Maura worked, night shifts, as a waitress at the upper class RockCafe in Kings Road, London.

This was rather a grand meeting place for the famous and the rich.

The celebrities would come here after they did their gigs in different places of London, to share their experiences over a beer and a hamburger, or hot coffee and tea.

There were too other people, the jobless and the gypsies: artists looking for an opening. They would spend their last ten sterling pounds note over a coffee, while they had not had a decent meal in weeks, in a desperate bid, and try to get close to the glitter of the RockCafe's crowd. But it did never happen, stars were selfish by-products of a consumerist society. They held on their turf all too jealously to the despair of the raw and unrecognized talent.

Maura felt kinder to the loners. She understood them well, she was herself a failed actress cum singer. She had given up on the elusive stardom; she had been deceived and rejected all too often.

She was a short and plump girl of a woman, with dark circles around the eyes, but otherwise pretty to look at and very sedate.

Nobody cared to talk to her really; none of the people who frequented the place had even smelled her out as an artist, a professional. She had been hurt at first by their apathy towards her, now it was all right. She had accepted it.

She would get more smiles from the occasional foreigners that used to drop in to feel the swing atmosphere of London.

She had resigned herself to the fact that she had come to a dead end, and that job was all she had. At least, she was getting good tips, and she was efficient and hard working in her job. Whenever customers tipped her, she felt that they were somehow paying for the fact that they felt guilty for not acknowledging her. An absurd feeling of course, still she felt their pity acutely.

It was June, the RockCafe was overbooked, overcrowded, Maura had plenty to do, the money was good, she had almost forgotten about her broken dream of becoming someday a star.

That very evening, a brand new silver jaguar parked close to the RockCafe, and she saw a chauffeur and his companion opening the back door. A short man, blackish, emerged from the car, unsteady on his feet.

The group entered the coffee shop and the two escorts pulled a chair for the smaller man as she heard them telling him:
"Please sit down your Highness. What would you like us to order?"

The small man had huge brown eyes, like those of a deer; he looked around, dwelled on the women and said:

"Whatever, Dom Perignon and Regal Chivas will do fine"

The body guard went up to Maura and said:
"Miss, quickly here. Here is twenty pounds as your first tip. Treat this table as a special table, we shall make it worth your time and energy."

Maura replied:
"Of course, I understand"

The bodyguard ordered:
"Two bottles of Dom Perignon and one bottle of Chivas for the Prince, and for us bring two coca and two hamburgers. Quickly please"

Again the same bodyguard pushed another twenty pounds note in the hand of Maura. Maura was puzzled, she looked at the small man they called a Prince. He was stoned, very stoned she could tell.

But somehow when he noticed her looking at him, he opened his eyes wide , and at that very moment something unusual happened. It was as if an electric current had gone from his eyes into the eyes of Maura. She felt the three eyes in her heart open after a long sleep. It was love at first sight.

The prince whispered a few inaudible words in the ear of his body guard, while watching every movement of Maura very intently, as if she had become a prey he did not want to let go.

When she returned to the table with the Champagne the Whisky, the Coca-Cola and the burgers, the bodyguard asked Maura:
"May I have a private word with you Miss?"

Maura did not act surprised. She was under the spell of the small Prince. She said:
" Well, I am on duty, I am not allowed to have private conversations with customers".

The prince for the first time spoke. His voice had a gentle Arabian sound:
"Woman, how much do you make a month here? Two thousand dollars? Here I shall give twenty thousand dollars cash right now."

The bodyguard opened a suitcase and took only a bunch among bunches of bank notes and pushed it in her hand under the tablecloth.

Maura understood. She untied her apron, dropped it on the floor, did not care to take her coat, and went out to ride in the silver jaguar.

She did not know where she was going, or what was asked of her, but she has had enough of the routine. There was her escape route at last.

After a while, they stopped by a luxury villa in Knightsbridge and the porter came to greet the group, with a knowing and cunning look in his eyes that did not escape Maura, but she did not care anymore. The Prince's eyes were on her; it felt so warm around him. Maura felt well in the presence of the small Prince, nothing else mattered for her.

The villa was of great beauty, Egyptian male staff was around to clean, cook, attend each and every whim of his Highness.

The body guard approached Maura and told her:
"His highness is very taken by you, he wishes to marry you as per his traditions.

Maura gapped but she heard herself say:
"Yes."

A man entered briefly the living room where Maura and the Prince were seated in different sofas, the guards were standing, and food was being served as well as French Champagne. Maura smiled within herself, it felt almost funny if not bizarre: the waitress was being waited upon.

The man with the beard recited a few words. And left.

The bodyguard addressed Maura with extreme courtesy:
"Amira (princess), we shall retire now. We wish you happiness.

Maura had become an "Amira", a spouse of an Arabian Prince.

The following days were blissful, the Prince was very generous to his Amira in all respects, he loved her genuinely. Maura had never felt so much in love in her heart before for any lover. She simply adored him. It was a strange and beautiful thing indeed.

He showered her with luxuries: diamonds furs, dresses, and French perfumes. He would take her out to the best clubs, restaurants, and shops. Nothing lacked in Maura's life. She truly felt like a princess.

She came to respect and cherish the company of that unusual husband of hers.

Weeks passed. Then things changed, she could feel the arc in their relationship, she did not want it to change, she was so very happy. She wanted to have the constancy of it.

But soon, things did change. The prince would take his wife to a new club every night; the bodyguards would still escort them. Then with a sign of his head, the Prince would show a blonde girl and the body guards would go over and make the indecent proposal to the new whim of the night.

The blonde girl would ride back home in the silver jaguar sited near the driver, as Maura and the Prince sat silently behind. Maura was shocked. She did not know what was happening. It felt so cruel, so very brutal.

They would go home and the porter would give an ironic smile to Maura and the same knowing smile to the blonde girl.

The prince would not enter their marital bed for the night, he would take that stranger in the playroom as he called it, leaving Maura alone and crying from anguish and pain.

The next day, the blonde girl would be gone; the Prince would go to his wife for breakfast and would offer her a river of diamonds.

He would say to Maura:
"I am sorry for having been a bad husband"

Maura invariably replied in tears:
"But why Saul, I love you, this behavior of yours hurts me deeply"

The prince would bow his head and admit:
"Maura, darling, I could not help it. She had such beautiful golden hair; it is so rare for me, so exotic, so appealing. Please forgive me, please?"

Maura smiled through her tears and whispered:
"Yes, of course, I do forgive you. Men act this way sometimes. Nothing new"

The prince would take her hand and say:
"I truly wished that it was you last night who had the blond hair"

The prince returned to sleep. On that first morning, Maura asked the Prince' s driver to drop her by Harrods. That was not unusual as Maura shopped almost daily for new trinkets, clothes, and bubbles to amuse her. But this time, she went with an assured step straight to Harrods' Beauty Saloon.

The hairdresser came running to help Maura remove her mink coat. The hairdresser asked:
"How may I help you Madame"

"Oh "Maura replied, looking at the Elegant British woman,
It is quite simple, just tint me as blonde as can be. A grand hair job, I want. I am ready to pay for all your troubles and more."

Two hours later, Maura came out of Harrods and returned home, wearing a scarf on her head. She went to the Prince's bedroom and knocked at the door. The Prince told her to come in.

As she stood in front of him, she could feel that he was already bored, that he expected her to relate her shopping at some new boutique. But then, Maura untied her scarf and let the long blonde locks of her hair fall on her shoulders. A mad flame of passion came into the big brown eyes of the Prince; he had fallen in love again with Maura.

Life was again so beautiful. Maura loved her foreign husband more than she could even describe it to herself.

But things kept changing. He would take her to newer clubs, bring home other women. She felt the stabs of jealousy, she confronted him.

He would invariably reply:
"Her bust was irresistible"

Maura started to consult cosmetic surgeons, one after the other at random. She would then fly to Switzerland to have a bust lift. It was so very painful, but she knew she was doing so for the love of him

The trips continued, she went for further surgeries, she bore the pain of the scalpel, the loneliness, and the triumphant returns in her husband's bed. But he would still find that elusive new girl that had something she did not have. She even took over voice lessons and learned how to whisper seductively, she took belly dancing, music lessons.

Tonight her husband had brought two twin girls with him; none really cared any more for Maura. She was given money, and was let free to entertain herself any way she liked. But she was truly in love with her husband. He had opened the three eyes in the sky of her heart, how could she forget it.

The emotional pain was unbearable. She went to consult psychiatrists, underwent psychotherapy to no avail. The pain within did not abate the least.

She flew again to Switzerland; nobody seemed to mind her absence. The prince would always find himself new girls, she knew that. He loved her still in his own way.

But she wanted more, and he could not give her that full attention any longer.

In Switzerland, from the Airport, she boarded a taxi and asked the driver to rush. She could not bear the pain of her heart, the torment that loving her husband has caused her.

It was a clinic she had never been before, highly sophisticated.

The head surgeon, an Indian doctor of high reputation, came in and said:
"Are you sure you want to go through with this, Madam?"

Maura replied:
"Yes. My lawyer has given you all the necessary documents"

The doctor said to the nurse:
"Prepare the patient and send her in immediately in the surgery room"

Maura had been sedated, but she felt the scalpel rip her chest open. It was a strange thing, she felt herself floating over the bed and watch as the surgeon and his assistants worked on her mortal body.

The surgeon said to his assistants:
"We are going to perform a unique surgery. Something that had not been done here in this clinic. We are going to switch a healthy living human heart and replace it with a mechanical heart"

Maura came out of that clinic three months later. Flowers were sent regularly with the card of her prince husband, but he did never care to call her. Just gifts, he would only send her gifts.

Maura had been doing well and the surgeon indicated that she could return home

Maura was elated. She had a mechanical heart; she would never again feel the aches and agonies of love. She was safe. No matter how cruel he would be by parading new girls in front of her in her own house. She would feel nothing now. That is all she wanted.

She returned home.

At the entrance, the porter looked at her and laughed loudly. Maura did not care; she did not feel the insult.

She went home, the bodyguard had a hard look. He said:
"Madam, you stayed away too long, as per our traditions, there is a new Amira, you have gone down in rank"

Maura felt nothing she replied:
"Fine"

She said:
"Please inform my husband that I am home"

The body guard saluted her and said:
"Of course Madam"

There was no more my Highness she had become now simply Madam; Maura did not feel the pain of the loss of her title either. She had been devalued, it did not matter.

The body guard came and said:
"You may go to see the Prince in his room"

Maura entered the nuptial room the Prince and her shared once.

He was in bed with an African woman of great beauty.
She felt nothing, but thought that she had done well, she could never have gone through surgeries to have black skin grafts. The physical pain would have been enormous.

The prince came out of the bed and told the black girl to get out right away. Maura saw her running naked in front of the bodyguard seeking shelter in the living room. The Prince had become a very cruel man. She saw him with new eyes; still she felt a slight flicker of love for him, for a split of a second.

The prince said:
"Maura, you look good. What have you done to yourself to please me this time? You look enchanting. Let us celebrate your return. Let us drink some champagne. "

He took the bottle from the ice bucket that was always kept by his bed. And poured two glasses.

The Prince looked at her with new eyes and continued:
"Whatever you have done to yourself was very successful, because my heart is full of you my darling. I shall never touch another girl, I promise. You are my precious one.

As Maura drank the words, she felt her metallic heart rust within herself, at an amazing rate, the champagne did not suit her metallic heart.

She collapsed immediately; she did not feel the pain of the separation from the love of her life. Her Impossible love had opened the three eyes in the night of her sky a few years ago "love at first sight", and now he had sent a bucket of rust over their unique love, "death at first sight". As she died, she saw how logical that love had been to her, how nourishing. She wished him well in her rusted heart.

An Amira's love.
-The end-

 

 

Written and copy righted to rahman,brigitte arlette-2001

Anataalie's Psychic Duels - A myriad of mystical short stories

Anataalie 's Dream Plantations- Dazzling trails of poetry

The Last Living Room of the Lebensraun

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The Memories of my four futures

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Obscure

 

 

RAHMAN,BRIGITTE ARLETTE

The writer recently spent many hours reading through the works of Brigitte, no an occurence I oft allow myself the luxury to accomplish, however the quality of the content of the short stories and poetry displayed held this individual captive. I can thoroughly recommend the works displayed, the style of writing is refreshing and interesting at the same time. The excellent use of grammar was refreshing in these days of WYSIWYG. No short cuts here, no slang, just good intelligent writing and prose aimed at a very wide audience. Well done Brigitte, I enjoyed my visit, I have bookmarked your site and I shall return again and again.

Brian Garnett B.A (Sociology) VUT C.E.O APEX Member UAG, AECG, CEM/CEMA, GTA, WebsAwards, AG, IWA, HTML Writers Guild and accredited site evaluator for numerous prestigious website awards programs.

**you will find Brian at Graham Nash authorized site**