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Rated: · Chapter · Experience · #1933825
Story of a mans journey from memory loss to forgiveness
Soon after settling in London in the spring of 1987, Victoria Jacobs began to work exclusively for one very special client, the highly esteemed Aramis DeVignê – eccentric, because he was extraordinarily matchless in every way, a man to which know one in her life could compare. And had she not seen it herself, Aramis would never have been able to convince Victoria he could dance with the elegance of a gazelle, but he could. He had a muscular physique, a most powerful stature, yet his natural bearing was poised, sophisticated - illustrious even, and very much in contrast to the superior image of a man who brawled in a cage for money. The retired Cage fighter was one of the first people Victoria met when she relocated to the capital to teach contemporary dance at an exclusive academy where she worked for two years teaching children to waltz, tango and foxtrot - until the summer of 1989 that is, when she resigned to run her own public entertainment business. By which time, Aramis was her lover, her business partner and her lead dancer. Wherever Aramis’s natural talents came from, he was Victoria’s favourite pupil– and she loved him even more because he’d made her dream of teaching and performing erotic dance come true. Aramis had a beautifully preternatural aura about him, there was something transcendental in his lustrous eyes that had drawn her to him – a thing so otherworldly that Victoria was never able to put into words, but was mysteriously able to fuse it into her choreography of both classical and modern dance, while Aramis gave breathtaking re-enactments of the raw, naked emotion he felt for her. With only the moral restrictions of a public stage keeping his unruly carnal desires at bay during their live performances - they loved passionately in dance and theirs was truly an unequivocally unique union. Victoria exercised and practised her routines almost daily; a streamlined physique was her passion and her profession – choreography came as natural as breathing – her inspiration – the subliminal depth of her infatuation with Aramis.
Until the summer of 1990, when for the first time since she’d known him, she was unable to draw upon her feelings of deep eroticism for her tireless lover and arrange it into their next performance, which was the coming Friday. Concentration was an increasingly difficult task that morning - Victoria was frustrated; her head was pounding and she was hot and uncomfortable - the temperature was at ninety degrees in the shade, there was no breeze coming in the window and it was noisy outside! Torturously noisy, and the lack of cool air only made her bad mood worse. Then in a fit of frustration, she screamed at her reflection in the mirror for getting the moves all wrong and threw a wild tantrum around her bedroom in which she ripped her leotard and tights off, screwed them up and flung them to one side. Then she yanked the duvet from the bed, threw it into a crumpled heap on the carpet and flung herself down on the bed in tears.
The midday sun was at its peak in the cloudless sky and she could hardly breathe in the stifling heat - the overhead fan made the sultry air in the bedroom oppressive and she couldn’t even close the window to drown out the resonant boom of industry. It was a crude din - thunderous clashes of steel and iron, grinding engines of tug boats and barges chugging along the choppy river - blowing horns, loading and offloading - fused - with a relentless clamour of protest from the breakers yards. A riotous bacchanal - intermingled with the naked cries of seagulls and the deafening roar of ascending aircraft taking off from City Airport – how could anyone think with all that going on, let alone dream up a dance performance that would outshine the one from the month before. It was all a deeply disturbing reverberation; a senseless racket; and the only sounds Victoria missed from the bustling anthem of the River Thames in Greenwich on that sweltering September morning, were the joyous hymns of innocence – the children – but the Thames Barrier playground had been abandoned and the picnic area was deserted too, because the children had returned to school for their autumn term. She was fretful, the blistering heat was cooking her alive - her day couldn’t have been more depressing, and the joyful melody of happiness was all she really wanted to hear to remind her misery, wasn’t the only emotion she should feel - her upset was clearly showing in her reflected performance and was the last thing she wanted to show on stage at Cyn City, her exclusive nightclub.
“Oh for crying out loud” she yelled toward the open window “Someone turn that flipping...”
She was interrupted by what she thought was a thud on the glass front door; she sprung up from the bed and peered out the window and was right, there were two police officers standing on her door step - she couldn’t imagine what they wanted though.
“You don’t have to bang on the glass, we do have a bell” Victoria moaned.
Both officers removed their helmets and looked up at her “Can you come down to the front door please madam?” one officer asked politely
“What do you want?” Victoria asked then she realised how grumpy she sounded when her neighbour, who was sweeping her front path, looked up and frowned at her, so she added “Look I’m sorry, bad start to a bad day. Give me a minute”

She pulled on her dressing gown and nipped down the stairs, she checked the conservatory first and Aramis was still there, still silent, trapped behind the locked window of silence, and for a moment she just stared at him, wishing she could climb in his head and wash away the memories, the hurt. But she could do no more than pity him - she pulled the door closed again and went to open the front door.

“How can I help you?” Victoria asked and did her best to smile at the police officers.
“Good morning Miss - I’m DCI Grayson, this is PC Wogan. We’re speaking to local residents about an incident at the weekend and wonder if you would mind giving us a few minutes of your time?”
“Okay” Victoria said suspiciously.
“Can I ask your name?” PC Wogan said and readied his pen and note pad for her answer.
“Victoria Jacobs. What’s this about?”
“Thank you Miss Jacobs” he said and scrawled her name and door number down “Do you live alone?”
“No I live with my partner”
“And his name” he asked politely.
“Aramis DeVignê. What’s going on, has something happened?”
“DeVignê” DCI Grayson asked and peered over her shoulder.
“Yes, and he’s sleeping”
“You look a bit sore” Grayson said and pointed to Victoria’s right cheek which was still swollen from the day before “What happened there?”
Victoria’s heart leapt and her hand instantly flew up to cover her cheek “Birthday party, fruit fight and water fight” she said all at once “I lost, they were all bigger than me” she added and chuckled – and though it was true, she was the smallest among the group of friends she’d spent her weekend with, she also knew the gash inside her mouth happened the day after the garden party and was nothing to do with drunken behaviour.
“Sounds as though you had a wonderful time” Grayson said, but she wasn’t sure if his tone was meant to be sarcastic or if she’d just heard it that way “The weather was good the weekend, had a few beers myself” he added.
“Actually” Victoria said recalling the garden party and all that transpired afterward “It was exhaustive. Anyway, how can I help you?”
She really didn’t want to get into discussions with the police about how she acquired her injury and tried to dismiss it as minor.
“There was a serious incident in this area at the weekend Miss Jacobs, so we’re speaking to local residents simply to advise you on taking precautions to protect yourself and your home”
Even as PC Wogan spoke, Victoria couldn’t help noticing DCI Grayson was busy flicking through his notepad as though he was looking for something specific; and he kept glancing past her into the house. She turned to see what he was looking at and that was when she saw Aramis behind her.
“Hey baby” she said nervously. She wasn’t sure what frame of mind he was in and hoped it was a good one for everyone’s sake.
“Hello again Mr Aramis DeVignê” Grayson said in that familiar sarcasm “I thought I recognised the name from somewhere. How are you feeling now?”
Victoria was confused and looked questioningly into Aramis’s eyes as he approached her; she could tell he wasn’t fully recovered though, there was no gaiety in his stride - he dragged himself toward her like an old man afflicted with rheumatoid arthritis.
“A lot better than yesterday thank you” Aramis said.
He slipped his arm around Victoria’s waist and gently kissed her forehead “So did you find out what happened?”
“No change since yesterday” Grayson said and shook his head. Victoria wasn’t sure if it was her suspicious mind or if he really did deliberately look down at Aramis’s hand then at her swollen cheek and back to Aramis’s hand again, but she didn’t like it anyway – he was wrong, so wrong. She didn’t like the disgust she saw in his eyes when he looked at Aramis either, and wondered if they knew each other and how? He was much older than Aramis, so it was unlikely they were old acquaintances, yet Grayson’s eyes were familiar to Aramis and it unnerved her to think that what she could see in the detective’s eyes was despise.
“Wow, that’s, that’s really sad” Aramis said “Too close to home”
“Just remember to keep your doors locked at night and dial 999 if you are at all concerned. But you of all people must have a good alarm system Mr DeVignê, surely?” Grayson said and turned his eyes studiously around the door frame.
“We do” Aramis said “Top of the range CCTV and a good security team when we need them, but around here, people leave us alone. They’re all old age pensioners and we keep ourselves to ourselves really”
“And you Victoria” Grayson said “Should you ever find yourself alone in the house at night, please remember to lock all doors and windows”
“I’m very rarely home alone at night” Victoria assured him “We spend most of our time together, but what’s this all about” she said glancing from Aramis to the policemen.
“There was a murder at the weekend baby” Aramis said “A woman was found dead in a flat a few streets away”
“Oh, oh my gosh” Victoria said “Oh”
“We’re asking everyone in the area to be alert and to ensure their own safety” Grayson said “But Mr DeVignê and I discussed security yesterday, so thank you for your time Miss Jacobs, and if you are ever worried or concerned about your safety, please give us a call”
“Thank you” Victoria and Aramis said and closed the front door.
“What happened, why did he ask how you were feeling, do you know him?” Victoria asked Aramis all at once.
Aramis turned away and Victoria followed him into the conservatory; she stood in the doorway and watched him cover whatever he’d been doing on his workbench; he pulled a chair, sat down and looked in her eyes.
“To be honest baby” he began in a shallow voice “I don’t know what happened. I was sitting down by the Thames yesterday after our argument and some jobs worthy CCTV operator phoned the police and said I’d been sitting there for six hours and hadn’t moved. I don’t know what happened, I remember that same policeman talking to me and then we went up to the barrier control room and replayed the recording and there I was, like a statue for hours. It’s quite funny actually because two little boys searched my pockets and stole all my money, that’s why the security guard called the police – little sods. But other than that Torii, I really don’t know what happened – to be honest, I thought I was only there for a few minutes, an hour at the most. I think it was another trance. I was quite disoriented so the police walked me home and when we passed the house that was taped off, they told me what happened. That’s about as much as I know”
“Then maybe Aramis” Victoria said with no airs “You should listen to Dr Stevens”
She didn’t get a response, because as soon as he’d spoken, he slipped into silence again; his glazed eyes staring beyond anywhere she could go and at that moment she was thankful he was already sitting down. She left Aramis there, sitting in the conservatory and ran though the lounge and upstairs. She burst into tears as soon as she closed the bedroom door behind her. Victoria pulled the sheet and a pillow back onto the bed, made herself comfortable, closed her eyes and prayed for sleep to take her – because she really could take no more of it and wished the previous weekend hadn’t happened; in fact, she wished the previous three years of her life hadn’t happened and it made her cry all the more knowing she was blaming Aramis for something that was not his fault.

On reflection, what had begun two days before on one of the hottest Saturdays in September 1990, as an apprehensively awaited birthday celebration, ended as a successful family reunion; and when she put her weary head down on her pillow that night, all she had on her mind was joy and laughter. Because that’s what Aramis’s family brought to the serene milieu of their secluded home near the Thames in Greenwich; the joy and laughter of brothers’ in love, reminiscing, on a man’s essential memories of boyhood. Aramis was celebrating his 40th birthday and they both felt they’d made the right choice when they welcomed his younger brothers into their home, into their lives. He’d been estranged from them for many years and was understandably nervous at first, but by the end of the day, the couple were content and at ease with their decision. Until a line was crossed, a trust was broken, and Victoria was left with a distinct feeling of déjà vu, because Aramis knew what was going to happen. He’d been warned just hours before, and had he understood the mysterious message he’d been given, he’d have brought the universe to a standstill to prevent it. He did mention it briefly to Victoria when he phoned home from work just after midnight that night, but they put his peculiar experience down to too much alcohol and dismissed it. So when a few hours later it actually happened, it took the erotic dancer completely by surprise, terrified her, and Victoria was thankful her best friend Janie Garland was there to support her while she waited nervously for Aramis to come home to the realisation his vision had come true. And even as she mulled over the events of that night, she still couldn’t understand why she hadn’t told Aramis everything!
Moments after he arrived home, her problems went from bad to ludicrous when he blamed her! Then he blamed Janie, then he blamed Victoria again, then he stormed out; disappeared until midday Sunday and they hadn’t spoken much since. When he’d appeared at the front door to speak with the police, she hoped his silence was over and that they’d talk things through, but no sooner the police left, Aramis slipped away again. She wanted to know how he knew, and she wanted to tell him she thought they’d brought it on themselves because of their performance at his birthday party - at least that’s how she felt, but he wouldn’t speak to her. Not even when they were relaxed in the garden the Sunday evening - they were in silence, in his silence - his wretched silence Victoria called it, because it was, wretched! It made her feel miserable, heartbroken and dejected when Aramis was silent, and the blistering heat was draining the last of her energy.

Pitifully wretched was how Victoria was feeling that day as she lay alone in her bedroom fighting with the sun and the sounds of local life. It was the beginning of the week, she should have been at the club choreographing their next performance, stressing over guest lists, booking artists or checking food and beverage orders or something; instead, she now had another reason to worry about her own safety in her own home; there was a killer on the loose in Greenwich - the phone ringing disturbed her thoughts - she rolled over and picked up the receiver.
“Hi Victoria” Benoît said “Is Aramis there?”
“No, he’s still asleep” she said instinctively.
Benoît was Aramis’s youngest brother, she’d been eaves dropping on their conversation earlier that morning and desperately wanted to say something, but she couldn’t, she didn’t know him well enough, and didn’t feel their relationship was strong enough for her to start asking questions about something she really should have known nothing about.
“Okay well don’t disturb him” Benoît said after a moment “I’ll call him later. How are you doing anyway?”
“Trying to get over my wonderful weekend” she said sarcastically and he knew exactly what she meant, though he didn’t know she’d overheard him speaking with Aramis about it.
“It shouldn’t have happened” Benoît said firmly “But listen to me, I’ll deal with Sylvain - you look after Aramis Okay. My other brother is my problem”
“Thanks Benoît”
“Victoria, you and Aramis’s performance on the patio was great, I loved it, but I have my own feelings too”
Victoria already knew what he was going to say, she’d heard his opinion and agreed wholeheartedly. “Go for it” she said and gave a deep sigh.
“Tell me to shut up if you think I’m being rude, but I personally think that dance should have remained private”
“You’re right, but I don’t know how to say that to Aramis when he won’t even speak to me”
“Baby girl, Aramis is a man, before he can deal with how you feel - he’s got to come to terms with how he feels about not being able to protect you. It’s just the twisted way we men think. He loves you Victoria and he knows you’re hurting baby, trust me, he knows”
“I sort of believe that but it’s all a mess” she began, but Victoria was struggling to continue speaking with Benoît knowing all she wanted to do was ask questions “But I’m sure we’ll get over it, like everything else”
“Are you sure you’re okay, you don’t sound right, is there something else going on?” Benoît asked “I noticed your face was a bit puffy this morning, what happened?”
There was something else, but it was something she couldn’t tell him about, simply because it was hers and Aramis’s secret so she palmed him off with “I had a fruit fight with two titans remember”
“Oh” Benoît said and she could hear the disbelief in his tone “Okay so you and Aramis are okay though”
“Your brother can be moody sometimes and today is one of those times. Anyway, I’ve got things to do Benoît, give him a call later”
“Look after you, oh and by the way, dinner was great, you can feed me anytime baby, thank you” Benoît said before he hung up.

Victoria lied, Aramis wasn’t asleep - while she was speaking with Benoît she heard him open and close the conservatory door. Victoria really needed to speak to Aramis, but needed to gather her own thoughts - so that’s exactly what she spent the rest of her Monday morning doing. She opened her bedside cabinet drawer and realised Janie had been in her room and left more magazines; she pulled some out and began idly flicking through the pages looking for something interesting to take her mind away from it all, or at least give her a fresh perspective. It was just after 1pm, the sirens were screaming at the labourers to return to work in the factories, the clash of steel against steel and iron against iron suddenly burst into the air and led the resonant anthem of the Thames through the afternoon; and still Aramis hadn’t broken his wretched silence – not even when she went downstairs to make lunch - she ate alone in the kitchen and was back in the bedroom, in bed, gazing around not knowing what to do and started flicking through another magazine. She was about to sling it to one side when something suddenly dawned on her, so she flicked through the pages again, found the article, and read it properly.
‘Resolve: malevolent groundings originate in the delicate minds of disconsolate children, and are manifest, in the ungovernable behaviour of the tainted adults they become’
It was a featured article in a medical journal, a centre page spread; the account of a debate and it said something to Victoria; drew her away from everything else that was busying her wavering head until her thoughts were only of him; her lover; Aramis DeVignê. The retired cage fighter who’d seduced her into loving him in a moment; the eccentric nightclub owner who’d given her a castle in the sky fairy tale lifestyle; the tireless lover she shared her life with, and whose wretched silences she’d suffered torturously, and had existed outside of for more than three years – but still, Victoria loved Aramis no less. The man who was at that very moment downstairs in the conservatory, imprisoned behind the locked window of his wretched silence, quietly carving angels from wood; from cedar wood - because it reminded him of home in the French West Indies.
She read through the debate and made even more notes. Then she picked up the phone and dialled.
“Janie” she said when her best friend answered.
“Torii, how are you feeling now girl. How’s Aramis?”
“Silent” Victoria said sadly.
“Torii” Janie began in a careful tone. Since lodging at her friend’s home, she’d seen and heard things; strange things that often left her wondering and the events she’d witnessed the previous weekend only aroused her concern for her best friend. “I’m not blind Torii, I’ve been living in your house for over eight months now and after the weekend gone and the way Aramis behaved I have to say something”
Victoria had long suspected Janie was being respectful and had ignored the odd things going on around her not just because they were best friends’ but because Aramis was Janie’s employer as well.
“Go on, I probably need to hear it” Victoria said and for the second time that morning resigned herself to being told.
“Some of the things he does aren’t normal. I know I asked before and you said no, but you’re my best friend so I have to say it. Aramis has some sort of mental health problem Torii and you need to think about how that affects you. And as for that nonsense at the weekend, first of all, he needs to check who he’s bringing in your house, and you need to keep that brother of his at arms’ length”
“I’m not too worried about Sylvain, he’s irrelevant, but the thing with Aramis, it’s like an isolated retreat Janie. He just gets’ drawn into it, as you’ve obviously noticed, at anytime it chooses to take him. I call it his wretched silence”
“Its’ not just that Torii” Janie said “Something happened just after I first moved in, when you went up to Cambridge to visit your parents’ grave, but I really didn’t know what to think. I don’t even know why I didn’t say anything before”
“Something like what?”
“I came out of my room one morning and Aramis was standing at the top of the stairs on one leg, like a stalk. Just standing there, perfectly still”
Victoria knew exactly what Janie was talking about - she’d seen it many times and knew that was the physical aspect of his wretched silence “How long for” she asked
“I don’t know, maybe about two or three minutes while I was there, but I don’t know how long before I found him. It frightened the life out of me, and when he came round, he bolted down the stairs and started clearing out the cupboard by the front door. Victoria, he’s a nice guy and everything but in nine months I’ve seen a lot, including the hospital visit after the funeral”
“You know about that” Victoria exclaimed, suddenly realising she hadn’t been as careful as she thought.
“Yes, I know about that. You should talk to me Torii, we’re friends, don’t try to carry this on your own”
“Janie how can I talk to anyone; I don’t even know what’s going on”
“Look, I put some magazines in your bedside cabinet drawer yesterday that I thought might help”
“That is exactly why I was phoning you” Victoria said “I just read an article and...”
“Torii slow down, they’re not quick fix guides, its’ just up to date facts and professional opinions that might help you understand what you’re dealing with, because to be honest, I don’t think you’re in a safe place right now. Aramis’s behaviour is dangerous, because neither of you have any control over when it happens, why it happens or where it takes him. Is he even aware he’s been slipping in and out of these trances Torii, how long has it been going on?”
“As long as I’ve known him – at first I didn’t know what was happening, but as the years have gone by I’ve just sort of got use to it”
“So that’s why you guys just disappear at short notice every now and then”
“Sometimes yes, he’s going through depression Janie”
“Torii, I really don’t know what advice to give you, but I’ll see you when I get in tomorrow morning – I’m here for the day now, okay love. We’ll talk then and sort this out together, whatever it is”
“Thanks Janie” Victoria said and replaced the receiver.
Whatever it is Janie said. Victoria already knew what it was – a psychiatrist told her his suspicions. But sadly, whenever she’d tried to tell Aramis how important it was to seek treatment, he simply didn’t believe there was anything wrong with him.
She slipped the magazine back in the draw; puffed her pillow, relaxed back and made a deep sigh. Industry was steadily winding down and the first evening gusts gently lifted the nets. Her attention was drawn to the leafy branches of the sycamore tree, the green fauna danced elegantly in the light evening breeze – and the emerging sense of calm she felt made her wonder about nature. About how it worked, why it happened, and about how assured it was. And it was assured - no matter how cold and desolate a winter, the birth of spring was always guaranteed, a sure thing – no ifs, buts or maybe’s. The arrival of the mother of all seasons, like all other seasons, was inevitable - and after some serious deliberation about recent events in her life, and about some of the issues in the magazine article, Victoria wondered if it was inevitable, that Aramis would one day unravel the vagueness of his seminal years? Was it preordained, just like spring? Victoria had eaves dropped on Aramis’s private conversation with Benoît earlier that morning – and to her absolute horror, Aramis disclosed some of the traumas and tragedies of his childhood, completely unaware she was listening. And as evening slipped steadily into night, Victoria questioned if Aramis would ever be able to summon the strength of character to forgive all that she’d over heard that morning – all that had happened to him. Victoria really needed Aramis to find a release from his pain, because without all of his love, the world was a very lonely place for her to live – outside of his wretched silence.
“God” Victoria whispered tearfully “Now that Aramis has remembered his past, please teach him how to forgive – everything”
© Copyright 2013 Torianne Paull (cyndi at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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