I liked the use of the word 'chattel'. One wonders if it and 'cattle' have the same root origins...
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Apparently! Chattel - C13 Middle English chatel : from Old French chatel personal property, from Medieval Latin capitāle wealth; cattle - Middle English catel, property, livestock: from Old North French, from Old Provencal capdal, from Medieval Latin capitāle, holdings, funds, from neuter of Latin capitālis, principal, original, from caput, head; see kaput- in Indo-European roots.
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I’m silent as we bounce along towards the restaurant. It’s a warm evening, almost sultry, as if a storm is brewing. The terrace is full of people and lights and the tinkle of chatter. Tristana squeezes my hand and I manage a weak smile. It does look beautiful though. Markus is already here and comes forward to greet each of us with a kiss, then leads us to our table. My mind is just floating somewhere else, as though I am in a dream. We’re sitting and Brangane and Tristana are telling Markus about our trip to the forest and the strange girl we met there. About how sure she was of herself, about her destiny and what she wanted from her life. Markus smiles.
“Well, it’s not so unusual you know girls. To know what you want, I mean. And to set about things so that you get it... I think it’s actually important to know what you want. Don’t you, Brangane?”
She doesn’t answer, just drops her eyes to the table, trying to stare through the cloth and through the wood to her feet below.
“And you, Gisela. Do you know what you want?”
I’m trapped. I can’t say. I dare not say. I mumble something. He’s looking straight into my eyes.
The waiter brings a bottle of champagne and an ice-bucket. He asks Markus whether he should open and pour it. Markus nods. The glasses fill with their sparkling gold. A piano is playing inside, in the dining room. Markus stands, to make a toast.
“So, Gisela, this is to us. Gisela, I...”
I know what he is about to say.
“Gisela, will you do me the great honour.... of becoming my wife?”
I don’t know what to say. I have to say something. We’re all standing, holding up our glasses. Everyone has turned to look at us; there’s a stir inside the restaurant. I have to say something.
“I....I.... Markus....I.... Of course Markus....Yes....Yes of course Markus....”
I can feel a tear, a very small tear, running down my cheek.
“Well, it’s not so unusual you know girls. To know what you want, I mean. And to set about things so that you get it... I think it’s actually important to know what you want. Don’t you, Brangane?”
She doesn’t answer, just drops her eyes to the table, trying to stare through the cloth and through the wood to her feet below.
“And you, Gisela. Do you know what you want?”
I’m trapped. I can’t say. I dare not say. I mumble something. He’s looking straight into my eyes.
The waiter brings a bottle of champagne and an ice-bucket. He asks Markus whether he should open and pour it. Markus nods. The glasses fill with their sparkling gold. A piano is playing inside, in the dining room. Markus stands, to make a toast.
“So, Gisela, this is to us. Gisela, I...”
I know what he is about to say.
“Gisela, will you do me the great honour.... of becoming my wife?”
I don’t know what to say. I have to say something. We’re all standing, holding up our glasses. Everyone has turned to look at us; there’s a stir inside the restaurant. I have to say something.
“I....I.... Markus....I.... Of course Markus....Yes....Yes of course Markus....”
I can feel a tear, a very small tear, running down my cheek.
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Pia
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But....but.... I am not so sure that she is so sure...."there may be troubles ahead"....Hum.... Gisela, you seem not convinced ... I know, the choice is hard, but in these times, perhaps it could be more cautious to become a well-behaved wife than to be a ........ You understand me, I think .....
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Oooh - sorry! Just had to! Kisses and Merry Christmas everyone!!!!
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Pia
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Everyone else is smiling and clinking glasses. Everyone else is celebrating the engagement. The terrace is full of noise and colour. Brangane and Tristana chatter together, Markus accepts congratulations from other diners. The food comes out and wine is poured. The air is becoming stifling, as if a storm is brewing. Gisela stares at her plate, lost in a daze. A sudden breeze arises, lifting the cloths on the unoccupied tables and clattering over empty wine glasses. The waiters rush around; the first heavy drops of rain smack onto the glass terrace canopy. Thunder cracks in the distance, lightening severing the black of the night, flower baskets swing wildly from their hangings on the lamp standards.
As quickly as the storm had risen, it subsides, leaving a rich scent of earth and vegetation and decay lingering in the still warm air. Gisela smiles, leans over towards Markus and places a single kiss on his cheek.
As quickly as the storm had risen, it subsides, leaving a rich scent of earth and vegetation and decay lingering in the still warm air. Gisela smiles, leans over towards Markus and places a single kiss on his cheek.
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Pia
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Chapter 9
Brangane wakes to a fresh and breezy morning, the wind flapping the awnings above the windows of the villa in Hubertus Allee. Gisela is already sitting on the terrace, dressed in a white summer dress of the lightest cotton, her hair pinned up, her eyes engrossed in her book of poetry.
“How does it feel, Gisela? Are you alright?”
“Strange. Strange. Very strange. I suppose that I knew this was somehow inevitable. How was I to know I would fall in love with Tristana? How was anyone to know? And it’s Tristana that has brought me to Markus. But she’s also taught me what love really is. Oh dear, Brangane! What’s to be done? I am trapped, aren’t I?”
Brangane stoops, crouches low, so that her face is looking up into Gisela’s tearful eyes. She takes her hands in her own, squeezing gently.
“It will be alright sweetness. There will be a way, you’ll see. He’s a good man I think... I know it means nothing to you, but... I... I sort of envy you. But no, that’s silly. I know.... Oh dear girl. It will be alright...”
“I think we both know that’s a big lie isn’t it, Brangane? Nothing will ever be alright ever again. I’ll live, I suppose. I’m sure he’s a good person and will be a good husband...But... He isn’t what I want! How can I live a lie for all my life? I... I just don’t know Brangane... I am so lost. I...I have to see her Brangane. I have to see her...”
“Well, we’ll see Tristana for lunch with Markus won’t we? Don’t you remember? We agreed....”
“No Brangane! No! I mean I have to see her and be with her. Just us two. Us two together alone. I need to spend time with her. If I am not to be hers, then at least I must be with her. I must! Tonight Brangane! I must! Will you help me? Please Brangane.... You must help me!”
My face falls into my hands. I am weeping. I have to think. There has to be a way. I must lie with her. I cannot be without her. I must.
“Tonight Brangane. I will go late to the Nordstrand. To the changing pavilion. You know the one. Very late, once everyone has gone home. I will wait for her there Brangane. I... I will take a light, a candle. The light will tell her I am there. I will wait for Tristana and... and we will spend the dark hours of the night together. If I am to be without her, then at least I will have one perfect memory to treasure. Will you help me, Brangane? I need you to tell her. Please! I need you to go to her before lunch, before we are there with Markus. I need you to be my secret messenger. Will you do it for me Brangane?”
“Gisela. You know I will. Of course I will.”
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Pia
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It's Zoppot - where my scene is set.... to be precise, the Nordbad, where Gisela will be later on with her candle.... Zoppot is the modern-day Sopot in Poland, between Gdansk and Gdynia. I have an almost endless supply of period postcards, which is nice!hm - the countryside looks English, but I can't place it -
it's a very atmospheric period postcard, wherever it is!
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The chain on Brangane’s bike rattles loosely as she pedals over the cobbles the short distance to Tristana’s villa; the air warming as the sun rises higher in the summer sky. She pulls on the bell and Melot answers. Tristana’s sitting in the conservatory, looking so much like Gisela in her cool dress. They greet each other with a kiss and sad smiles. Melot brings in a silver tray with the coffee jug and two cups; Brangane waits until he’s gone, then explains the plan. Tonight as the clock strikes one. Gisela will be there on the Nordstrand, her light showing the place. Brangane will keep watch and sound an alarm if she needs to, but no-one will know. They will be safe. They will have the night together. They will have their precious night by the Baltic Sea. No-one will know.
Very quietly Melot eases the last few inches of the door closed and waits, silently, in the hallway.
Very quietly Melot eases the last few inches of the door closed and waits, silently, in the hallway.
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Chapter 10
“Brangane, Brangane...do you hear the bell sound? I hear only the rustling of the leaves, the gentle splash of the waves on the shore in the silence of the night. Do you hear the clock tower sound? Is it the hour?”
“Oh sweet Gisela, I’m afraid for you. Here in this lonely place. I feel troubled...Gisela, think again. You can see her in the morning, she will be there for you.... “
“Brangane, don’t be afraid. There, I hear the bell. The single toll. Don’t be afraid. She will come for me and all will be well. It is the power of love Brangane. It rules all our destinies, it guides our hands. Do not worry for me. Here, pass me the candle, I’ll light it now. Then go and stand watch for us. She will come soon, I know.”
She hears footsteps outside. Tristana’s hand on the door latch. They embrace and extinguish the light.
“Oh my darling, my sweetness, my love. Come close. At last we can share the darkness together, oh how I have longed to share the night with you my love. Rather the night than the falseness of the day. Come, come Tristana, come inside with me. Come.”
Brangane closes the door behind the two lovers, whispering almost silently:
“Gisela, Gisela. Take care my dear sister. The dawn will soon be here; night will fade; the dangers of the day will return.. I am afraid, dear sister...I am afraid...”
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She slips quietly away into the shadows of the moon, keeping her lonely watch.
“Gisela, my love!”
“Tristana, darling!”
The two girls kiss, embrace tightly, their faces locked as one.
“Are you mine Tristana? Dare I hold you?”
“Can I really believe it, Gisela? At last! Us two! At last! At last!”
“Hold me again Tristana, hold me!”
“On my breast! Here Gisela!”
“Is it really you I’m feeling?”
“Is it you I’m seeing Gisela, here in this moonlight?”
“Are these your eyes Tristana?”
“This your mouth Gisela?”
The girls, touching, holding, move slowly across the wooden floor, their fingers reaching into each others clothes; sliding, pulling, ripping themselves free; body against body, staggering, squeezing, falling to the cushions in the corner of the darkened room.
“Your hand Tristana...”
“Is it I? Is it you? You, here, clasped in my arms Gisela? Not an illusion? Is it really you my love?”
“It’s not a dream Tristana! It’s us. Together at last, as one, together! I’m overflowing Tristana!”
They roll together, breast to breast, legs entwined, fingers folded together, lips sealed together in a deep, slow kiss, hands reaching to faces, touching, exploring, discovering. Heart on heart, mouth on mouth, their breaths a single breath.
“Gisela, my love!”
“Tristana, darling!”
The two girls kiss, embrace tightly, their faces locked as one.
“Are you mine Tristana? Dare I hold you?”
“Can I really believe it, Gisela? At last! Us two! At last! At last!”
“Hold me again Tristana, hold me!”
“On my breast! Here Gisela!”
“Is it really you I’m feeling?”
“Is it you I’m seeing Gisela, here in this moonlight?”
“Are these your eyes Tristana?”
“This your mouth Gisela?”
The girls, touching, holding, move slowly across the wooden floor, their fingers reaching into each others clothes; sliding, pulling, ripping themselves free; body against body, staggering, squeezing, falling to the cushions in the corner of the darkened room.
“Your hand Tristana...”
“Is it I? Is it you? You, here, clasped in my arms Gisela? Not an illusion? Is it really you my love?”
“It’s not a dream Tristana! It’s us. Together at last, as one, together! I’m overflowing Tristana!”
They roll together, breast to breast, legs entwined, fingers folded together, lips sealed together in a deep, slow kiss, hands reaching to faces, touching, exploring, discovering. Heart on heart, mouth on mouth, their breaths a single breath.
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They roll together, breast to breast, legs entwined, fingers folded together, lips sealed together in a deep, slow kiss, hands reaching to faces, touching, exploring, discovering. Heart on heart, mouth on mouth, their breaths a single breath.
How much passion can be packed into a little more than one line....PK, just set a new record here!!
Guiness book?