by L J K Cross
Without a word, Amanda sat down on the bed beside him and took his hand. His touch, usually so welcoming and familiar, felt like a stranger’s. Whereas usually it was warm, comforting and soothing it now felt limp and alien and slightly unsettling. She gave his hand a firm squeeze in the hope that she would get a response but all she was met with was apathy. Amanda had never seen Steve this way before. She had never seen him so demoralised before. To see him that down cast made her heart heave with a heavy sadness. She had never seen him anything less than up beat and optimistic. And so they both sat in silence, unsure of what the other was thinking, neither of them knowing the right words to say to console. A stony walled silence stood between them, obstructing any form of communication between them.
Before they had never felt the needs for words. They had always had an unspoken bond – a silent indefinable understanding. But as Amanda frantically searched for a means to dispel the disquiet that loomed over them, all words evaded her. None seemed adequate. None seemed safe or neutral enough. Amanda was frightened her words would explode between them, igniting an incendiary response that would permanently scar both of them.
It was Steve who dared to speak first.
“So where do you want to go tonight? Are you still up for the after show party?”
Amanda nearly splurted out, “You’ve got to be kidding.” That was the absolute last place she wanted to go and she couldn’t believe that Steve was seriously suggesting it. She searched his eyes for the slightest indication as to what he was thinking but all she found was a clueless, vacant stare. Maybe after the stress and strains of the day their reactions were inevitable. Amanda kept reminding herself that it was all perfectly understandable. Hopefully, she told herself, a good nights rest was all they needed to get them back on track. But right now Amanda was fighting an overwhelming urge to cry. How could she blame Steve for being out of sorts when this was most out of character for her? Amanda didn’t want Steve to see her welling up and so turned her head away from him. She wasn’t even sure why she felt like crying. Was it for her or for Steve or was it due to the discordant chasm that now stood between them?
Amanda shook her head as if hoping to shake off any unwanted thoughts. She and Steve were stronger than this. They had overcome greater obstacles and so they would overcome this one. They were the perfect partnership. Everyone said so. An unparalleled match of defiance, determination and insurmountable willpower. Only a few minutes prior Amanda had bathed in the clarity of the bathroom lights. She had stepped out of the bathroom, cleansed of the day’s disaster and ready to start afresh. The depressing darkness of the bedroom was just temporary. It was her turn to be strong and take charge. She needed to be there for Steve for once. It was the least she could do for him.
“I don’t know about you but I really don’t think I could face the after show party.” Amanda spoke gently. She hoped she could coax him out of his despair with soft and tender enticement. Steve looked up, his face a mirage of bewilderment and confusion.
“I’d much prefer just you and me going somewhere quiet for a meal. Somewhere we can get away from it, where we can relax and unwind and not have to bother with anyone else.”
Steve gave a glimmer of a smile. “I’d like that.”
“Hurrah!” shouted Amanda inwardly. “At last.”
“I’m going to have to find another dress to wear tonight though,” she said, as she nodded over at the gold evening dress that she had hung up in preparation for the after show party.
“A gold dress hardly seems appropriate given the circumstances, don’t you think?” she tried joking. “Wonder if I brought anything grey and drab. I need to find the greyest, drabbest dress ever.”
Steve laughed at her pathetic attempt to make light of the situation. It may have only been a half-hearted laugh but it gave Amanda encouragement that the worst would soon be behind them. At least she hoped it was.
As Amanda and Steve were ushered to their table, Koroviev sidled into place at a table on the other side of a roman column from them. Ideally situated to observe and overhear without detection. Such elementary surveillance was second nature to a seasoned ex FSB officer such as himself. With a studied insouciant air and plain, nondescript attire he attracted little attention, despite sitting alone in a crowded restaurant. Even the alarming scar that jagged down his right cheek provoked little more than the odd double take. Koroviev’s intense, inherent loathing of all things American though took a little more practiced disguising. As a hardened veteran of the Cold War, his die-hard attitude to the old enemy was still one of deep distaste. After years of coming to Las Vegas with the Master, this place had only confirmed Koroviev in his conviction that America was the most egotistical, misguided nation on the planet and Las Vegas, in his mind, was the culmination of the worst of its excesses. Following Amanda and Steve along the Canal at The Venetian, Koroviev had felt nauseated by the gaudy ostentatiousness of it all. His reconnaissance had allowed him though to observe the tension and division that existed between the two. They had crossed the canal bridges in strained silence and they had dodged over stuffed, over enthusiastic American tourists with little more than a fleeting recognition of each other. For someone as adept at reading body language as Koroviev, such incongruence inevitably translated into disharmony and conflict. The Master would be pleased.
Koroviev had been observing the pair for over ten minutes in the restaurant. They had perused the menu. They had taken in the tacky fake frescos and the garish mock Venetian decor of the Italian restaurant but still they had not uttered a word to each other. Koroviev had the scene under continuous surveillance, mentally noting all that was relevant and needed to be reported. He had no need for a notebook. That would only attract unwanted attention. He observed that Steve was on his third Jack Daniels and coke by the time the food arrived. He knocked back two more before he felt courage enough to broach the subject that was playing on both their minds.
“I just can’t believe what a disaster today turned out to be,” he muttered.
Amanda wasn’t sure at first whether he had actually spoken or whether she had imagined it.
“All that effort. We worked our arses off.” Steve was still evidently seething. “I’m just so pissed off that we came so close and then had it stolen right from under our noses.”
Amanda smiled in agreement. She knew he would see it her way. Their opinions had never diverged before so why had she been so worried that they would start disagreeing now. It was inevitable that he was incensed. He was bound to resent the situation, but she knew that he would harness his anger and they would come back even bigger and better next year. How could she ever have had an inkling of doubt about him?
“I just don’t know if I can do it all again,” said Steve sorrowfully.
“What?” spluttered Amanda disbelievingly. Koroviev nearly knocked over his drink in shock when he heard this and nearly toppled his cover in the process. Fortunately both Amanda and Steve were too distracted to notice. Amanda rubbed at her ears as if certain that they had deceived her.
“I’ve been thinking about it all night and it just makes you wonder if it is all worth it. Come on Amanda!” appealed Steve. “You put your whole life on hold. Every last detail of your day is planned and there is no time off. Every day is groundhog day and then at the end...after all the sacrifice and hard slog you just end up skint and often in a worse position than you were before.”
Amanda was speechless. Everything Steve said was right but it had always been that way. Neither of them had entered the sport blind and naive. It may be a life of relentless mental and physical endurance but it was her life. For Amanda a life without goals, without striving was incomprehensible and yet she couldn’t comprehend pursuing and achieving those goals without Steve. She was shell-shocked. She was stunned. She was simply stumped into silence.
Koroviev had heard and seen enough. The plan was working. He had to get back to Alexander and report his findings. He knew Alexander would be pleased
– almost as pleased as he himself was. Koroviev had but one small errand to complete first before he returned to the Master’s suite at the Bellagio.
“I’ve been thinking about it for awhile,” continued Steve. He was on a roll but Amanda didn’t know how many more surprises she could take. She felt she was looking across the table at a stranger. This was not the Steve she knew and loved. Her Steve would never consider quitting. Her Steve would never take the easy way out. Her Steve would never be so pessimistic.
“If we wrap it in now we will be quitting whilst we are ahead. No other British woman has achieved more than you on the World stage.”
“He really didn’t get it,” thought Amanda.
“We could go and live in France and open the health retreat like we have always dreamt of. With your reputation as one of the top female bodybuilders in the world it would be a roaring success and more importantly we would have more time for us.”
Amanda couldn’t bring herself to look at Steve and idly twirled her spaghetti Bolognese on her fork. She had lost her appetite all of a sudden. For the second time that day, Amanda knew that if she looked at Steve she would have burst out crying. What was happening? Maybe they would have been tears of frustration. Maybe they would have been tears of disappointment. Maybe they would have been a mixture of both. How could Steve be satisfied with quitting now and not end up being consumed with frustration and regret at not having obtained the ultimate prize? Amanda knew she would. She knew she would not be able to cope with the failure and that it would ultimately destroy her and probably Steve too.
“Look at me,” willed Steve, hoping his thoughts would some how telepathically make Amanda look up so he could gauge what she was thinking. He hadn’t meant what he said, not a word of it. He had said it for her own good and because he knew that her pride wouldn’t have allowed her to bring it up. He just worried about her – more than she could ever know. How much longer could she keep putting her body through such suffering? Where would it end? He believed in her, of course he did, but would the ultimate prize really be worth the sacrifice? He was looking out for her just like he always had. He was trying to give her perspective because he knew that once you were on that treadmill it was very difficult to get off. He just hoped she would understand the reasons why he had said what he had and not end up resenting him.
They finished off the rest of the meal in silence. There was nothing more to be said. Well nothing more to be said at the moment given the moods they were both in.
“Some post comp celebration this has turned out to be,” thought Amanda. There was nothing to celebrate and it looked like there wouldn’t be much to celebrate in the future either. Not only was she uncertain as to what her bodybuilding future held but a feeling of uncertainty had also crept into their relationship. A relationship that had previously felt so permanent, built on such a strong and steady bedrock. There really was very little to be up beat about.
Fortunately the drive back to the hotel was brief, given the pending mood of reticence that hung heavy in the car. Steve had just rolled their hired Ford Mustang lazily into the hotel’s underground parking when Amanda spotted them. Steve had obviously seen them too. Without warning he slammed on the brakes, wrenched the handbrake on and was out the door. By the time Amanda caught up with him, Steve had Danni’s trainer pinned by the throat across the bonnet of some Chevrolet or other. From the look of the trainer’s nose Steve had already managed to land several deft punches. Even now with Danni and two other burly types on his back trying to pull him away, Steve carried on lurching forward, raining a torrent of blows and insults on his target.
“I told you I would wipe that smug smile off your fuckin’ face didn’t I?” spat Steve. “I’m going to smash your ugly fuckin’ face to a pulp, you pumped up midget cunt,” he promised. The avalanche of jabs and hooks was relentless. Blood splattered. Flesh ripped. Bone crunched and still the retribution continued. Steve used his full body weight against the trainer as if wishing to crush the very life out of him. Steve’s mouth was close to his ear. His face was such a ravage mix of unadulterated anger and wild, animalistic savagery that Amanda couldn’t help but worry that Steve would loose all restraint and bite into the side of his face. He seemed intent on maiming – possibly killing.
“This is the only fucking language scum like you understand.”
Amanda knew she had to stop it, if not for the trainer’s sake, then for Steve’s. The only thing holding the trainer up was the sheer force and pace of the blows.
“Steve stop! You’ve got to stop!” she screamed, throwing herself in the midst of the fracas and nearly ending up on the receiving end of one of Steve’s right hooks her self.
“Please Steve. It’s not worth it!” she pleaded. His thirst for blood was so potent that he seemed not to hear her. His eyes curdled under a red mist. He even reeked of blood, he was that seduced by its taste.
Amanda had to block and manhandle Steve back into the car that they had abandoned across the parking lot’s exit lane. Once they had parked, Steve slumped back in his seat and smiled. It was the first time he had smiled all evening.
“I feel better now,” he said as he turned to face Amanda in the seat beside him. “That prick should be thanking me anyway,” he chortled, “I ended up making him better looking than he was before.”
Amanda couldn’t take anymore of him and quickly got of the car. What did he mean that now he felt better? As if punching the living daylights out of someone made everything alright. That wasn’t what she had in mind for exacting revenge on Danni. It would take more than a beating for them to be even in Amanda’s books.
Steve hardly had a scratch on him apart from a few cuts and some bruising on his knuckles, which needed some ice. Amanda didn’t trust Steve not to go getting himself into more trouble. Plus she thought it wise for him to lie low for a while and so offered to go get him some ice from the hotel bar. Walking back through the hotel lobby she was stopped by one of the receptionists and handed a package. Maybe it was the way the receptionist had looked at her as he had handed her the parcel or maybe it was the anonymity of the plain brown paper wrapping but it all felt a little surreptitious. A little clandestine. Amanda couldn’t keep her heart from beating just a little faster as she carefully unwrapped the string and paper wrapping. Inside was revealed a first edition Russian copy of The Master and Margarita, first published in 1967. Amanda let out a gasp in part at the exquisitely ornate gold detailing that was off set against the leather covering.
“Not this again,” sighed Amanda. She really didn’t need bothering with these petty games. Not tonight – especially not after the day she had had. She would have been lying though if she had said she wasn’t at least a little bit intrigued. After all, being sent a first edition wasn’t exactly a throw away gesture. Whoever had sent it seemed pretty serious…and pretty rich too.
“Well lets see who is behind all the mystery then,” mused Amanda as she took the handwritten card from between its priceless pages. The pages smelt as if they had been worn by time. Even the handwriting on the card was old fashioned. Who still wrote with a fountain pen, wondered Amanda?
“My dearest Miss Hearst,” began the note “please accept this gift as a small token of the greatest esteem within which you are held. I am but your most devoted fan and as such was deeply saddened by the travesty, which transgressed on the stage tonight. I, myself, was most affronted by the judgement. I wish most sincerely to make your acquaintance and to present you with a proposition that will be mutually beneficial to both parties. My chauffeur will be waiting outside your hotel at precisely 2000 hours tomorrow evening. I do hope that you choose to accept my invitation and rest assured that you will be most adequately reimbursed for your time.”
It was signed “with kindest regards, Alexander.”
Amanda had to re read the note again. She couldn’t deny that she was intrigued and not just by the overly elaborate, highly formal style of language. A mutually beneficial proposition, s
he pondered. Amanda had always been a firm believer that you should grasp every opportunity with both hands and at the moment Amanda needed every opportunity that passed her way. What did she have to lose? What would Steve make of it? Why should she care anyway? Maybe she wouldn’t even tell him?
CHAPTER 10
Sunrise was Amanda’s favourite part of the day. She had already been up for an hour or so and was now stood at her hotel window, steaming cup of black coffee in her hand, watching the sun creep slowly over the horizon, painting its palette of pastel pinks, blues and yellows across the sky. Such a picturesque panorama and the warming aroma of the coffee put Amanda in a pensive mood. One couldn’t help but be filled with hope and optimism as you reflected on what promise the day held. Who knew what opportunities the day would bring? Once again yesterday’s intriguing invitation came to the fore of Amanda’s thoughts.
The sun was rising fast in the sky. The earth below was already wilting, suffering in the wake of its stifling heat. Amanda had watched the same sun rise yesterday morning and at the time had mused over how much promise and hope it emitted on its gentle rays. Yet within a few hours that same sun had transformed into a ferocious and unforgiving demon, destroying all optimism and leaving a trail of pure misery in its wake. Amanda was desperate that today would deliver on its promise. As far as she was concerned yesterday’s invitation had arrived at just the right time. Amanda gravely needed an infusion of aspiration and so hoped beyond hope that the invite would live up to expectations and maybe even surpass them.
