The Reliable Narrator [For The Love Of Chéri Epilogue]

Part 10 : Lennon 2.0 Vs Lennon

I went through customs and I was waiting for my luggage in the arrivals lounge.

I was clutching Marcel's grey wallet which currently held my own cards, ID and American money. I imagined myself free from Suzanne and enjoying a new life in France, and this was the first step. I again felt strange feelings brewing within me - my growing itch for liberation, especially regarding my new life and its possibilities. This was an itch that was becoming stronger and I wanted to explore confronting and relieving it at some point. I was often flooded by impulses I didn't fully understand or except for several reasons, and often I felt that I was a stranger to my own feelings and needs. I guessed that this was the byproduct of my nurturing and religious upbringing, and possibly the reason I was drawn to the work in the Bordello in the first place when the position was offered to me. Even though for me it was just a job, I was captivated by people exploring their impulses and living their truths. I also loved the idea of keeping the girls safe. These girls were the last conduits to the world for people who were no longer grounded in reality due to living out whatever dream the girls were making real, even if just for increments of fifteen minutes. Even though I knew that all those girls were the bait on the end of Marcel's carefully constructed fishing line into the waters of pleasure for money, the system benefited everyone all the way up to Madam Dolores at the top.

My phone beeped a few times and I pulled it out of my back pocket. It was Mercy asking if I had arrived safely. I replied swiftly.

Javier : I'll return as a free man! Can't wait to return to Castle Marcel as soon as this is done.

Mercy : Castle Marcel?! ...Ur such a twat Hav. X

Javier : I'm about to text Monique. Wish me luck! Twat, out! X

I loved the weird texts I shared with Mercy with its weird English, random but loving Brit insults and the way she would place any number of X's after a message, which was a very British trait that I adopted. Mercy went on to say that she was not feeling too well but she was under the care of the boss and she had Dario waiting on her.

Dario, a fellow Spaniard. I hate that guy.

He's in my place, trying to win the trust and admiration that it had taken me years to earn from Mercy and especially Marcel. I decided that upon my return to France, I was going to mark my territory viciously and exert my authority over him. I never wanted a promotion as much as I did now. I wanted to be the head of security and have Dario demoted and there was a good chance of this due to my exceptionally close relationship with Mercy. Surely she would rather I ran the security team for her. After all, she shared her biggest secrets with me.

She also told me that she only employed Dario because he reminded her of me. Well, the real thing is back, and I'm not leaving, so If he thinks he's going to be staying close to Marcel and Mercy, he's got another thing coming.

I'm going to get Dario.

I'll kill him if I have to.

I summoned up the courage to text the boss.

Javier : Marcel, je suis hors de France en ce moment, mais je serai de retour dans quelques jours. il y a beaucoup à dire à mon retour.

(Marcel, I'm out of France at the moment, but I'll be back in a few days. there is much to say on my return.)

But, there was no reply back. In my mind I imagined him hearing his phone beep and then his seeing that it was me and then reading, or even worse not even reading, the message before tossing his phone back onto the sofa, disregarding me completely, and that my digital beg for a second of his time was nothing more than a moment's minor irritation to him.