by Alisa Grey
At 18.30 sharp he knocked on my door. He introduced himself to dad and Renny, then we got into his car and he drove me to his house. A marvellous table was waiting for us.
We chattered about this and that, our houses, my family and my past times. Then, out of the blue, he told me he had to go away for a few days. He had to go to Paris to check on some paperwork and he also needed to talk to a friend of his, an abbot. He didn’t add any detail and I didn’t dare to ask for them. I could tell he didn’t want to share his secrets with me yet.
It saddened me quite a lot, to think that we would not be able to meet for a few days. He must have noticed that, because he caressed my cheek. I turned pink and I was suddenly feeling very hot. I was in love with him.
The Carmen was amazing and I finally understood why Mme Fontaine was so well known all over the world. As I child, I used to come to the theatre with my mom.
At the end of the show, Alex took me to the backstage. It was immediately clear to me that he was a good friend of the singer.
«Elénoire, ma chére, you’ve been outstanding as usual. You still get to surprise me, with all your passion and your talent».
She smiled and they hugged once again. Then she turned to me.
«Elénoire, I want you to meet someone. That’s Claire... mon coeur».
She examined me carefully.
«Oh, finally! You found her».
Found... me?
They spoke French, so I didn’t understand what they said, but as they said goodbye, I understood they would meet again... in Paris.
That would be very soon, then. Why?
By then, it was clear to me that Alex had many important friends and that I knew very little about him. He spoke perfect French and he was handsome in such a way that women always noticed him.
I would have liked to know some more about his many «friends», but he was good at eluding questions. We got to my house without me noticing it.
I was under his spell, that was very clear. It was like playing cat and mouse. He approached me, caressed my face and then he kissed me. Very passionately. Afterwards, he looked at me and said: «I’ll see you in a few days, mon coeur».
By the time he had walked away, I was still standing on the doorway. I was speechless.
Renny opened the door and I run up to my room without saying anything. I needed to be alone, it had all happened very fast.
At night I couldn’t sleep. During the next few days, I did what I was used to. James and I made it up and Lizzie asked me way too many questions that I was unable to reply to.
Had it really happened? What was the real Alex like?
The days were boring, because things were just not the same without him. My daily routine didn’t seem appealing to me anymore.
One morning I was wondering when we would meet again and I found him on my doorway. He was beautiful and charming. I pretended to be nonchalant and asked him what he had been doing throughout the past two months, after he had disappeared. He replied politely but elusively. The only relevant information that I got was that he had been in London for one week, but that he had been too busy to see me.
«I can see you are a very busy man, and so am I. So I must go now».
I wanted to hurt him and he noticed that. He came nearer and nearer.
«I would have come to you as soon as I had gotten to London if only I could, but I just couldn’t. I’ve been thinking of you». His voice was very smooth.
«Good to know that. I didn’t think of you, though. Never».
I was lying. I didn’t want him to think that I had fallen for him. I was angry and I wanted him to know that.
He was calm, though. He put his hands around my waist.
«I need to take care of something, because I want to marry you».
My mind went blank and I’m pretty sure my cheeks went pale.
He hugged me.
«I don’t want to upset you, but I really want to marry you. Will you let me talk about that to your father?»
And then he kissed me and all my doubts went away.
CHAPTER 3
A MAN SHOULD NEVER BE ALONE
“A lady's imagination is very rapid; it jumps from admiration to love, from love to matrimony in a moment.”
Jane Austen – Pride and Prejudice 1813
We got married at the end of June in a small church in the country. We invited very few friends; my brother was my witness and Alex’s friend, Alain, was his. Our engagement had been brief but intense. We got ready for our honeymoon, which was supposed to take place in Rome first and in France secondly.
I had never really thought about my life as a wife. I had never fallen in love with anybody, and I had always been too busy being a free spirit to think about marriage, but Alex had changed my life completely. I was standing in our room, unsure about how to act. I was too shy to even attempt an approach, but Alex came to the rescue. He knew exactly what to do.
He took his clothes off as he looked me in the eyes. When he was completely naked, he came to me and caressed my hair. He pushed it backwards and he started kissing my neck and shoulders. Ha caressed all my body and undressed me. I loved the way he kissed me. His lips were smooth and soft on my breasts. He unleashed my corset in a few seconds. He kept kissing me passionately as he undressed me. I somehow found myself lying on the bed, totally naked. He was whispering to me something in French. When he came over me and took my hands over my head, I felt the wall behind me. He was caressing my soul, before having me.
He unfolded my legs with his knees and he entered my body. He was moving very slowly, as if he wanted to make sure that he was not hurting me. Then he started pushing harder. He was kissing me passionately and he had put his hands over my waist. He was panting and sweating. We were one body and one soul. I wanted him so bad.
I didn’t think that something more would happen, but it did. He unfolded my legs even more and started pushing really hard. My body seemed to react spontaneously and I felt pleasure. He shouted and so did I. Then I felt something warm inside of me.
He was tired and really sweating. He closed his eyes and hugged me. He fell asleep, with his face over my hair.
After some time, he opened his blue eyes and said: «You’re mine, Claire, and I’ll never let you go.» Then he kissed me.
«And you are mine and I won’t let you go», I whispered kissing him back.
It was then that I sensed he must have had many girlfriends. He was just too good. I took a deep breath and asked him how many girls he had been engaged to.
«None. But I’ve slept with a few women. Much less than you think.»
I was determined not to let go.
«So, how many?», I asked.
«I presume you believe I’ve slept with dozens of women, but it was just two. The first one was when I was your age. She was sweet and nice and I had known her forever. She was called Rosemary and she lived in the Oxfordshire. We met almost every weekend, but I soon understood we were not made for each other. I haven’t seen her since. The second one... it happened later on».
He seemed to hesitate and his voice hardened. I could see he was unsure whether to carry on or stop talking. I asked him to carry on and pretended to be relaxed.
He told me it had happened in Paris.
I suddenly understood.
«In Paris, right? And when did it happen?»
I had already made a few calculations. His first love story must have come to an end some four years later, and «later on» meant that it had taken him some time to meet the second woman... I just needed to know if my guess was correct.
He was tense. He was clearly looking for the right words. Then he spoke.
«While I was in Paris. During the two months that I spent in Paris. I was crazy about you, Claire, and I knew you had an interest in me, but I just didn’t know if you really loved me. It was just sex, Claire. J’ai compris le sens du mot amour seulement après notre rencontre».
I was really angry. What I had felt in the
past few hours had flown away and I suddenly felt ice cold. I stood up and wanted to go away, but first I shouted him: «You know I can’t speak French!»
He stopped me. He took my arm and looked me in the eyes. He was trying to guess how I was feeling and he was also looking for something to say.
«I said I understood what love is after meeting you. Claire, I already told you so, but I will tell you again: you’re my wife and I won’t let you go. It won’t happen».
He was naked and beautiful. He was still lying on the bed and his eyes were so blue. He looked like a Greek divinity. He was still holding my arm and he was determined not to let go of me. I was suddenly hit by the meaning of his words: «I won’t let you go». I was his.
There was no escaping, because he would have stopped me. So I calmed down, or at least I pretended to.
«Alex, I must go to the bathroom. I’m not going anywhere». He finally let go of me.
I was feeling much better by then, but I was still hurting. I was not sure whether it was a matter of pride or love betrayed. He was still lying on the bed, as I had left him.
I went next to him and hugged him. He hugged me back and caressed my breasts. It was not to show that he loved me, it was just to remind me that I was his. Then he whispered to me: «Claire, my beloved, I’ll always love you. You’re my wife and I will be faithful. I’ll tell you everything you want to know. Just not today».
I was satisfied with his words. I fell asleep in his arms.
On the following morning we made love. It was sweet. We kissed passionately and got ready for our honeymoon.
CHAPTER 4
AMOR IS THE ANAGRAM OF ROMA
«As entering the city, a thousand carriages, drivers and tourist guides insist on taking your luggage. They take you as well and you find yourself submerged by English, German, American, French and Russian people running, wandering, asking natives where to go. It all in such a mixed variety of accents».
Hippolyte Taine - A Journey to Italy
Trains were finally a reality in Europe. Rome was just fifty-five hours away from London.
It was the Eternal City, a wonderful place. It lacked what other major cities had, that is to say efficiency, but the streets were packed with artists and personalities from all over the world. It was an appealing multicultural city, sure it was. It was clear that the whole urban structure had been undergoing many changes. It still was, actually.
July had just begun and we had decided to book a room at the Majestic, in «Via Veneto», as they said. It was en elegant hotel, not far from the main attractions. I was willing to see the Pantheon.
I was under the charm that the building seemed to possess. I soon discovered that it had a rich history.
«In 1667, mathematicians from the Royal Science Academy traced an imaginary line. They called it the Paris Meridian. The line is originated from the crucifix on top of the Pantheon. The meridian crosses Languedoc-Roussillon and Saint Sulpice».
I was always stuck when he told me stories.
«How come you know so much stuff?»
He looked me in the eyes. «I love ancient tales». And he kissed me.
I could sense it’d be an intense trip.
I liked the people in Rome. Everyone was very nice to us and Alex was a bit jealous of that. He was always keeping an eye on me, just in case.
He was always criticizing the way I dressed. Too provoking, he used to say.
«Are you really telling me you think all these people are being nice to me because of that? I am a married woman and, seriously, I think it shows. You are always next to me!»
He would stick to his point anyway.
«Claire, men are attracted by you. Please, dress properly».
That was enough.
«We’re in Rome. It’s the most romantic city on Earth and it’s thirty-five degrees in the shade. What should I dress like?»
It was always like that.
In the afternoon, we went to see my cousins. They were clearly impressed by Alex and his undeniable beauty. He was unable to understand Italian, though, so he started getting bored.
«I can’t even touch you».
I held his hand. «Of course you can, just not in that way. In a few hours, you will be able to».
When we got to the hotel, he didn’t say anything, but he got a note, which he immediately read. He didn’t tell me what it said, but he told me we would leave for Languedoc on the following morning.
I tried to ask why, but he remained silent.
«But... we were supposed to stay for a few more days».
«Claire, mon coeur, I’ll explain everything on the journey to France. Now we should go pack».
When he used to call me like that, it was a bad sign. I hugged him and whispered: «Why do we have to leave? We have so many things to do here...» Then I looked him in the eyes.
He went red, his eyes telling me how much he wanted me. But he said: «I’ll explain everything tomorrow». He was sweating. «There’s something we actually could do, though...»
I knew pretty well what he was alluding to and decided to take advantage of that.
«Yes, there is something we could do. But tomorrow you are going to tell me everything, otherwise...», I knew that would work.
It was the middle of July and on the following morning we left. We would travel across Italy and then get to France, where we would make a brief stop in Carcassone. It would be nice, because the sight was strikingly beautiful. It was like a fairytale. Yellow gorse was everywhere, endless vineyards and abandoned castles were just amazing.
The sight changed according to the region we were crossing. We saw the mountains, the hills and many lagoons. Horses and flamingos appeared from time to time.
On the journey, Alex told me the history of that part of France. It was quite bloody, because it was linked to the Crusade against the Albigenses, in 1209. It went on for forty years. Many cities, such as Toulouse, Carcassonne and Béziers, fell. Many people were killed in the name of God.
Languedoc was an independent Principato by then. Christians, Muslims and Judaists lived in harmony. People discussed poetry and philosophy.
The Cathars believed in reincarnation and in a female divinity. They also believed that two gods existed, one of them ruling on love, the other on evil. They didn’t believe in crucifixion nor in the crucifix. They didn’t even believe in sacraments. They used to say that Jesus was a prophet of love, AMOR, and that love had become power, ROMA. Inquisition was born because of this, because of the heresy in this duality.
You could still see some of the temples, or what remained of them. Many had been built for Magdalene, a woman that fascinated me quite a lot. I therefore asked Alex to tell me some more about her.
«Her cult is very spread here. In Saint Maximin la Sainte Baume, people pay homage to her skeleton. It is believed to be hers, at least. There’s even a fount named after her».
I loved that kind of stories.
«The story tells Magdalene run away from Palestine and got to Provence, to Les Saintes Maries de la Mer. Two women named Mary were with her. They were the ones that had witnessed Jesus’ death. Maria Salomé and Maria di Giacomo, which is Mary in Italian. In the South of France, the three of them died but first they spread Christianism. Magdalene is said to have died in Aix-en-Provence. Then she was buried in Vézelay.»
I had always known Madgalene was a prostitute. How come she be a Christian? Alex explained patiently.
«She is a fictitious character, or sort of. She might even be three women. Maria di Betania, who was Lazarus’ sister, a sinner whom we know nothing about, and Maria di Magdala, that is to say Magdalene».
Wow. That was unexpected. But it also made sense. Our two trips were somehow linked. Rome and France had a connection. It was Alex, actually, that had decided where to go on our honeymoon. I was still thinking about that, when Alex spoke.
«I’m part of a secret organization, Claire. It’s a very ancient one and I can’t tell you much abou
t it... I must not, you see. For your security, and for mine as well».
He took a deep breath.
«One year ago, parchments containing numbers and codes have been found. I went to Paris, where I met my dearest friends. We’re still studying the content of the parchments, but they seem to tell a very old story. I’ll have to meet a few people and you won’t always be able to accompany me, so please be patient».
His words were like daggers. So that was it. A secret society.
«What’s this to do with Magdalene? And with you?»
His answer was not clarifying.
«It’s a very ancient story. It begins some 2000 years ago when Magdalene went to the French Gaule and founded a new Dinasty, the Merovingians. They were killed by the Carolingians but an heir survived. His secret has gotten to our century thanks to the Templars».
I was stuck, so I remained silent for a few minutes. We got to Carcassonne, where the Arch of Alliance was said to have been kept.
We were staying at Alex’s friends. We had our own rooms and we would have all the privacy we needed.
On the following morning we visited the site.
It was in the Aude and it was crossed by the river. It was a small town, but charming nonetheless.
That night, Alex told me he needed to go to a meeting which I could not attend.
«But we just got here. Can’t you do this some other day?»
No, he couldn’t.
«Some of those people have come from very far countries, mon coeur».
Mon coeur. Bad sign. He was hiding something from me.
It was sundown and he was ready to go. I decided I would follow him. So as he waved goodbye, I waved back: «I’ll be reading a book.». We kissed and I waited a few seconds. Then I went out.
He walked through the narrow streets and along the river. It was getting dark, so he didn’t notice me. I was holding my breath. We walked for some fifteen minutes, then he entered a building. It was an old one. There were no lights, but in the back I saw a big window. A feeble light came from there. Candles, I believed. It seemed to me that they were exaggerating. I was fine with secrecy, but that was way too much.
