Sinful Pleasure. A Henry Cavill Story

1 Tell Me The Truth

"Tell me the truth," I said triumphantly at my mother who stared at me pleadingly with those gentle eyes of hers. I would have given up had I not held the piece of evidence in my hand. It was not much but I knew, I knew it would be enough to make her talk. We have decided to visit my grand parent's dacha (a Russian term for cottage) for the weekend, but I had only one mission in mind apart from helping my mom dig up the potatoes that were sure to have grown this season. My mission was to sneak off and finally get my hands on a ladder to see what the attic was hiding, ever since childhood I wondered that and ever since then my mom did everything to ensure me there was nothing there. But call me crazy, I just had to see for myself, like intuition was telling me there was something there for me to discover. I was right. Here I was, holding the photograph in my hand, a photo I have never seen before and the only person I knew from it was none other than my mother. 

"What would you like to hear Masha, it is just someone I once knew," she said to me.

"Mama, the picture is dated 1995, not to mention you two are embracing in a way I have not seen you embrace anyone in your old pictures, tell me... tell me, is this who I think it is, is this my father?" I watched her carefully after picking my words, I had to know. My mother took a sigh, straightened up and gulped as if getting ready for something terrible.

"Yes, it is," she quietly whispered and I noticed a tear form at the corner of her eye. 

"Oh, but why have you not told me about him? Did not you think I had the right to know?" 

"Of course, but, I wish you could understand, I knew he would never come back, he left me, what is the point in giving you false pretense when the truth is you never had a father," her words were coarse.

"Perhaps you should have let me decide for myself. I am 24, it is about time I learned who conceived me," I raised my tone unwittingly. 

"Alright, I admit it was not the best idea keeping that photograph from you, keeping the truth but I was right, he never came back."

"Who is he?" I asked, not really caring about the fact she did not tell me earlier, I had to know now.

"We met when I was studying in Moscow, lets just say he was a friend of a friend, a mutual acquaintance simply. His name was John Black, he was visiting from London," my mother answered, "I admit it was rather interesting you wanting to study English even though I never told you about him," she chuckled lightly.

"I want to find him," I blurted.

"No, why?" she looked terrified.

"Because I have to ask him why leave, did he even know about me?" I asked.

"Yes, Masha, he knew," mother looked defeated.

"All the more reason to ask him!" I say.

"You want to go to England? I don't even have an address to give you, all I know is he was a lawyer, or at least that is what he claimed. Besides, you don't have the money to fly to England."

"I have enough, and knowing he's a lawyer is enough, I will find him. Mom, I need this," I say pleading my case. After a long silence my mother does not say anything but just nods as if to say 'do what you want, I cannot stop you'.

---

I found myself at the Sheremetyevo airport embarking on my flight, needless to say my mother did not support this. She did not come to the airport to say goodbye and simply bid me farewell from our tiny two bedroom apartment, more like one bedroom as the other served not just as my bedroom but also as the living and dining room as well. I have been slaving away doing small translation works to help out students and working as a seamstress, it has been tough trying to find work as a translator because well the only work was in Moscow and we lived close to two hours outside, sometimes I wondered what the point of me learning English even was, why did I bother? Simply to end up in a sweat shop not far from our apartment. I have been saving for the past three years and I was about to spend my hard earned savings on a gamble that may just hurt me more in the end but at least I would know the truth.

I boarded the flight, this will be the first time I fly. I found my seat luckily it was a window one, I've always wondered what the view would be like. Beside me sat a very large man who smelled of the familiar to me scent of vodka, cliche but in this case true. On the seat on the other side of him was a blonde lady a few years older than me, I took note of her style, she did not appear to me as someone from around here but then I remembered this is the Moscow airport, perhaps she was just here for a layover and not Russian in the least. 

Ding, the seatbelt light came on and I tightened mine, nerves kicking in. I finally realized I have no plan whatsoever of finding my father and having one old photograph and the fact that he was a lawyer who came here in Autumn of 1995 was truth be told not much to go by but at least I had his name which hopefully would be enough to start. I knew my mother was holding back facts, like who was this mysterious mutual friend and what this English lawyer was doing in Moscow to begin with, I knew she had more facts to share but never would, too afraid to hurt me or perhaps too afraid to hurt herself. I respected her wishes, it was not easy for her bringing me up, especially since her father wanted nothing to do with her after she got pregnant, it was not until my grandfather lay dying that he apologized for how he treated her. He passed away but at least the bad blood between him and my mother was over with and they forgave each other. 

"Kukulka davai poigraim," husky in the most unpleasant way, voice woke me from my thoughts, I turned to find the fat ass beside me trying to grope the girl on the other side of him.

"Excuse me do not touch me, I will scream and call the flight attendant," she spoke in English. I elbowed the guy super hard in his gut causing him to whip his face towards me and away from the girl, as soon as I faced him I smelled the bottle or two he must have consumed before boarding.

"What the fuck," he growled in my mother tongue and I smiled at him.

"Oh you want to play too," he winked. 

"Listen you old disgusting fat ass, you touch her or me and I will cut your balls off, call the captain and they will be happy to escort you, or more like what is left of you off this flight," I winked back at him. He turned redder than before and was about to grab hold of my shirt when I stood and pressed the button for the flight attendant. Before the fat guy could register what happened a flight attendant appeared.

"What seems to be the issue?" she asked.

"This man has attempted to assault us," the blonde spoke quickly.

"He's bugging us, not to mention he must have consumed an insane amount of alcohol before boarding," I said to her in Russian.

"What is this nonsense, how can you believe these lies," the fatty murmured trying to sober up.

"It is the truth," I say.

Next thing I know our flight is delayed and the fat ass is being escorted off the plane for being difficult. It took the copilot and multiple flight attendants to kick him out. I take a sigh as we finally take off, great start to the adventure I think to myself.

"Thank you," the blonde says and switches her seat to sit in the middle as soon as the belt sign turned off.

"Oh it was nothing, you're welcome. When you grow up where I have stuff like this becomes mundane," I say in English and smile at her. 

"Wow, your English is wonderful," she exclaims, "also, I am sorry this is mundane for you as you say, you don't deserve to deal with such things."

"Oh it's ok, everyone has their problems. But I am sorry you had to be part of that, now you will tell everyone that the stereotypes about Russia are true," I giggle a bit at the realization.

"Oh I could not profile like that, you for one is not a typical Russian! I am Michelle by the way," she says with a smile and for once I feel at ease, forgetting my issues and just feeling like I might have made a friend.

"Maria, but you can call me Masha for short, that's the Russian way," I say.

"Nice to meet you, thank you again!" We continue our talk as our plane nears the unfamiliar to me land of England. As much as I want to ignore the thoughts at the back of my mind, my nerves still kick in the pit of my stomach and I wonder about what lays ahead.

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If you are curious about what this story was like from Henry's perspective then here you are; 

His Sinful Pleasure:

https://www.wattpad.com/story/258924241-his-sinful-pleasure-a-henry-cavill-story