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Authors: Ani Alexander

BOOK: Highfall
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****

 

Annika and Vasko spent one week together.  Annika had decided to take the week off so she could spend more time with Vasko, concentrate on her emotions and understand whether their feelings were permanently dead or temporarily frozen.

 

With each single day Vasko was making Annika fall back in love with him again.  The guy she’d been head-over-heels in love with was back, and she rediscovered the long-forgotten feelings of warmth, comfort and love.  For the first time Vasko was able to open his soul to her and explain everything he felt.

 

Annika finally realised that she had most probably over- reacted when he chose to leave for the States.  Now, after so much time she was able to look at it more coolly and understand that his studies abroad were the only chance for them to have a better life in the future.  In their country there was high unemployment, meaning ridiculously low salaries.  People could not afford decent lives even if they worked 24 hours a day.  There was no way to put by any savings, no way to get a steady job or advance in your career unless you’d been educated abroad, spoke foreign languages and were still young enough to work long hours.  That was the only way out.

 

Studying abroad was too expensive for people living in her country, and Vasko's scholarship had been the one and only opportunity he would ever get.  So Vasko had suppressed his emotions and switched on his brain while making the decision.  Annika by contrast had switched her brain off completely and had sunk into her tumultuous sea of emotions.

 

In any case both of them needed that week to get back to where they had left off.  Both still loved each other and Vasko thought that his impulsive arrival was the best thing he had ever done.

 

When the week was over yet another long-distance period started for both of them.  This time it was harder.  Both were trying not to have too much free time to be able to bear the distance.  It felt like a déjà vu from the days when they’d been living in different cities and were spending only the weekends together, only now they were too far from each other and there were no weekends.

 

26

 

Annika worked in her rehab clinic and spent her free time with the few good friends she already had in Amsterdam.  She read a lot and started writing too.  Her newly created blog was a place where she shared her thoughts and creative writing pieces.

 

Vasko confronted the different challenges and struggles most Eastern Europeans encounter abroad - work permits, job interviews and green card to mention just a few.  It all took a great deal of time, commitment and perseverance, but Vasko refused to throw in the towel because he was determined to provide Annika with the best life he could possibly offer her.  If there was even the slightest chance of not going back to their developing country, which was “developing” far too slowly, he would definitely seize it.

 

Vasko spent most of his time studying for exams to obtain different stockbroker/financial qualifications and attending job interviews.  He hoped to get his dream job soon.  Annika motivated and encouraged him from Amsterdam and that was enough to make him carry on.  He was sure that sooner or later all his efforts would culminate in the desired result.

 

They did not notice precisely when it happened, but both of them grew up and became mature people with mature problems. 

 

****

 

Annika heard her apartment phone ringing as she was opening the door.  It was very persistent.  She got inside, put down her bags of groceries and ran to answer the phone.

 

“Hello.”

 

“Hi, dear,” Vasko's voice was trembling with excitement.

 

“Hi, love.  How are you?” Annika asked.

 

“Guess what happened a few minutes ago!”

 

“You won the lottery?”

 

“Nope.”

 

“You’ve decided to move to Amsterdam?”

 

“Nope.”

 

“Then I give up.”  Annika had no idea what it could be.

 

“I just became a senior financial analyst at Euro Brokers.”

 

“Wow, that's such brilliant news!”  Annika was really happy for him.  She knew only too well just how many difficulties he had had to overcome in order to achieve his ambition.

 

“You can be proud of me now.”

 

“I am,” Annika smiled to herself.  Vasko was always trying to get her approval and it felt sweet.

 

“I start in two weeks, so we’re definitely going to see each other before that.”

 

At long last, financial pressure was no longer going to be an issue, and he was planning to fly back and forth more often.  Previously there had been no way he could have afforded to.

 

“Cool.  We need to celebrate this.”  Annika was already wondering what kind of offbeat surprise to arrange for him.

 

“A big, big hug, dearest!  I will call again tomorrow, so make sure you log into Skype tonight.”

 

“Urghhhh, I am fed up with these long-distance dates,” Annika said in a tired voice.

 

“I know... Me too.”

 

When they had finished talking, both sank into their thoughts.  Annika wondered how long they could carry on like this.  In his mind Vasko began to lay plans for their next meeting.

 

****

 

Annika opened up another message from Vasko and wrote down the details of his flight in her diary.  In his e-mail Vasko had asked her to be sure to bring her passport with her so they could rent a car.

 

She had to leave in two hours in order to pick him up.  Finally they’d be meeting again, she thought.  This long-distance thing was really beginning to irritate her enormously.

 

Annika took a shower, put on her new dress and some makeup.  For the last few months, in order to boost her mood, she had taken to wearing lipstick and mascara every day.  It made her feel better.  No matter how funny it might seem, she sometimes even did it in the evenings when she was home alone.  A few months earlier Annika had had adopted three “major” changes – the makeup, high heels and her newly established blog.  Otherwise she was the same Annika that Vasko had fallen in love with more than a year before.

 

The taxi service called to say that the taxi was waiting for her in the street.  Annika took her bag and ran down the stairs.  The taxi driver smiled when she got in.

 

“Where am I taking you, beautiful?”

 

“To the airport,” she smiled back.

 

They got stuck in a traffic jam, so she took out her book and continued reading the novel she had started the previous evening.

 

“Thank you! Keep the change,” said Annika as she paid the driver and ran out.  She was ten minutes late because of the traffic jam and wished she had left the house earlier.

 

She saw Vasko.  He was looking at his watch nervously, then all around. She ran up to him and they hugged.

 

“I thought you had forgotten about me,” said Vasko, pretending to be deeply insulted.

 

“How could I?” Annika smiled and kissed him on the lips.

In her high heels she no longer needed to stand on tip-toes to reach his mouth – very practical.

 

“C'mon, we’re late,” said
Vasko, and taking her hand he led her at a rapid pace away from the exit.

 

“Where are you taking me?”

 

“You'll see.  But we’re late.” Vasko was pulling Annika after him with one hand, and his small wheeled suitcase with the other.

 

“Take out your passport,” he instructed.

 

Annika fished her passport out of her handbag, and Vasko grabbed it from her hand.

 

“Now don't go off anywhere.  Just stand here.  Guard my suitcase until I come back,” he said in parental tones, as if Annika were some naughty five-year-old.

 

“Ok.”  Annika looked puzzled.

 

Some five minutes later, Vasko ran back.

 

“We don't have much time.  Our plane leaves in twenty minutes.  Get moving!”

 

“Our plane?”

 

“Yes,” Vasko smiled at her, and only now did it begin to dawn on Annika what was going on.

 

“Our plane to where???  Wait a minute.  I haven’t brought anything with me... I have not...”

 

“Hurry up!”  Vasko took her hand and the suitcase handle and they practically ran to the gate.

 

By the time they’d found their seats and sat down, Annika was just about breathless, both from the run and from the excitement.  Never in a million years would she have expected anything like this from Vasko, from the finance guy who merely evaluated and analyzed everything, from the guy who was so very shy when she’d first met him, from the Vasko who had been so indecisive about moving in with her that she’d had to take the initiative and rent the apartment for them herself.

 

Not until the plane was taxiing to the runway and the flight attendant had made an announcement did she find out that it was to Paris that they were flying.

 

“I know you have never been in Paris.  I haven't been there either but what I have heard is that it is the one place you are really supposed to go to with the person you love,” Vasko explained.

 

Annika smiled and leaned over to give him a kiss.  Her eyes showed how grateful she was.  They spent most of the flight hugging and kissing each other, to the intense annoyance of the lonelier passengers.

 

****

 

So that's how Annika and Vasko lived.  Managing the long-distance relationship was a challenge, but Vasko did his best to lighten things up by surprise visits and vacation trips.  They would meet up at various European airports, spend weekends in different cities and discover new cultures together.

 

Three weeks before Christmas they were discussing on Skype where should they go for a holiday.

 

“You know what?  I think I know where we should go.”

 

“Where?”

 

“Considering that we both feel homesick, I think we should go home.”

 

“Really?  Maybe,” said Annika doubtfully.

 

She did not really feel like going back, but then again, so long as she was with Vasko everywhere was fine.  In fact, if she was going to be completely honest with herself, she had to admit that she wasn't actually really that homesick.

 

“I will make the reservations and send you the itinerary.”

 

Vasko always took care of that sort of thing because that way he felt both in charge and self-confident - and he was the one with the much higher salary.

 

Annika smiled.  As a creative and original person she could be extremely unfocused, and organisation and logistics were not her strong point.  It was nice to have the privilege of not having to think about the practical issues of life whenever possible and of being able to concentrate on her feelings.

 

The very next day Annika received the itinerary and circled 22nd May on her wall calendar with a red marker.  Once again she had yet another positive date to look forward to.

 

27

 

“Hurry up!”

 

Monica ran from one room to the other wearing just her panties and bra.  She looked rather ridiculous in her underwear and heavy makeup, with white flowers arranged in her hair.

 

In all likelihood no groom has been present at the preparations during the hours just before his bride's wedding.  It is reckoned to be unlucky if the husband-to-be even glimpses his bride's wedding dress before the actual wedding ceremony.  That is why not one of them ever gets to see how nervous brides are, how hysterical they can become or how irrationally they act on their wedding day.  Nor do they witness the dramatic and complex procedures of all the sophisticated fine-tuning - how thick layers of makeup hide those little imperfections in a bride's skin, how the eyeliner makes her eyes look as if they are so much bigger, while the lipstick plumps up her lips.   How fortunate that the groom sees only the final result.

 

On the other hand, when two drug addicts get married, nobody should expect anything normal.  Stefan was sitting on the living-room floor in the new suit he had bought for the wedding, holding his guitar to his chest.  With a look full of apathy and pain he watched Monica running back and forth and wondered how he had ever got himself into such a situation.  He knew that it was all completely wrong, that it was someone else who ought to be in Monica's shoes and that, as a matter of fact, he absolutely loathed and despised her vulgar shoes.

 

Monica, on the other hand, was absolutely elated.  She had finally managed to bring about the day that she’d been waiting for for so long.  She had been nagging Stefan for ages that they should get married.  It had been her childhood dream to wear a white wedding dress and have a fairy-tale wedding day.  Strange how ordinary dreams can still co-exist with drug addiction!

 

Drugs had killed all her emotions one by one and Monica knew herself that this wedding was nothing to do with love.  She just wanted to turn her childhood dream into reality because she knew only too well that each passing day reduced the chance of anything good, bright and nice ever happening to her.

 

After many months of her wheedling, crying and begging, Stefan had finally given in and agreed to marry her, and today was the day.

 

“Stefan, please get up off the floor.  We have to leave in five minutes!”

 

All Stefan wanted was for her to shut up - oh and he wanted his fix, of course.  He wanted to get rid of the feeling that what he was on the point of doing was something very, very wrong.  It felt as if this was his last step towards the edge and that that irreversible step would completely destroy everything he still had.  All he had were his illusions, misery and pain, but at least they made him aware that he was still alive.

 

A few minutes later they walked to the church.  It was a mere five hundred metres from Stefan's apartment.  Monica tottered along in her high heels with unsteady gait.  She looked beautiful but artificial.

 

In contrast to Monica, Stefan looked very handsome but totally miserable.  His eyes were full of sadness and loneliness.  Were it not for the white flower poking out of the buttonhole on his suit lapel, and Monica in her wedding dress, you would have thought he was on his way to a funeral.

 

People were surprised to see the couple on the street.  It was unusual since weddings were associated with limousines, guests and flowers.  But then again, with Monica and Stefan nothing was usual.

 

“What time is this appointment with the pastor?” Stefan asked.

 

“Appointment?  Stefan, you make it sound as if it’s a visit to a doctor, for Christ's sake!” snapped Monica.

 

“So when is it?”  Stefan looked gloomy.

 

“In ten minutes’ time,” snarled Monica.

 

They kept on walking.  Both were thinking thoughts quite inappropriate for people who were going to be wed in ten minutes’ time.

 

Stefan thought of Annika, and with each step he looked back at their happy times together.  With each step he withdrew further from Monica and felt the absurdity of the whole situation.

 

Monica on the other hand thought that at least one of her dreams was at last going to come true. She thought that maybe she could be buried in her wedding dress when she died.  That would in all likelihood be at a relatively young age and from an overdose, so maybe...

 

They reached the church and went inside.  The building was empty and silent.  Jesus Christ looked down at them from his cross.  The staccato of Monica's high heels echoed resoundingly throughout the church.  Most probably it got on God's nerves too, thought Stefan.

 

The pastor came toward them with a big smile on his face.  He greeted them and, taking their hands, led them to the altar.

 

“Are you ready?”  He looked at them benignly.

 

“Yes,” Monica answered for both of them, as if feeling that Stefan might say something completely inappropriate.

 

Stefan was not listening to the pastor.  He was trying to listen to his heart instead.  Stefan's heart was opposed to everything that was happening there.  Stefan stood there and looked at the pastor.  He watched him talking but did not hear the words.  All Stefan wanted to do was turn around and leave.  Leave everything behind – Monica, the pastor, all his sins, his regrets, his memories... and everything else that made him realise how miserable he was.

 

He felt how Monica nudged his shoulder.

 

“Hey!”  She looked at him in astonishment.

 

“You did not answer, my son,” explained the pastor in a warm tone, which was in huge contrast to Monica's high, thin voice.

 

“I’m sorry,” was all that Stefan could say.

 

“What?”  Monica had a big question mark in her eyes.

 

Stefan turned to Monica.

 

“I said I’m sorry!” Stefan repeated.  “I can't.”

 

He took the rings from his pocket and handed them to the pastor.  Then he turned around and did exactly what he felt like doing – he left.

 

Monica was shouting something behind him.

 

The pastor looked down at the rings and thanked God that they had not ended up on Monica's and Stefan's fingers.

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