One of Svetlana’s colleagues was staying at this residence; a Moldovan with whom she got along more or less well. They were not always on the same wavelength, unlike her Ukrainian friend who was basically her personality twin. Physically though, this was not the case. Although both tall, the Ukrainian had dark hair and was slender. Svetlana envied her thinness, even if in return this girl was suffering from a Lilliputian chest. Svetlana also did not have very developed breasts. For her body size, it seemed to her that what she had were a little too small. One of her exes had drawn her attention by pointing out that if she had a cup size of about a thirty-six C or D, she would have enjoyed a body likely to captivate any male! Would not she rather have looked like a vulgar bimbo? To create a certain illusion, she used padded bras like many young women her age.
At work, Svetlana never had the same hours two days in a row. She hated to start late in the morning or worse, early in the afternoon. On those days she would finish after nine o’clock. That was very late to go home. She did not like not being able to enjoy free time after her work day.
Svetlana liked to look at the handbags. When the opportunity arose, she would hang them on her arm. She imagined that it was hers. Her daydreaming was usually cut short. Either a client came to ask for information, or she wanted to buy the one that Svetlana was holding.
Brands like Cartier, Ralph Lauren or Dolce & Gabbana easily surpassed a thousand euros. Other kinds were even close to two thousand. There were all sizes, from disproportionately giant to miniscule. Svetlana was fascinated with them and often admired them. As she was entitled to a twenty percent discount on the price by being a saleswoman, she made weekly favourite purchases at the great benefit of her employer. Generally, she did not spend more than fifty euros, including discount. If Svetlana was paid more, she would not have hesitated to invest in the luxurious items from the shop. In a way, she was a real fashion victim, but also of the consumer society. Without a purse on her arm, Svetlana did not feel whole, as if a part of her femininity was missing.
The workweek ended without meeting, so they had made a date to spend Saturday evening together at Frank’s apartment.
Frank had just received an SMS from Svetlana. She explained to him that she had gotten lost. She was in the neighbourhood, except that she had not remembered how to get to his place. Frank called her back. He advised her to wait for him at the metro. He went to join her. At the spot, Frank did not see Svetlana. She was not in the right place, which further complicated the situation. According to the descriptions of the environment she had given him on the phone, Frank had guessed that she had come out the metro too early. He went to meet her, barely a ten minute walk. Arrived at the station, behind a sign that contained the map of Paris, he had distinguished two female legs that protruded from a short skirt. He realised immediately that it was her. He had approached her and held her neck between his thumb and middle finger. Surprised, she had contracted.
“Haaaaa!”
Svetlana had just let out a little cry of surprise more than fear. She had turned around. He smiled. They kissed languidly, not caring about the presence of any passer-by.
Once at the apartment, they went straight for the bed. Dinner could wait. Their appetite was much more carnal. With the tumultuous act of love accomplished, Svetlana had asked him if he had ice cream. In the summer, he liked to eat it occasionally; he had a box in the freezer. They were big magnums. Svetlana was satisfied. She wanted a second one. Their workout had made her hungry. Before going to bed, they took a shower together, between the exchange of caresses, foam and kisses. Svetlana had not brought anything to sleep in. She was so eager to meet him that it had slipped her mind. She asked Frank for a T-shirt. Frank had chosen a specific one that would offer the greatest comfort to his gem. Made of microfiber fabric, the fabric was lightweight and extremely soft. Svetlana appreciated the clothes he lent her. The velvety appearance provided a pleasant feeling against her skin.
In the bed, in the dim light, relaxed on Frank’s chest, Svetlana questioned him. She wanted to know if he had a child. The question had come out suddenly, without warning. Frank was quite surprised. Asked like that, the question seemed intrusive to him. Had she looked in his papers and documents when she was alone in the morning, after their first shared night? To him the subject seemed natural to talk about, but why did she ask about that so specifically and not on anything else? Had she looked for information about him, out of curiosity, to know him better? If that was the case, he did not appreciate this behaviour, which would indicate an abnormal curiosity or an unhealthy suspicion—basically an intrusiveness he did not want. However, it was useless to lie to her. Frank had already considered telling her about this important part of his life.
“Yes, I have a child…” he replied.
He would have liked this discussion to happen much later, once he had been assured of the proper evolution of their relationship. He was aware that at the beginning of a story everything appears under wonderful auspices; La vie en rose. Everyone knows how amazing Aphrodite is before she turns into an Amazonian warmonger. On the other hand, the question was welcomed because it gave him the chance to makes things clear. He then asked her if this revelation was a problem for her. She had told him no, for the moment she was not bothered. What did she mean by “for the moment”? This reply intrigued Frank, even if it was a positive reaction; unless he saw in it the sign of certain immaturity or a potential wish to pursue nothing serious with him; take advantage, enjoy the freedom, without ever investing. Yet, in comparison with his ex who behaved in a diametrically opposite way, he was surprised to notice that at a young age this woman seemed to react positively. However, for the ex in question, Frank had thought that she was absolutely honest in her intentions with him. The situation had revealed to Frank what her true desires and feelings were. His disappointment only meant that he had had a sincere desire to be with her.
In a few words, Frank had explained to Svetlana how he had managed to become a father without ever having considered it. Svetlana did not fully understand the situation. In consolation, she wanted to look at pictures. He had warned her that he did not have many. He could not spend much time with his son. His relationship with the mother was very tense. From their story, no romance to tell. Between them, the doors of the Chthonian powers were ajar. The alacrity of the first days had given way to a rough battlefield. Frank had brought out an album which presented the child from birth until he was one and a half years old; he was still very small. Svetlana had appeared happy to discover the little lad. She had asked him about the colour of the skin, “Isn’t he too dark?”
Frank froze, flabbergasted by the involuntary invective. How could she ask that question? Frank had simply replied that he was less so than the mother. He tried not to linger on the question. Svetlana apologized, noticing Frank’s reaction. She had continued to turn the pages. She was looking at the different shots. Frank watched her. He realised that she was squinting her right eye from time to time, as if she were trying to better distinguish certain details. Did she have a vision problem? Frank wanted to know. Svetlana gave in. Her right eye was suffering from ametropia. She did not want to wear glasses. Her visual perception was pretty good overall. Although