The Whispers of the Sprite

by Joanna Mazurkiewicz

  ‘Yes, nice to meet you,’ I answer, not knowing how to react but he leans over and kisses me on the cheek. He pulls out a chair each for Mum and me and asks the waiter to bring the best wine.

  ‘So, how is Wales?’ he asks, glancing at me.

  ‘It's great. I love the University,’ I answer.

  We talk a bit about my time in Swansea and then the conversation moves to Dmitry's business. I can see why my Mother fell for him; he is very charming and polite. She behaves completely differently when she is around him. I am struggling to maintain my focus on the conversation as my mind begins to wander off to the night in my bedroom when Gabriel made love to me; I notice a few Sprites in the restaurant, trying to mask themselves into unfamiliar surroundings.

  Mum is busily engaged in the conversation with Dmitry, telling him about her day in the hospital. As I look around for the toilet, I see the restaurant isn’t very busy. There are a few couples dotted around; there is a group of men in their thirties, looking bored and slightly drunk. Then in the far corner of the room, I notice an older lady that looks familiar; she has short silver hair and a lot of gold jewellery around her neck. I try to remember where I may have seen her before when all of a sudden she looks at me. I quickly look at my menu, realising why she looks so familiar; the night in London when I was going back home after meeting my friend Gosia for drinks, she was on my street in the middle of the night. Then in Swansea, she was standing outside my house, staring at my window. I begin to wonder if this woman is following me or it's all a coincidence. After a few minutes, I glance back at her again but she isn't looking at me anymore. She is reading a book perhaps, but I can't see from my table.

  'Are you ready to order?’ asks the young waiter, breaking off my thoughts about the woman. I look at the menu, trying to remember what I wanted. After a few seconds, I choose a traditional Russian soup, okroshka, which I haven’t eaten for a long time. Then a Sprite comes to our table towards my Mother; he is tall and handsome with bright red hair. I try not to look at him, but I can't help it. He passes by me and leans in to whisper something in my Mother's ear while she takes a sip of her wine; a cold shiver travels through my spine when his skin slightly brushes against my arm. Standing upright, the Sprite looks pleased with himself and walks off, and my Mother looks lost for a few seconds.

  ‘We should visit Russia together,’ she says unexpectedly.

  ‘That's a great idea,’ responds Dmitry. I stare at my Mother without saying anything but I know what her Sprite is trying to do; I know that matching humans is their main priority. I wonder if I lost my ability of seeing Gabriel, would he ever try to connect me with a different man?

  After main courses, the waiter brings vodka; I refuse to drink any more as I have already had two glasses of wine and don't want to mix my drinks. Mum's face is purple and she is giggling. I excuse myself and go in search of the toilet. I feel dizzy as I get up. I wonder if I will see Gabriel any time soon.

  I notice the mysterious woman isn't at her table as I try to locate the toilet; I glance at the time, surprised that it’s already close to 10pm. The restaurant is quiet at this point and the drunken men have left. After directions from the waitress, I walk upstairs to the bathroom, I feel bloated and uncomfortable, having had way too much food. At the top of the stairs, I spot the mysterious woman; I try to avoid her but she grabs my hand unexpectedly. I can smell lavender again; it’s so intense and overpowering. She glances around furiously as she is afraid that someone will hear us, and then she focuses her gaze at me.

  ‘Danger is approaching. Be careful and protect yourself,’ she says, squeezing my arm as fear laps to her. For a long moment she is staring directly into my eyes.

  I blink rapidly feeling her cold hand.

  ‘Excuse me?’

  ‘Use iron, child. Iron will protect you!’ she whispers in a fearful voice.

  I exhale, trying to understand what’s going on, but someone else walks past and distracts me from this weird and scary woman and her words of warning. She releases my hand as the passerby looks over and then she stares at me as though seeing me for the first time in her life; as though she didn’t just grab my hand and scare the life out of me. As she reaches the bottom of the stairs, she looks up at me again and then disappears around the corner. Her words run through my mind and I don't understand why she mentioned iron; what would iron have to do with me?

  I run down to see if I can ask her what she meant but as I reach her table, I find it empty. I look around the restaurant but she’s gone. I stand there, confused and sober, scratching my head, wondering if I have just imagined the entire thing when an unknown Sprite looks over at me but I ignore her, having more pressing matters in my head.

  As I walk back to my table, Mum is drunk and so is Dmitry. Her face is still purple and she is mumbling, mixing her words in Russian and English. I wave to the waiter for the bill and ask Dmitry to get us a taxi home. He nods with acknowledgment, as he is heading to Liverpool in the morning and needs to wake up early himself. I help my Mother to get to the taxi, thanking Dmitry for dinner. As we head home, my mind is analysing what the strange woman told me on the stairs: 'Use iron child. iron will protect you.'

  Next few days are peaceful and I stay at home watching TV and read a few novels. I hope to see Gabriel later at any point; I miss him already. Just before 7pm on a gloomy Sunday night I get a phone call from Mum, who tells me she will be in work longer than expected, as there has been an accident.

  Around ten o’clock I decide to go to bed early, Gabriel isn’t going to show up so I don’t see the point in staying up waiting for him; however he is already in my room.

  ‘How long have you been standing here?’ I ask closing the door. He turns around to look at me.

  ‘Only for a few minutes.’

  I place my hands on my hips. I can’t read anything from his expression.

  ‘Why didn’t you appear in the living room?’ I ask sucking the corner of my lips.

  ‘Because I was thinking.’

  ‘Thinking? In my room?’

  ‘Yes I had something in my mind,’ he pauses ‘We need to talk.’

  My heart skips a beat, then races triple time, we need to talk, that sentence starts ringing in my head. I blink rapidly afraid to say anything. He moves closer to me but I step away.

  ‘Talk? About what?’

  He avoids my gaze, this doesn’t feel right. Men don’t just say that they want to talk unless it’s important.

  ‘I won’t be around for a while,’ he shrugs shifting his weigh uncomfortably. My throat goes dry.

  ‘Why are you not going to be around?’

  ‘I have to take care of something,’ he responds then he is beside me closer than he should be. He wraps his arms around me

  ‘Something?’ I repeat but my voice dies in my throat when he starts kissing my neck.

  ‘You make me crazy,’ he murmurs.

  I can barely control myself when he slips his hand underneath my blouse running his fingers across my back. My heart compresses in my chest.

  My breathing is heavy, more laboured but I find strength and pull away from him.

  ‘What do you mean you have to take care of something?’ I repeat. He smile fades away.

  ‘I can’t talk about it, I just need to disappear for a while,’ he adds stroking his black hair, ‘But we will be together again before you even know it.’

  ‘So you used me to have sex with me and now you are going to vanish without explaining anything to me?’ I ask feeling like the bucket of ice has just cascaded into my stomach.

  He scowls at me wrinkling his forehead with effort.

  ‘It’s not about you Ania. I just have to take care of a few things,’ he presses, but I just shake my head.

  ‘Of course it’s about me!’ I roar, ‘You got what you wanted and now you are just going to leave. I can’t believe that I was so stupid!’

  He narrows his blue eyes and exhales sharply.

  ‘You need to calm
down.’

  ‘I am not going to calm down. Get the hell out of here!’

  This is it, I am not controlling myself any more, he shoots me an angry look and then he is gone.

  I stare at the empty space wondering what I’ve just done. I didn’t mean to behave like a lunatic. I throw myself on the bed and start crying like a little child. My behaviour was unacceptable. Obviously he had to leave but he could at least explain where he was going. I hate that I acted so impulsively stupid.

  I cry until exhaustion takes over and I finally fall asleep. A few hours later when I wake up, nothing seems to make sense. I gave him my heart and he leaves me after sleeping with me. I try to explain to myself that he doesn't follow the same rules as humans.

  This situation is oddly similar to the days after I slept with George.

  In the morning, I take a shower, wondering if I could jump into a time machine and go back to the night when I was attacked so everything would stay the same and the pain in my heart could fade away. Am I behaving like this because I have feelings for him? It’s too early to talk about love. I don’t know anything about him beside the fact that he isn’t a human. This isn’t normal, but I have to get on with life and forget that I ever believed that I could have a future with him.

  Days and nights are passing by and I am learning to live without the only man who can make me happy. It’s a week before Christmas and although I still haven’t bought Mum anything, I decide not to risk shopping on Oxford Street. Crowds of people are probably out looking for the last minute presents for relatives and I would need a miracle to get to the till. I can't concentrate on my revision as my brain is filled with unrealistic thoughts about Gabriel; I am convinced that he is with Rose and he’s lied about going away.

  A few days before Christmas, I can no longer stand being stuck in my house and decide I have to get out for some fresh air. I was supposed to meet a few of my friends from school but every time I tried to arrange meeting, they were preoccupied, so in the end I give up. It’s my own fault that none of my friends are making much of an effort; I haven’t kept in close contact with any of them since I moved to Swansea. I only have myself to blame.

  As I leave the house, I plan on getting some food in one of my favourite restaurants where I used to work. Mum is working her last shift before the Christmas break so I decide to visit an old haunt and get myself out of this depressive mood about Gabriel.

  It’s the middle of the late afternoon and the streets are packed with drunken people celebrating the festive season. I pass a few Sprites on the way, but they only remind me of the one who isn't with me. Luckily for me, the restaurant isn’t very busy and I am able to read my favourite book and order something special. The owner, Mario, is Spanish and he knows me well from when I used to work here whilst in school. Unfortunately he isn’t working today.

  ‘Ania, what a surprise.’

  I turn around and I see Richard, who is at the bar.

  ‘Hi Richard. How are you?’ I say, surprised to see him in here. Richard is the last person that I would expect to meet today, especially in London; but then I remember that told me that he is from Kingsway when Amy had introduced us.

  ‘What are you drinking?’ he asks. I bite my lip, wondering if taking him up on his drink offer. I would have to stay with him; I was hoping for a quiet drink and some food by myself. I wanted a date with my book, not with the boyfriend of my housemate.

  ‘Southern Comfort and Coke please,’ I answer, looking around to see where I could get a table by myself.

  ‘Are you here alone?’ he asks, passing me a glass of my favourite drink.

  'Yes, just me and my book,' I show him the book in my bag, insinuating that I am not in the mood for company.

  ‘I’ve got a table in the corner – go sit down and I’ll order some food,’ he says, completely ignoring my hint at wanting to be alone. I don't want to be rude so I go to the table and take a seat; he comes over with his pint of beer. I am slowly regretting that I went out now; Richard sits down by me, looking really pleased with himself.

  ‘I love this place; I come here all the time.’

  ‘Really? I haven’t seen you here before,’ I respond, trying to make the conversation casual.

  ‘That's strange; I am a regular customer. Mario knows me well,’ he says, looking surprised. ‘So you live around here?’

  ‘Yes, not far from here. I used to work here years ago on weekends and I would definitely have remembered you,’ I explain, sipping my Southern Comfort.

  ‘Maybe our roads were meant to cross in Swansea.’

  ‘Maybe.’

  ‘So tell me more about yourself. I’m interested to find out more about Russia,’ he says. His eyes are fixed on mine, waiting for my answer. My stomach churns.

  ‘Well, we moved here a few years ago. I liked living in Russia and I still have a lot of friends there. The winters are terrible but sometimes I wish I could still be there.’

  ‘So why did you decide to move here?’ he asks. The waiter comes over and places two plates down on the table. Chilli con carne. How did Richard know to order this for me?’

  ‘Thanks. How did you know I like this dish?’ I ask, a little annoyed that he had just decided to order the food for me.

  ‘Magic,’ he chuckles and continues, ‘So why did you decide to move to this gloomy and miserable country?’

  ‘My mother got a job in the hospital so she decided to move here. She said that we could have a better life here,’ I respond and then tuck into my food. It tastes exactly as I remembered. Richard ploughs on with his probing questions.

  ‘Did you want to move to the UK? What about your father, didn't he mind?’

  I keep silent for a while, trying to understand why he wants to know so much about me. Anyway, I already mentioned my Father when I spoke to him in Swansea.

  ‘It was my mother’s decision, so I just followed. My father had nothing to say because he wasn't there. I told you before, I’ve never met him,’ I answer, trying to remain calm. I change the subject. ‘Are you not seeing Amy during the Christmas break? I thought she was coming over?’

  ‘No, she feels a bit overwhelmed with her family back home. I don't think we’ll see each other until January now,’ he sounds slightly disappointed. I wonder where exactly this conversation is going. I feel like he is only partially hearing what I am saying and focusing only on the sentences that he wants to hear.

  ‘Oh right,’ I mumble.

  The restaurant is getting busier and a few Sprites were wandering around but now they have gone as the room begins to fill with people. We are sitting by the window and I see that it is getting dark. My Mother will be home soon. I don't like Richard’s company right now, especially after he has had a few more drinks.

  ‘So are you seeing anyone at the moment?’ he continues with his interrogation, and I am little tired of him being overly curious. This whole conversation is making me uncomfortable and I look at my phone to check the time.

  ‘Sorry Rich, but I have to get going. My Mother is going to be home soon and I’ve got to help her with the cooking.’

  I don't wait for his response and walk to the bar to settle the bill, but the waiter says that the bill was already taken care of. I leave the restaurant quickly, avoiding looking at Richard. I know it seems rude leaving him alone after he paid for my meal but his questions were getting too personal. As I walk home, I replay the conversation back in my head, and the whole evening seems too surreal; he was taking too much of an interest in my life. I keep looking behind, wondering if he would follow me home but he’s nowhere to be seen. When I get to bed in that night; I cry and wonder if I will ever see Gabriel again. I feel so lonely knowing that he won’t be waking me up in the middle of the night. Finally a few hours later I fall asleep, emotionally exhausted.

  I end up spending Christmas Day in bed, eating crisps and watching TV. Celebrating alone makes me more depressed, Gabriel isn't around and my phone is silent. Mum's annual leave won’t star
t until tomorrow now with her having to work an extra day. I will be staying in London to spend this year’s festive period with Mum's new man and Gosia. My decision to stay in the UK this year was down to my revision being far more important than anything else, and I wouldn't want to leave with the pending exams looming.

  I wonder if I should call Amy and mention my meeting with Richard. I found his personal questions intimidating but I change my mind. Instead, I lay in bed and struggle to find the motivation to get up. My conscious is telling me that I am wasting my energy thinking about a man that I can't have; time seems surreal when I am not with him and I’ve been having sleepless nights, wondering if I could change everything that's happened between us.

  My University books keep distracting me from my own unreal thoughts and my acting skills improve when I am around Mum; she’s too preoccupied with Dmitry to notice my heartache anyway, but I can’t hide my true emotions when by myself. It's too early to throw myself into the Christmas preparation; our Christmas won't start till the seventh of January, thirteen days after everyone else has celebrated theirs.

  I can't wait to see Gosia; we get to spend a few days together before she has to be back in London. We haven't seen each other for over five months and will have lots to catch up on. Amy phones me after Christmas Day and tells me about her time back at her parents; she hasn't seen Richard for a while and I can't bring myself to tell her anything about my meeting with him recently. It would break my heart to see Amy hurt, so I decide to keep quiet about my suspicions about him. When I mention that we didn't do anything special on Christmas Day, she just didn’t understand it and can't figure out that I have to wait until the seventh for all the presents and delicious food.

  10

  On New Year's Eve, Dmitry takes us to Central London to see the fireworks display. I hardly notice any Sprites as we struggle to get through the crowds of people. On the seventh of January our kitchen looks like a storm went through it, but everything seems to be ready. I have a lot to reflect on; my attack on the beach back in Swansea changed me both physically and mentally, yet I survived. The police seem to be stuck with their investigation about what happened; I had a phone call around a month ago informing me that they still don't know who attacked me, and deep down I don’t think the mystery will ever be solved