All of us somehow tried to get her to talk. But she skillfully evaded our attempts while not forgetting to show her expensive rings with precious stones and diamond earrings. Little by little, we abandoned our attempts and quietly returned to the conversation inside our circle, allowing the “newcomer” to just sit nearby.
What was surprising was that she took literally all the stories with skepticism. Time and again, she sardonically raised her left eyebrow; and a distrustful smile screwed her lips. We spent four nights with her. Not once during this time did the Golden Woman become warmer, more attentive, or more open. Probably, she would have left so, having arrogantly taken a look at us.
But on the fifth night, a little Charlotte, who knew how to “conjure”, approached her, boldly touched her ringed hand, and asked: “Probably, anyone hurt you much?”
To convey what happened afterward is a really difficult task. It was full of outrage and emotional explosion, wherein the woman yelled at the top of her lungs that she was richer than all of us put together, that her clothes were more expensive than all our luggage, that her gold and jewelry would be enough to buy this “smelly hostel” right now and drive us all out of there.
Well, as always, such an outburst was followed by a logical denouement. Tears gushed from her eyes. I remember that people were offering her handkerchiefs, and she was quietly complaining about her waterproof mascara, which was not sufficiently resistant to her tears. As soon as Charlotte has blown up this emotional dam; as soon as the lady, having cried and calmed down, took in her hands a cup of strong coffee; as soon as her haughty and arrogant expression faded from her eyes, she was ready to talk to us.
She told thousands of stories from her life, little novels – maybe someday, I will publish her memoirs with her permission. However, what really mattered weren’t those stories, but the thought that ran throughout all the narratives as a common thread. Neither wealth nor expensive clothes or jewelry gave her happiness. She was completely alone. She did not trust people; she did not trust in relatives; and, I think, she did not trust even herself to the full.
You know, maybe this story could have had a wonderful ending… But I would come up with that. Maybe later, when I’m back in Paris, I will be able to find out something about what happened to the Golden Woman. But right now, all I can say is that she left early in the morning, having left a very generous tip, a gold ring with a huge ruby as a gift for Charlotte, and just two words on the card: “Thank you!”
For the most part, I’m a night owl. No, of course, I am able to be a weird hybrid of a night owl and an early bird, waking up at the crack of dawn and falling asleep long after midnight. But in most cases, I prefer to enjoy a normal sleep when there is such an opportunity. Therefore, waking up around ten in the morning, I realized that for me, today is a “lazy day”.
This is a day when everything your heart desires shall be within arm’s reach: a TV remote, a tablet, a phone, a good book, and perhaps a glass of excellent wine and a fragrant cigarette. However, in the morning, a glass of wine can be replaced by a cup of freshly brewed coffee, which is pretty good in a coffee house at the corner near the hostel.
