Felix

Of course, you guessed correctly. The story continues at Falcon Wharf. Another time, another place. Something to believe in, perhaps.

Falcon Wharf, anyway. An exclusive riverside development of luxury apartments with stunning views across the Thames. Prices start at £800 per week for a 2 bedroom duplex. I start to wonder how Felix can afford it. I mean, he tells me he’s director of an art gallery in Berlin, but this is serious money. And there’s his art collection – it must be worth a lot. Thousands at least.

Naturally, we start talking about art. I tell Felix about Etienne and my life as the artists muse, model and sometime lover. He seems very interested in all this, which I find unusual. We talk about the exhibits at the Tate, and other recent shows like the Van Doesberg and Anish Kapoor.

We’re talking about the film History of Nothing by Paolozzi, and I tell Felix about my friend David, an English artist, who has actually met Paolozzi, amongst others. He’s not familiar with David’s work, but I guess maybe he isn’t into erotica. I also tell him how saddened I feel now that David seems to have less time for our friendship. He seems sympathetic, but maybe he also senses an opportunity?

The apartment is very tastefully furnished, ultra modern, uber chic.
I can tell you’re a man of taste, I tell him.
He smiles.
I just tend to like beautiful things, he says – paintings, sculpture, furniture, and of course women. He looks me straight in the eye.
What about your wife, I ask. Is she beautiful?
He looks away for a moment.
We’re no longer together, I’m afraid. And you, I don’t sink you are married?
Not yet, I say, but I could be. Maybe next year sometime, who knows.
I see. You have a boyfriend at home.
I nod.
A pity, I was razzer hoppink ve could spent time togezzer.
I don’t see why not.
Good, now lets eat.

During the meal Felix starts to tell me about his business, back in Berlin. A small gallery, dedicated to modern artists, he says.
I wonder how he manages to afford the flat. Except I must have said it out loud.
Ziss, he says, spreading his arms wide. He laughs. He taps his nose. Nazi gold, he says.
I nearly choke on my steak. But he’s not laughing now.
No, really, he says. In ze vore, my fazzer’s unit looted many places. After ze vore, much later, zay sold ze pieces slowly, not to arouse suspicion.
I don’t know what to say, so I don't say anything.
You're going to tell me its immoral, or something, aren't you. he looks amused.
Its none of my business, I say. But preferable to murdering Jews, I guess.
That’s true, but you could look more disgusted.
I'm just not very moral either, I guess

Later, after the meal, and two bottles of Chianti, we’re looking at the view from across the Thames at dusk. Felix is sitting in a chair whilst I drag on a cigarette, leaning against the balcony.
I sink it might be time to talk bissness , he suggests.
I finish the fag, toss it into the river over my shoulder.
I guess so, I mean, that’s why im here.
He smiles.
And I sought it voss my jovial company, he laughs.
Well, maybe that also, I concede.
Its nice to mix bissness with a liddle pleasure, don’t you sink?
Why not, I say.
He gets up from the chair, and holds the door open for me. We sit on one of the two large white sofas.
So, vot have you got to offer me sandrine, he says, leaning back on the sofa, his bulky frame almost taking up the whole of the furniture. Apart from ze obvious, he adds, chuckling to himself.
As much as you want, basically, I say. Maybe at first we should start with small amounts – I mean until you can trust me. You see, I'd need payment up front, in cash.
He strokes his stubble thoughtfully. I see, zat vont be a problem. Ant I do truss you. off course.
Do you haff any off ze…..vine….. wizz you?
Of course.
I open my bag and produce a miniature bottle, and hand it to Felix. He carefully unscrews the lid and extracts some with his index finger, and places it on his tongue.
Perhaps we should try some, you ant I? He suggests. Right now.
I don’t normally do that.....but ok.
He takes a note from his wallet and places it on the table in front of us. He takes some of the powder and hands the rest to me. We both inhale at the same time.
I tell him I read somewhere that most of the banknotes in London are contaminated with coke. He laughs. A wicked laugh.
Lets talk money, sandrine. how much are you vonting for ziss vine.
Per case, about a grand.
He nods.its good stuff, I can tell. Vare did you get it?
That would be telling.
Come now, don’t be shy.
I sigh. Mainly from the beurs in Marseille, or Avignon. I happen to have some connections down there.
Incredible, I'd never have believed it. A girl like you. How come you get mixed up in ziss?
I shrug.
It was by accident I guess. But its easy money.
You could end up in jail, if you get caught.
I never carry enough on me for that.
He places a hand on my thigh, strokes my knee gently.
Its time we got to know each other a liddle better, don’t you sink.
I stare at him.
That would be extra, Felix.
He raises an eyebrow.
So you charge for ze pleasure as well as the buissness? I see.How much extra?
I leave that up to you, I say. let's call it a tip.
He laughs loudly.
You really are a wicked woman, Sandrine.
As his left hand moves, slowly, between my legs, pushing my skirt higher, I can feel my temperature rising suddenly. The drugs are beginning to take hold, and I've lost all sense of time and place. Felix pulls me on top of him, and plunges deep inside me.