Page 112 of Sunrise By the Sea

The sun was directly in her eyes as she marched up the hill, which meant at first she couldn’t quite figure out what she was seeing.

The door was open to Alexei’s house, and there was a lot of noise. The next thing that happened was several large objects were hurled out of the house, including a pair of his boots and his treasured bust of Beethoven (Marisa hadn’t known who it was and had once asked ‘who is that angry-looking but quite handsome man?’ and Alexei had gone into rhapsodies), which smashed straight onto the stony ground in a million white pieces.

Marisa stood stock-still, not knowing what was happening. A loud voice, shouting, came from inside the house. It was obviously Russian and Marisa froze in case they weren’t actually shouting, in case this was just what Russian sounded like.

As a teapot hurtled through the door and followed the bust into shattering in pieces, Marisa winced. One, they were definitely angry, and two, that was her teapot that had crossed the balcony one day and somehow never made it home.

The next thing to appear in the doorway was a tiny person.

Marisa blinked in the light, but it was immediately clear who it was. The girl had an incredibly long neck, but the rest of her was absolutely tiny; a small heart-shaped face, little upturned nose, slender but muscular arms and legs, and a compact and incredibly strong-looking torso.

Her blonde hair was pinned ruthlessly tightly on her head, making her neck look even more swan-like than it did already, and her expression was absolutely furious. She didn’t stop yelling, kicking things out of her way, walking backwards – with utterly perfect posture and poise – down the steps, her feet slightly turned out like a duck.

She turned round at the bottom, hurling a few more insults back up the steps, then saw Marisa, who was conscious she was staring, and possibly had her mouth slightly open, so she closed it, instinctively shrinking back a little.

The tiny woman came up to her, frowning. Her lovely face was spoiled by its malicious, twisted expression. She looked Marisa up and down, several times, then in perfect English sniffed loudly and said, ‘Well. Obviously it’s notyou.’

And without another word to explain herself, she flounced off down the hill, no bit of her fury denting the iron-rod straightness of her back.

All thoughts of getting changed forgotten, Marisa found herself running up the steps. What on earth had gone on?

At the entrance door she stopped. The beautiful sitting room was in utter disarray: tablecloths pulled down, books and papers a whirlwind, the piano lid slammed shut with papers trapped in it.

And there, in that same position and same place she had found herself that very first night, curled up, back to the wall, in the furthest corner of the apartment – was Alexei.

‘Alexei?’

He looked up, flinching. When he saw it was her, consternation flashed across his face.

‘Marisa . . . I . . .’

He extended a weak hand as if realising the impossibility of coming up with a reason for why things were how they were.

‘Are you all right? Why were you throwing things?’

He blinked his slow blink.

‘No. Not me throwink thinks.‘

Suddenly, and seemingly to his surprise, a tear rolled down his cheek.

‘Oh! Dearest!’

Marisa pulled a tissue from her bag, and in different circumstances he would have smiled, just a little, to see her as organised as ever (no registrar ever goes anywhere without a tissue).

‘Was that . . . Lara?’

He nodded.

‘What was she doing here?’ Marisa found herself asking, even though her heart was shrivelling, turning to dust inside her. She didn’t need to ask, not really. They’d had a reconciliation, obviously, because he had never been over her, obviously, and now they’d had a fight again, obviously, and now she’d broken his heart all over again, so he was back to square one, which meant that for all her goodwill and willingness to be brave and to live up to her new life – in fact, she couldn’t. She couldn’t have what she so desperately wanted.

She hid her face to hide how disappointed she was. Her friend was desperately sad, and it was her job to cheer him up.

‘She is dancink nearby. I said, come, see, maybe, what new life I haff.’

‘So she could share it?’ Marisa was incredibly impressed by what a good acting performance she was putting on, even as her heart felt like it was breaking. If she had the slightest doubt about the strength of her feelings for him, it was all gone, now, in an instant, now that everything was lost.

‘No. I do not know why. I think I want to say, look, how good I liff without you.’

---