going to stop being so damned selfish.

  Viola and Hildegarde took turns sitting by my bedside and applying cold, wet flannels to my forehead. I was sweating and racked with fever. Interestingly enough, during this terrible time Hildegarde didn’t cry even once. She sang ballads in her melodic voice and I dropped off to sleep lulled by familiar melodies. Viola tried to distract me by reading aloud from Elinor Glyn’s recent novella. She also tried to interest me in arrangements for my wedding.

  Sometimes I pretended to be asleep so I could eavesdrop. One evening, as they entered the cabin, Viola said to Adam, ‘At least Sasha’s illness has made Hil forget her worthless fiancé.’

  Adam gently stroked my face. ‘Why do women persist in throwing themselves at real bastards? Hil can do better than Brick. That bloke is a cockchafer. He’s very low, even in the pecking order of Wolfftown’s criminals.’