Okay.
I can’t stay, he said retreating, I promised my father I’d meet him at the bakery in five minutes. See you tonight.
We watched him disappear into the crowd, paid for our coffees and then strolled leisurely through the narrow side-streets back to the hotel.
When we arrived I went up to our room. Elena was lying on her bed pretending to read.
Want to go to the movies tonight? I said.
Not particularly.
What a pity. Alexis will be so disappointed.
What do you mean?
Well, as it happens, I ran into Alexis in town and he’s invited us to go to the movies. But if you’re not interested I’ll just have to go down right now and phone him to say you won’t be coming.
I went towards the door.
You’re a jerk [Du bist ein Arschloch], you know that, Wolfi.
She jumped up off the bed and threw her book at me but I was through the door before she knew it. I heard it thud to the floor behind me. Instantly I turned. The door flew open and Elena hurtled out. She managed to stop just millimetres from my face.
Changed your mind, eh?
She ran her hand up through the back of my hair and looked at me sideways with her dark eyes.
Well, it’s just that I don’t think one should ever rush into things, that’s all. After all, it’s not every day a girl gets the opportunity to go to the movies with a good-looking boy like you, is it?
Oh, I see. One moment I’m a jerk and the next you’re behaving as though I were Prince Charming.
Well, I wouldn’t go that far.
So I take it you’re coming?
Uh huh.
That night, having said goodbye to our parents, we left the hotel to make our way into town. Out on the street I was reminded again of the strange meditative twilight of the region. It is quite unlike anything you could ever expect to experience back home. The buildings seem to glow with the heat stored from the day’s sun. Overhead the sky seems to fill with a deep and luminous blue punctured by hundreds of stars of astonishing brightness. In the still evening air, as you pass, catches of conversation can be heard escaping from half-glimpsed interiors which, from a distance, look like delicate murals painted into the pink stone of the walls. Or the sound of a baby crying might drift down to you from one of the many side-streets above.
That night was no exception. Already there were quite a few people about. Men in singlets sat talking or smoking quietly on their doorsteps, groups of laughing people were assembling at the tables of the small, open-air family restaurants which during the day were the homes of the ordinary townspeople, and couples were strolling about enjoying the mild evening air. Occasionally someone nodded hello.
By the time we reached the square, the sky had become almost completely dark and a cool breeze had sprung up. As we approached the brightly lit area of the Plaza Hotel opposite we could see that most of the tables outside were already occupied. The flickering lights from the candles on the tables reflected eerily against the canopies of the umbrellas above them.
White-shirted waiters hurried back and forth with plates of food balanced along outstretched arms, while others wove their way expertly through the diners with trays of drinks held high above their heads. The sound of violin music filtered down to us from somewhere inside the hotel.
The entire area around the Plaza was lit by floodlamps mounted high on the building’s facade and as we stepped into this arena of laughter and light Elena’s simple white dress was transformed into a thing of dazzling radiance. It appeared to accentuate the slimness of her waist, while the unconcealable vitality of her tanned body beneath seemed, in turn, to amplify the radiance of her dress. The whites of her eyes sparkled in the shadows of her face.
A number of heads turned to follow us as we made our way through the tables towards the steps. Alexis emerged from the arched entrance to the hotel foyer and came down to greet us. He was wearing a loose white shirt and light cotton trousers and something about his easy confidence made him suddenly appear older. It was as though in the two weeks we had been here, the youth we had first seen on the beach had been fully transformed into a self-confident young man. He kissed us both on the cheeks and ushered us in through the hotel doors.
It might be better if we got our tickets now, he said, before it gets too crowded.
We made our way down the corridor to a makeshift ticket office and, after a short wait, bought our tickets. Then Alexis led us to a door at the far end of the hall through which we emerged into a large open-air courtyard. It was already quite full and people were laughing and talking loudly. On the wall of the building opposite hung what looked like a large rectangular piece of white sailcloth.
Is this it? I asked.
This is it. Movies Yugoslav style.
He laughed as I looked dubiously around. However, the more I looked the more it seemed to me to be the perfect space for an open-air theatre. The building was a large, three-storeyed, U-shaped structure which occupied the entire end of the block of buildings overlooking the middle of the square. The base of the U was given over to the hotel’s restaurant which spilled out onto the square itself. During the week the large inner courtyard served as a delivery area for the shops which faced the street. Broad, red-tiled eaves skirted the entire inner perimeter. Access to the courtyard was restricted to relatively small trucks because of the narrowness of the laneways between it and the wall of the building opposite. On film nights, these were partially barricaded off and a sentinel was posted at each end to prevent anyone without tickets from entering.
In the centre, rows of canvas deck chairs had been set up and already many of these were occupied. Not only were there holiday-makers here, many of the audience were locals. Large slack-faced women sat knitting, while groups of older men in ancient suits and gaudy ties stood sipping small glasses of apricot brandy under the eaves. A table with a projector on it had been set up in front of one of the second-floor windows, while at the back of the theatre a number of other windows gave directly onto the restaurant’s kitchen. From here you could buy a range of hot food or coffee as you watched the film or during one of the many intervals.
Have you eaten? Alexis asked.
We nodded.
Then let’s find ourselves some seats. There’s going to be a mad rush for them any minute.
After we had sat down Elena, who had barely uttered a word, turned to Alexis.
What have you been up to? she said. We haven’t seen you since…Well, what I mean is, for days.
I went to Titograd with my father. God, what a depressing place. Have you been there?
No, she said. My father went there years ago, but we’ve never been there.
Alexis went to say something else but was cut off by three short blasts from what sounded like a car horn and people began noisily scrambling for their seats.
I’ll tell you later, he yelled.
The crowd was incredibly rowdy, their laughter and shouting resounding across the inner space. Everyone was in a festive mood and the place was packed. There were still people standing under the eaves as the lights dimmed. The stars brightened in the dark square of sky above us.
The projector flickered into life. It took a few moments to stabilize before a fuzzy image appeared on the screen. As the focus was adjusted the close-up of a label advertising the locally produced apricot brandy came into view. But something was drastically wrong. The sophisticated young Yugoslav couple featured in the advertisement appeared to be spewing the nation’s favorite drink back into their glasses as though it were vile-tasting poison. The locals, who knew the advertisement well, erupted into waves of laughter as some clichéd endearment was transformed into what sounded like someone being violently ill and the high pitched cackle of an old woman in front of us kept setting them off again. The culmination, however, was reached when the handsome, tanned, sophisticated seducer of a thousand women, having emptied his glass gravity-defyingly back into the bottle, turned to the audience and, with his face in close focus, smiled, then belched obscenely out at us. This had the locals rolling around in their chairs as though they had drunk gallons of the stuff themselves [als ob sie selbst total besoffen waren].
There was a short pause as the laughter died down and then the main feature started. From what I could make out it was a melodrama, the plot of which was too convoluted for me to follow. Even the locals didn’t appear terribly interested in it. They were more excited by a couple of young daredevils who ran the gauntlet of the barricades on their noisy motor scooters with their girlfriends riding pillion on the back. A collective cheer would erupt as the wall in front of us lit up and one, or sometimes two, of them sped noisily through, while the guards posted at either end looked on helplessly. Each time the crowd would settle back down for a few minutes until the next young blood came racing through, and each time a cloud of smoke and petrol fumes would drift slowly up through the flickering light of the projector.
Between reels there was an interval to allow people to get something to eat or drink. We waited in the queue for a few minutes and came away with hot fresh rolls stuffed with spiced chicken meat and mustard and cups of steaming black coffee. Alexis was in high spirits. Apart from Elena’s slip, the incident on the beach was not mentioned. It was strange how different Alexis now appeared from the youth who had so awkwardly turned away from us that day to walk back to town. When he fell silent I watched him out of the corner of my eye looking at Elena intently. She had completely cheered up and was clearly enjoying the noise, the food, the people and, most of all, Alexis’ attention.
The film had barely recommenced when I felt the first large drop of rain splatter against my face. I looked up to see that the stars were now largely obscured by masses of fast-moving cloud. Fat globes of water were beginning to plummet through the projected light and land smackingly around us. At first they came sporadically, but within minutes they turned into a downpour which sent us running for shelter under the eaves. Here we huddled while the rain streamed down in front of the screen. The gutters filled quickly and soon began to overflow. The lights came up and through the thin curtain of water that cascaded down in front of me and the thick veil of the downpour in the centre, I could see an irregular row of half-lit faces under the eaves opposite. Occasionally someone looked skywards, catching the light more fully. Others, the men, were half obscured under the brims of their hats. Their cigarette ends glowed intermittently, followed by thin ghostly masses of white smoke which slid fleetingly up and over the roof into the night. No one made any attempt to leave, enjoying the sense of intimate solitude. As I looked along the line of faces opposite, I suddenly saw Elena and Alexis huddled between two old women with scarves drawn tightly over their heads. I had thought that we were together but clearly I had been mistaken. As I watched I could see Alexis saying something to Elena, his hand slightly raised in emphasis. Elena nodded her head. I turned to try to make my way through the crush of people but had gone no more than a couple of metres when, as suddenly as it had started, the rain stopped. Now I understood why no one had left. These summer evening downpours obviously only lasted a matter of minutes and most of the audience, who I now saw had taken their collapsable chairs with them, began to resume their places. Because the stone courtyard retained its heat the area would soon be dry and here and there little plumes of steam began to rise from the isolated air vents in the pavement.
When I reached the spot where Alexis and Elena had been standing they were gone. I looked back to where we had been sitting, stupidly thinking for a moment that perhaps they had gone back to our wet seats. But the few chairs that had been left out in the downpour had been collected and stacked against the walls to dry. I looked through the crowd and still could not see them. Cursing, I decided to see if they were out at one of the tables in the square. A number of the crowd, having been entertained enough for one evening, were leaving and I joined those who chose to go through one of the laneways at the end of the building rather than through the congested corridor of the hotel.
Out in the dimly lit street I turned towards the bright lights of the plaza and followed the dispersed silhouettes of the people in front of me. The external pillars of the building cut deep shadows into its facade and the pavement ahead of me glistened in the reflected light. As I approached the corner a breeze caught the hem of a white dress and sent it billowing diaphanously out for a moment from a doorway a little ahead of me before being smothered by a slim, brown, outstretched arm. I was sure it was Elena. As I drew near I heard Alexis’ voice earnestly saying something to her. I slowed down and moved closer to the wall. Alexis broke off as the small group of people in front of me walked past. Then I heard him say: But why not?
I can’t Alexis. Not tonight. I’ve already told you, Wolfi will be looking for us already and I can’t just disappear. What do I tell my parents when I get back. That I got lost or something.
Tomorrow morning then? After breakfast.
How?
Just say you’re going for a walk.
What about Wolfi?
He doesn’t go everywhere with you, does he? If he says anything, just say you want to go for a walk on your own.
I don’t know, Alexis. It sounds risky.
Come on, Elena. Tomorrow’s our last chance.
Okay, okay. But where will I meet you?
By the three olives.
But if I’m out walking, Wolfi might decide to go there himself.
Not without you he won’t.
Okay, tomorrow morning then.
There were a few moments silence and then I heard Elena’s voice again.
We should go and find Wolfi before he starts getting suspicious. He’ll be furious as it is.
I heard their footsteps hurrying away and as I detached myself from the wall I saw them disappear around the corner into the arena of the restaurant’s lights. I hurried across the street and made a quick detour around the perimeter beyond the tables and then cut back in so that I approached the building almost directly from the front. The waiters were still replacing seats around the tables and some of the diners had already resumed their places. Alexis and Elena were just about to go up the stairs into the building when I called out to them. For a moment they were unable to make me out as I walked through the tables. I waved and they came down the steps.