The fragile web of fantasylike joy which Dan and
Liliana had, without trying, spun over the past week was
suddenly broken on Saturday morning, and reality came
thundering in on them twenty-four hours ahead of its
scheduled arrival.
Dan slept late, by his usual standards, on Saturday
morning, and when he awakened he reached out to draw
Liliana close to him. "Good morning, my love," he said.
"Good morning," Liliana replied from a soft, sleepy
haze.
He rubbed his hands over her back and leaned down
to kiss her long purple nipples, then let his hands roam
over her legs and between her thighs. She rolled on to
her back and spread her legs, and he rubbed the soft
triangle of Italian silk like hair on her mount of
Venus, then gently slipped his finger between the lips
of her vagina.
"I"m already wet and hot," she whispered. "I think
I was dreaming that we were making love. I'm on the
verge of coming right now. Will you fuck me?" She
pulled him over on top of her and he pressed deep into
her.
With no more than two or three strokes she started to quiver and moan. "Oh, God, Dan, I'm coming! Oh,
yes, fuck me! Aye Dio, mi amore, si, si, si."
Her cries quickened his desire, and he pressed
harder and faster to come at the same time. "Liliana,"
he groaned, "Oh Liliana, my precious, Liliana, I love
you."
He kissed her ears, her forehead and finally her
mouth before rolling off her, and she turned onto her
side with her back to him. He slipped his hand over her
breast and held her close and pressed against her.
"What a beautiful way to start the day," he whispered
and kissed her shoulders.
They lay quietly for several minutes then she spoke
from a hazy dreamland. "Can I sleep for a few more
minutes? You can get up if you want. I know you like
to get up and drink coffee in the morning."
"Yes, you can sleep," he said. "I'll get up in a
minute, but now I just want to hold you."
He lay beside her for several minutes, and when, by
her slow steady breathing, Dan could tell that she had
dropped off to sleep again, he carefully slipped out
from between the sheets.
He walked out to the terrace and a cool, fresh
breeze was blowing. After making a pot of coffee he
poured a fresh cup and walked to the edge of the deck to inhale deeply of the fresh sweet air. It's going to be
a good day for sailing, he thought, and then remembered
that Liliana's daughter, Juliana, wanted him to take her
sailing. Dan had been able to borrow a small life
jacket from Jean Pierre, and he hoped that Liliana would
let him take her out. He was running through a scenario
in his mind where he would sail up to meet them at the
Italian Club when his attention was suddenly diverted by
the sound of a low flying aircraft. With only one
flight a week in and out of Mogadishu the sound of an
airplane was strange. He looked north toward the point
from where the engine roar was coming and saw a
camouflaged C-130 flying low over the reef on his final
approach into the Mogadishu airport. It was the same
approach used by the once-a-week, red, white and green,
Alitalia DC-8. The C-130 had the same, red, white and
green, markings, but they were those of the Italian Air
Force.
Dan immediate thought was that he had totally
miscalculated when he dismissed the threat of danger to
the local Italian population, and that Rome had
dispatched a rapid deployment force to protect them. He
wondered if last night, while he and Liliana were lost
in their Spanish fantasy, making love or sleeping,
something had occurred to provoke this response. He decided to wait an hour or so before getting on the
phone or going down to the embassy to see what had
happened, but his own phone rang in about forty-five
minutes. He walked inside the hut to pick up the
receiver.
"Hello," he said.
"Dan?" a woman's voice asked.
"Yes,"
"This is Marie-Claude. I just had a telephone call
from Liliana's husband, Carlo. He's at home. He came
in on an Italian Air Force plane that was sent to pick
up Mario Bianchi's body. I told him that Liliana had
just gone down to the Italian Beach Club, and he said he
would look for her there, so she better get over to the
club. Is she still with you?"
"Yes, I'll tell her. Thank you, Marie-Claude.
I'll talk to you later," he said and hung up the phone
then rushed into the bedroom.
"Liliana," he said. "Carlo is in Mogadishu. He
just came in on an Italian Air Force plane, and he's on
his way to look for you at the Italian Club."
She sat up, then jumped out of bed and ran naked
around the room picking up her panties, shoes and
stockings where they had been casually tossed the night
before. Rummaging in her overnight bag, she found her bikini bathing suit and quickly wiggled into it. Taking
a rubber band from the case she pulled her hair into a
pony tail, then stuffed the panties, hose and shoes in
before closing it.
"My purse, where is my purse with the keys to the
car?"
"Right here," he said and handed it to her along
with her dress. What else do you need?"
"Nothing," she said and laughed. "If there's
anything else around here, hide it, and I'll pick it up
later." She looked in the mirror. "God, I've still got
eye makeup on, but tempis." She ran for the door. "I
love you. I'll call you later just as soon as I can."
He followed her to the car, and waited while she
fumbled with the key, then he helped her load her things
inside.
"Call me just as soon as you can, either here or at
the embassy. If you can't talk, let the phone ring
twice and hang up to let me know that you're okay," he
said and leaned over to smear a kiss on her. "I love
you - call me."
"I will," she said and blew a kiss. "Ciao." She
put the car in gear, backed up, then jammed it into
first gear to pull a fast U-turn - the car fishtailed as
she roared out on to Lido Road to head toward the Italian Club.
Dan walked back inside the hut to shower and shave,
then dressed in his tennis clothes, before returning to
the deck for another cup of coffee. Since Carlo and
Liliana lived on the other side of town, near Kilometer
Four, Dan felt certain that she could get to the Italian
Club before Carlo arrived. She might even have time to
wash her face and remove the eye makeup that had
disturbed her, he thought, then chuckled to himself as
he recalled her rushing naked around the bedroom to pick
up her things.
He paced the deck, sipped coffee and let his
thoughts roam between concern for Liliana, guilt over
being a married man involved with a married woman, and
speculation as to the significance of the sudden arrival
the Italian Air Force plane. He had, at least, gotten a
quick partial explanation for this later phenomenon, and
he was pleased and relieved that the circumstances were
not the worst case scenario that he had so quickly
formulated in his mind.
With all his pacing the deck, Dan realized that the
true cause of his restless tension was concern for
Liliana's well being, and fear that they would be forced
into some precipitous, premature, hasty and poorly
thought out action. Or, even worse, that either one of them would be confronted by an angry, enraged cuckolded
husband. Dan had no idea what sort of man Carlo was,
nor what his response might be if he were to find out
about Liliana and him. The only thing Dan had to go on
was the stereotyped image that he carried in his mind of
the dramatic and emotional, so called typical Italian
male, and with this he could easily conjure up visions
of ugly violent scenes between either Carlo and him,
Carlo and Liliana, or Carlo and both of them.
His imagination was so vivid that Dan could almost
see the headline in the Washington Post - ENRAGED HUSBAND
SHOOTS DIPLOMAT, so when in less than an hour the phone
inside the hut rang once, then again and stopped, he
felt a wave of relief pass through him. He was pleased
that Liliana had been thoughtful enough to call him so
quickly, and he made a conscious decision to use a
strategy that he frequently followed in his practice of
diplomacy which is to deal with problems in the order of
their appearance.
He called for the duty driver to pick him up, and
when the car arrived he left the hut to go to the
embassy before going on to the tennis club. As they
drove down Lido Road they passed the Italian Club where
he saw that Liliana's red Alfa was sitting in the
parking lot next to the little government of Somalia Fiat 600 that Dan knew Carlo used. Dan felt a flicker
of jealous, possessive anger as he thought about the two
of them spending the day together, a day for which he
had great expectations and plans that had included an
intimate supper for just the two of them. For just a
moment Dan thought of walking into the club to confront
Carlo, and walk out with Liliana.
Dan had learned enough in his sixty-plus years,
however, to know that in love one has an opportunity to
experience a roller coaster ride of rare emotions, and
he hoped that in his love for Liliana he would not be
overwhelmed by these emotions. In that brief inner
skirmish between instinct and reason, his heart and his
head, Dan understood how powerful the heart, instincts
and emotions, can be, but fortunately, in that little
battle with himself, reason prevailed and he continued
on without stopping.
Dan did stop at the Italian Embassy, however, to
sign books of condolence for Mario and Antonio, before
going to the American Embassy, and he learned from the
Somali clerk at the desk that a memorial service was
planned in the Cathedral for both men on Sunday evening
after Antonio's sister, Marlisa di Paulo, arrived in
Mogadishu on the Sunday morning Alitalia flight. At
Antonio's request, which was contained in his will, his body was to be buried in Somalia, on his plantation.
Mario's remains, however, were to be flown to Rome on
the Air Force plane that had arrived that morning.
When Dan signed the Marine Guard's log of after
hours visitors in the American Embassy he once again saw
that both Dave Winters and Colonel Jamison were already
in the chancery, and he called them both to his office.
"I guess you guys know that an Italian Air Force
plane came in this morning to pick up Mario Bianchi's
body," Dan said.
"I didn't know that was the reason for the flight,"
Dave said. "What I heard was that the Somali's asked
the Italians to send in an aircraft accident
investigation team, and they came in on the plane this
morning. But it's also a little exercise in muscle
flexing and flag showing. The Italians wanted to prove
that if there ever really was any threat to Italian
nationals they can get a plane in here fast. That plane
could have just as easily been carrying some troops.
Where'd you get your information about picking up
Mario's body?"
"I stopped by the Italian Embassy to sign the
condolence books and the Somali clerk on duty told me,"
Dan said. He made no mention of the fact that Marie-Claude had been the first to tell him less than an hour after the plane landed. Nor did Dan mention that the
Italian government had saved the price of a one-way
ticket between Rome and Mogadishu by sending Carlo
Brancusi on the same flight. "It actually sounds like
the Italians had a lot of reasons for sending the plane
down here, and the fact that the Somalis invited the
investigation team to come means that they are telling
the truth. There was no connection between the army and
the plane crash."
"There's no doubt in my mind that they're telling
the truth," Jack Jamison said. "I talked to General
Said, the Commander of the Army, last night at the
French Embassy, and he convinced me."
"Me, too," Dan said. "How about the trouble up on
the Ethiopian border? Did he say anything about that?"
"Not much," Jamison said. "He just confirmed that
they were moving some troops up to reinforce the ones
they already have up there. He was pretty closed
mouthed."
"He always is," Dan said. "You know that Said is
the hardest of the hard-liners, and if there's ever a
coup in this country it will begin with Said."
"I think you're right, Dan," Dave Winters said.
"Said is smart, and he's ambitious, but right now he's
keeping a very low profile. He knows he doesn't have the support to roll into Ethiopia, and he knows his army
isn't well enough trained or equipped to take on the
Ethiopians."
"I know, and I'm glad that's the case. I think we
can put this plane crash issue to rest and enjoy what's
lef t of the weekend," Dan said. "I'm going to go out
and play tennis."
Dan played tennis the rest of the morning, and when
he returned to town he noticed that Liliana's car was
gone from the parking lot of the Italian Club. He
stopped and had lunch alone at the Anglo-American Club,
then returned to his beach hut about two in the
afternoon feeling lonely and depressed. The sudden loss
of the intense, high pitched activity of the past week,
the thrill of new, exciting and frequent sex, and the
luxury of having Liliana's exclusive attention left him
at odds with himself, and unable to concentrate on
anything except Liliana. He longed to hear her
infectious laughter and lighthearted chatter, and to
feel the warmth of her presence nearby. He thought
about taking the sunfish out, but he could not generate
enough enthusiasm to actually do it. He tried reading,
but he ended up reading the same sentence two or three
times and he still didn't know what he had read. He
walked on the beach, and came back to the hut feeling more lost and forlorn than when he left. It seemed that
every grain of sand along that long, lonely, windswept
strip of wild open beach, where they had walked together
so many times, reminded him of Liliana, and he felt a
huge, gaping hole in his chest. For the first time he
felt the desolate isolation of Mogadishu.
About four o'clock he saw Maggie Chandler walking
alone along the edge of the water headed up the beach,
and his outlook became even more bleak. For a moment
Dan thought of calling to Maggie to invite her up for a
drink, then he considered joining her, and even telling
her that he knew exactly how she felt since he was in
the same boat that she was in. His lover, who in the
brief span of a few days he had interiorized to make her
an important part of himself, had suddenly and without
warning been snatched away from him. He wondered if
Maggie and Antonio had made any plans to put their lives
together, or were they, as Liliana and he were doing,
just living one day at a time, like two children in
paradise.
Dan didn't call to Maggie, nor did he join her, and
he realized that he and Maggie were not in the same
boat. Antonio was dead, but Liliana was very much
alive, and they had plans for the future. Then it
dawned on him that he had not discussed with Liliana the plans, which, in his mind, would allow him to have his
cake and eat it too. He had asked her to marry him, she
had said yes, but then he had stammered something about
having to retire and look for a teaching job without
telling her that he wanted to continue in Mogadishu
until the first of next year when the administration
changed. These were the things that he wanted to
discuss with her today, he thought, and during the
supper that they would have had tonight.
From this point Dan lapsed into a wave of fear and
doubt that once back in the comfortable reality of her
own home, with her child and husband, Liliana would
think that the past week had been nothing more than a
brief affair, a Cinderella fantasy, and she might even
doubt that Dan was sincere when he asked her to marry
him. She might think that he had been caught up in a
moment of passion - that he had asked her to marry him
out of guilt, or that he was immersed in some romantic
illusion, and that he had not thought through all of the
implications of his proposal. She might even realize
that she had said yes for the same reasons.
Dan put his hand to his head to stop the swirl of
negative, 'what if' thoughts, and he suddenly felt an
overpowering desire to see and talk to Liliana to
reaffirm his love for her, and to hear her reassure him of her love. He wanted to tell her of the plans he had
made, and hear if these plans met with her idea of what
they should do. And if they didn't, he wanted to know
what she would like to do, what her plans were. Then,
almost as though his desire were manifesting itself in
reality, he looked south down the beach, toward the
breakwater dock and the Italian Club, to see Liliana,
still dressed in her bikini bathing suit, striding along
the beach, arms swinging with long determined steps. He
blinked his eyes and shook his head to make sure that he
was not imagining that it was Liliana, then she waved to
him.
Dan waved back, jumped down the steps, two at a
time, and ran across the sand to meet her. Taking her
hand in his, he fell in step with her to walk back to
the hut.
"I came down here earlier this morning, but you
were gone," she said.
"I went to the embassy, and then out to play
tennis," he replied. "I had to do something to keep
from worrying about you, but it didn't do much good. I
worried about you anyway."
"I'm glad you did something," she said. "I was
worried about you being all alone down here."
They reached the steps to the deck of the beach hut, climbed up, then walked inside the hut, out of view
of any passers by. He took her in his arms to kiss her,
and all of the doubts and negative thinking that had
possessed him earlier dissolved as he held her close.
"Is everything all right? he asked.
"On yes," she said. "Thank God I told Marie-Claude
what was going on - not that I really care if Carlo
finds out - it just makes things easier for both of us."
"I agree," Dan said. "We'll talk more about that
later, but first tell me what happened. Do you have
time for a drink?"
"Yes, a Campari and soda," she said. "Shall we
stay inside?"
"Yes," he said. "Let's do. I'll fix the drinks
and be right back. Make yourself at home." He kissed
her again and walked back out to the bar on the deck,
fixed the drinks, then returned to where Liliana was
sitting on the sofa inside the hut.
He handed the drink to her, pecked a kiss on her
cheek, and sat down beside her. "Now then, tell me what
happened."
"Well, I got to the beach club before Carlo
arrived, and I had time to wash my face and fix my hair
so I didn't look as though I had been wallowing around
in bed with a man," she said and laughed. "Carlo arrived, we stayed for breakfast, and he went to the
office."
"He went to the office after being gone for how
long?" Dan asked.
"Three weeks," she replied. "You don't know Carlo.
He can't stand to be with me for more than a couple of
hours."
"I'm sorry I interrupted you," Dan said. "Go
ahead."
"Anyway, when he went to the office I came back
down here, but you were gone, and I went back to the
beach club, then home to fix lunch. He came home for
lunch, stayed for a while then went back to the office ȘI came back to the beach club, and here I am."
"That's all?" Dan asked.
"That's all." she replied.
"I don't think I understand Carlo," Dan said and
shook his head.
"I know what you're thinking," she said. "You
think we should have made love, but let me tell you that
Carlo has no passion. It may be days before he wants to
make love. All of this talk about the passion of
Italian men is myth if he's any example." She paused
and was thoughtful for a moment. "I wonder if Carlo has
a mistress in Rome?" she said with all sincerity. "You know I never thought about that possibility, but it
could be true. I always thought he was a workaholic, or
that he couldn't really stand me."
"If he does have a mistress, he's crazy," Dan said.
"Aren't all 'holics crazy? If he is a 'holic," she
said with a tone of thoughtful doubt. "Anyway, if he
does want to make love, I'm going to dream up my period.
He can't stand to touch me when I'm having my period."
"I'll take you anytime," Dan said. "With or
without your period. I want you anytime you want me."
"I know," she said, "and that makes me feel good.
It makes me feel like a woman. It makes me feel like a
woman who is loved and wanted." She paused and sipped
her drink. "Do you want me now?"
"Do you have time?" he asked and he could feel
desire swelling in him.
"I'll take time," she said and stood up to pull off
her bathing suit.
"I want you, Liliana," he said. "I want you now -
right here."
They lay on a rough, thick North African rug on the
floor of the hut. She was hot and moist when he pressed
into her, and with just a few hard deep strokes her body
quivered with orgasms until he came inside of her.
"Liliana," he whispered. "My sweet, precious, Liliana. I love you so much."
A soft, dusky light filtered though the persiana
shutters when they got up. Liliana wiggled into the
bottom of her bathing suit and Dan pulled his trunks
back on then they walked out toward the deck. "There
were a lot of things I wanted to tell you, but they can
wait until tomorrow," he said. "Can you switch my
language lesson tomorrow until two in the afternoon?"
"Well, Mr. Ambassador, I don't generally make
changes in my students schedules, but in your case I
think I can be flexible. Yes, I can come at two
tomorrow. You're a very special student, and I'll
reschedule an afternoon class that I have with the U.N."
"Thank you," Dan said and slipped his arm around
her. "That will give me time to pick up Rita at the
airport tomorrow morning and digest what ever her plans
might be. I hope she holds true to form and is just
here for a visit."
"Speaking of plans, I forgot to mention that Carlo
is looking for another assignment back in Rome. He says
he hates Mogadishu, and he doesn't like all this
commuting."
They were at the top of the steps. "Maybe he does
have a mistress in Rome," Dan said and kissed her
quickly on the mouth. "I wonder?" she said. "I hope so. I'll see you
tomorrow at two. Ciao. I love you."
"I love, you, darling," he said. "Ciao."
She jumped down the steps and ran to the edge of
the water, then turned to wave before setting off toward
the Italian Club in her long legged, determined, arm
swinging stride.
