Here's My Heart

By Chrissy

The turning of a key in the lock awoke him and he looked up quickly. It was still dark, but the first songbirds had begun their dawn chorus so sunrise could not be far away. He was slumped at the table, the whisky glass still gripped in his hand. He had fallen asleep, or maybe he had fallen into a stupor for his bleary eyes saw that the whisky bottle was almost empty. His body felt cramped and sore and he was about to stand and stretch when she came into the room. He remained unmoving, watching as she lit the lamp, the cheerful hum in her throat causing his anger to rise.

"Where have you been?" he demanded, his Spanish accent thick, his words rasping.

She spun in surprise. "Luis!? What on earth are you doing sitting here in the dark? Why didn't you go to bed? You knew I would be late."

"I was waiting for you. What time is it?" He stood uncertainly, his chair scraping back and then toppling noisily to the floor. He stepped into the light and swayed dizzily, running fingers through thick curly hair in confusion.

"Christ! You're dead drunk! Look at you!" Her face contorted with exasperation. She threw a handful of coins onto the table. "Here! Go buy yourself more whisky. Get drunk! Get drunker! Never mind the fact that the rent is behind."

He tried to talk, but his tongue moved thick and slow in a mouth that was parched. "Where have you been?" he slurred again, clutching the wall so as not to fall. His senses spun sickeningly.

Disgust in her eyes, she stomped from the room, her stiff petticoats swishing from side to side. "You know where I've been," she threw back. " I've been in rehearsals at the theatre."

Following her unsteadily, he took a gold watch from his vest. It was the only possession he owned of any value. His bloodshot eyes squinted to see the dial in the dim room. "At the theatre? Until this time? It's 4:30, Julia," he said dryly. "The theatre closes at midnight. Where have you been? Where did you get that money?"

Pointedly ignoring him, she sat on the edge of the bed and undressed, pulling stockings from her long, shapely legs. "I'm tired, I don't want to argue, Luis."

He came close, aware that layers of clothing were being stripped away from her slender, curvaceous body. "I don't want to argue either," he murmured. "So tell me the truth for once in your life. Have you been with a man?" Tears filled his eyes at the thought. "Did he give you that money?"

She sighed impatiently. "Of course not, Luis." She was now completely undressed. She pulled ivory combs from her hair and shook the tangled curls free. He watched as she moved deliberately across the room and took up the hairbrush. Julia was brazen and confident in her nakedness. He had never known a woman as uninhibited or unbridled by conventions. It was one of the reasons he adored her so.

He came up behind her, his eyes on her reflection in the mirror. "You're lying," he sneered, his voice a whisper. His arms moved under hers and he roughly cupped a round breast with each hand. He lowered his lips and grotesquely licked her shoulder with his tongue.

But Julia only laughed. She leaned back to him, a playful look in her green eyes. "That's right. I'm lying. I am a whore, Luis. You have married a detestable whore."

She was playing with him. It was an old game that they shared. The familiar sexual force between them grew quickly.

Hot arousal spilled over him, he could not wait one more second. He wanted her. He had to have her. Savagely he brought their heads together and they kissed forcefully, mouths open wide, their tongues lashing fiercely. As they kissed, Julia's hands were busy. She ripped Luis's shirt from his shoulders, her palms roving over every inch of his bared chest. His trousers were quickly unbuttoned and yanked to the floor until he, too, stood naked.

Taking a step back, her eyes roved over him with desire and admiration. "You are quite a man, Luis! It doesn't matter how drunk you are, does it?"

With a quick movement he swung her up into his arms, kissing her fiercely again and again. Roughly he flung her onto the bed with an exultant almost sobbing laugh, tears of passion in his eyes. "Jesus, darling. Oh, God. I love you. I love you so much."

They fell upon each other, thrashing and biting, sucking and licking, hands moving everywhere. Passion without restraint. That was his Julia. In the bedroom Julia's abandoned bawdy nature came to the surface. Sensual delights guided her; she had no regard for prudish, simpering conduct. Laughing loudly, she took him into her mouth, her hands kneading his balls to stormy pleasure. "You are such a big boy, Luis," she teased, taking her lips from him. "And you have a magic tongue. Where is your magic tongue, darling? Julia wants her magic tongue."

His lips ceased their sucking at her nipples and he moved his head down her body. He pulled her legs apart and laughed as she yelped with joy. "You are a depraved and immoral woman," he breathed into her pubic curls.

"A very satisfied depraved and immoral woman" she returned breathlessly. "Don't stop Luis. Oh God! Don't stop - it's pure heaven. YOU are pure heaven, darling."

After a few minutes he could stand it no longer. His hot, hard cock demanded release. He raised his body over her squirming form and entered her. Madly, with cries bellowing from his lips, aware that she was as crazy with passion as he, he pumped in and out, feeling her nails claw at his back, aware that her thighs clutched themselves around him in a vice like grip.

"Am I rough enough?" he gasped, breathlessly, his body rocking up and down above her. "Am I hard enough?"

Orgasm was fast approaching for both of them. His whole body thrusting, he looked down into her face. She returned his stare with triumphant passion, her lips pulled back into a broad smile. When the climax hit, her body tensed, her features scrunched into a tight ball of euphoria and then her eyes opened once more. She looked at him evenly.

"You're everything, Luis. But you're just not rich enough. Now let's get some sleep. I'm exhausted."

***

Julia slipped into sleep easily, but he lay awake tormented with a thousand thoughts. He turned on the pillow to watch her as she slept. An old ache swept through him. Was love supposed to hurt? Was love supposed to twist the guts? He remembered something Julia had once said to him. "Love is like a flame," she had laughed. "It burns you when it's hot."

He tossed and turned on the pillow. Why must pleasure be filled with so much pain? Was it possible to love too much? Was it possible to love and hate the same woman at the same time? Time had passed and he knew Julia for what she really was - a lying, conniving bitch without a morsel of real compassion for anyone but herself. Yet still he loved her. He loved her to the point of obsession. He could not bear to be parted from her. He became insanely jealous and she seemed to take great pleasure from whipping his jealousy to a mad frenzy. She would taunt and tease him with tales of other men. He never really knew if it was true or not. He guessed that deep down she loved him, perhaps as deeply as he loved her. But despite it all, Despite the fights, the doubts and the torment, they were hopelessly bound together by bonds of endless carnal desire.

They had been married now for two years. Two years of tumultuous upheaval and constant migration from one place to another. They had spent some time in North Africa, but Julia's ideas for swindling the rich never seemed to work out the way she planned. They were caught time and time again. They would argue and fight, each blaming the other - but the arguments only served as a path to lovemaking. Wild, passionate lovemaking. Luis could never get enough of her.

They had traveled to Spain where Luis found work as a clerk in a small office. He had a quick and clever head for figures and was soon promoted. They rented an apartment in Madrid and finally found financial stability, but Julia quickly became bored. She didn't understand the Spanish language and she could not find work. She complained constantly and badgered Luis to move to London.

"I can find work on the stage in London," she cried, her eyes bright with anticipation. "I can become an actress again."

And so he had given in to her. He always gave in. They had traveled by train across Europe and by ferry to England. The journey took months for they never had enough money to buy tickets and either had to work for the ride or Julia resorted to her skill as a pickpocket.

It was wintertime in London when they arrived. A cold drizzle fell from gray skies heavy with rain. Luis looked about him and hated London in an instant. A painful ache started in his heart. He was so homesick. He longed for the caressing warmth and sunshine of Cuba.

But Julia was in her glory. She loved London. The city's intense energy and aliveness found a response in her strongest and deepest emotions. The city was a provocative challenge. London was a different breed. It was her breed. Instinctively she understood it. And it understood her.

The cobblestone streets teamed with people. Vendors strolled along, crying their wares. There were beggars and cripples, pawing at them for money. It was noisy, dirty, brawling, exciting and colourful. It was the heart of England.

"There's a place with rooms for rent," Julia cried pointing to a nearby inn.

Despite the fact that they had not a penny in their pockets, the landlord of the King's Arms graciously took them in.

"Damn that shipping line! Our baggage has been delayed," Julia declared to the landlord. Lies came so easily to her. "We have just arrived from America and have found ourselves without funds or belongings. This is very kind of you, sir. We will repay you at the end of the month without delay."

"We've had Americans here before," the landlord remarked, obviously impressed with Julia's distinctive accent, beauty and confidence. "Americans pay their debts."

"Does it always rain in England?" Luis murmured, brushing raindrops from his jacket.

The man regarded him suspiciously. "No. Not always."

The landlord turned back to Julia. "Where's he from? Spain?" He spoke as if Luis were not right there in the room.

"No. Cuba." Julia replied.

"Cuba?"

"Yes, it's an island off the coast of America."

The landlord seemed reassured at this information. "Oh, then he's an American too?"

Julia smiled. "Well, by proximity, I guess."

Luis was initially surprised at the apparent magnificence of their bedchamber. The walls were paneled in oak, dark and rich and the furniture was of a heavy style, elaborately carved with patterns of fruit and flowers. However on closer inspection he saw it was well worn and shabby. An immense four-poster bed hung with ponderous velvet curtains took precedence over everything else in the room.

"It looks sturdy enough for us," Julia joked as the landlord left them. "And if we pull those curtains we'll have complete privacy. No one will hear my screams."

"Either that or we'll die of suffocation," Luis snapped back. "Surely no air can get through such heavy drapery." He scowled at her. "What do you suggest we do at the end of the month, Julia dear, when the landlord demands his rent money?"

Julia flung herself back on the bed causing a cloud of dust to rise. "Stop worrying so, Luis," she pouted. "Anyway, by then I'll be working as an actress. Oh, darling. We are close to the Strand. It's where all the best theatres are located. Tomorrow we'll go exploring."

"And get soaked to the skin? Sounds like fun!" he returned dryly.

***

Julia's interview was at the Strand Playhouse. To Luis's horror she purchased a new silk gown for the occasion.

"How are we supposed to pay?" he cried worriedly. They argued constantly about money. "We are in London three days and already you have us in debt."

"Oh Luis," she paraded before the mirror, pleased with what she saw. "It's very fashionable to be in debt. All the wealthy are up to their necks in debt. Anyway, once I am on the stage we will have money for everything. Actors get paid very well you know. I'll probably make about 500 pounds a year."

Luis remained dubious. However, when Julia returned that evening she leaped into his arms. "I read for the part and it's mine," she cried happily. "Mr. Beaumont says I'm as spectacular as a show of fireworks on the Thames. Oh, Luis, he was very impressed with me. He's even rewriting my part to change my character to an American. Rehearsals begin tomorrow."

"How much money?" Luis asked relieved. Maybe things would go their way for once.

"Well," Julia hesitated, "during rehearsals we don't actually receive an income. But once the play begins I'll be paid handsomely. It's a wonderful play, Luis. It's going to be a big success - you wait and see. Stop worrying and relax, darling."

Relax. It was the one thing Luis could not do. He had not relaxed since the day he met Julia on the wharf and she told him the very first lie. There had been so many lies since.

However, for once Julia's predictions came true. The play was a success and Julia received her promised salary. They could afford to move from one room at the King's Arms to a 3-room suite at the Red Lion and enjoyed the many pleasures of having money in their pockets.

But time moved slowly for Luis. His dark looks and exotic accent were received with suspicion by the average Londoner who regarded London as the centre of the world and a man worth less for being born out of it.

He was lonely and unhappy and the whisky bottle made time pass. He hated being a 'kept man' and Julia never let him forget that it was her money that paid for everything. He tried to find work, but he was a fish out of water. He seemed to have nothing to offer in this teaming city of disdainful, arrogant Englishmen.

Julia spent hours at the theatre. She quickly made friends with the other actors and would chat happily with Luis on her return to their lodgings late at night. Luis's guts would churn with suspicion any time she mentioned a man's name. He loved her, but he did not trust her

But everything was about to change for Luis and Julia.

***

"Come to the theatre with me, Luis" Julia urged while dressing that evening. "It's the first night of Mr. Beaumont's new play and there will be champagne for everyone and even the Mayor of London will be in the audience. Please come Luis. You never take any interest in my work."

Luis sat on the bed watching her. "Every time I go to the theatre with you I am left alone for hours. You depart with your friends and forget all about me."

She laughed and pinched his cheek. "Ahhh! Poor baby! I will ensure you have a seat in the very front row and when the play is over I will come to you right away. I'll introduce you to everyone in this new play. Let them all see what a handsome brute my husband is. It will be fun. We can get drunk on champagne. And champagne is so much more civilized a drink than whisky."

When they arrived at the Strand Playhouse they found the place in an uproar. Reginald Beaumont, the play's author and director, ranted and raged, pacing up and down amid the mayhem.

"What's wrong?" Julia cried.

"It's that fool Charles Hogworth," wailed Reginald, wiping tears with a silk handkerchief. "He gone and broken his leg."

"Broken his leg? Is he hurt badly?"

Reginald flapped his handkerchief. "Who gives a fig?! His leg could have dropped off for all I care. What am I going to do, Julia? What?"

"What about the stand in, Jack Downs?"

"Oh, come on, Julia! Jack's merely a foolish apprentice. He's been drunk most of the time we've rehearsed. He never took anything seriously. Christ Almighty! What am I going to do? The Mayor and Mayoress are out there in the front row. This is first night. The audience has been specially invited by private invitation. Lord and Lady Bartlow came into town especially. Oh Christ. I'm finished in the theatre. I'll become a laughing stock!"

It was at that moment that Reginald's eyes found Luis. "Who's this?" he asked suddenly, his pale blue eyes roving up and down Luis in open lechery. Reginald's homosexual tendencies were well known in the theatre community.

"This is my husband, Luis," Julia smiled, slipping her arm possessively through Luis's. "Isn't he gorgeous?"

"I don't care how gorgeous he is," returned Reginald dryly. "Just tell me he can act!"

"Well - actually, he can," replied Julia quickly.

"Good God!" cried Reginald, his eyes widening as they traveled over Luis in mounting interest. "Don't toy with me Julia. My heart won't take it!"

"Luis is an excellent actor," continued Julia with animated certainty.

"Julia! What are you talking about?" Luis started, but she cut into his words.

"Oh come on, darling," she winked at him deliberately, "Don't be modest. You were one of the principal actors in the Spanish National Theatre. He's won awards," she said to Reginald. "But Luis has retired from the theatre."

"Retired? But he's so young?"

"Well, he has retired just for a few years. He chose to step back and allow others to achieve the same heights, didn't you darling?" Luis stared at her helplessly. "Er… yes" he mumbled wondering what she had in mind.

Reginald stared at Luis with increasing enthusiasm. "An actor from Spain, eh? You're the right age and you're handsome enough. Good God! You're just about perfect." His voice rose eagerly. He paced back and forth, almost talking to himself. "It's a role that is vital to the play, but there's only 20 or 25 lines. There's no time for him to learn anything, but we could write the lines on something and he could read them on stage. It can be done. Yes, it can be done. Get him to wardrobe, Julia. This may work. Yes, this may work. Get him to wardrobe right away, Julia, my love. The show will go on!"

Julia steered Luis through a narrow passageway crowded with restless actors and actresses in a variety of costumes. "This is ridiculous, Julia. I can't act. I've never acted," he whispered in agitation as she shoved him along.

"Oh hush, Luis. It's easy. You'll be wonderful. Don't you understand? This is my big chance. I can't let this slip through my fingers. I have the biggest role and the most lines in the whole play. This is MY night. This is MY chance to be noticed. Nothing is going to stop me."

As she shoved him along a labyrinth of passageways and down a flight of stairs Julia quickly explained the story line of Mr. Beaumont's play - 'The Maid's Dilemma' - to Luis. It was the kind of play that the English loved - a farce filled with comical consequences and much coming and going and banging of doors.

Luis would be playing the part of Beck, the lover of the wealthy mistress of the house. A lover who also dallies with the downstairs maid and even finds time to romance the young daughter of a local vicar. There were not many lines, but the part was pivotal to the plot.

'Wardrobe' turned out to be a huge disorganized low ceiling room overflowing with hundreds of costumes, some of which were gorgeous and donated by nobles, but most of which were cheap imitation stitched of shoddy inferior cloth. An overpowering aroma of old sweat and heavy stage make up stifled the dusty air as Julia steered a reluctant Luis to the back of the chaotic room.

He halted in surprised alarm as a shifting bulk emerged from the racks of costumes, blocking his way.

He almost stumbled back so struck was he by the strange sight before him. It was an extraordinary woman sporting a towering wig of such brilliant red and complicated style that Luis could not drag his startled eyes away. When he finally lowered his gaze and looked into the ancient wrinkled face beneath the wig his jaw dropped once again. Two brilliant and startlingly red spots of stage make up shimmered from each cheek. The outline of thin lips had been completely ignored and lip paint smeared haphazardly giving an almost clown like appearance. Pale blue eyes that shone with curiosity and intelligence were ferociously outlined in thick black charcoal. The total effect was quite disturbing and Luis lost his breath for a moment.

The dowager's plump body was trussed in a hugely hooped gown of brilliant green. Brown stains decorated each armpit and smears of stage makeup and greasepaint spattered the front. Luis decided that the strange woman had been wearing the dress for a long time.

Mrs. Mound had been watching Luis's scrutiny with amusement. "Well? Do I pass yer inspection, love?" she asked with a grin. Luis blushed, a quick apology forming on his lips.

"Oh, Don't mind me" she laughed loudly. "I'm what yer call eccentric. Eccentric and proud of it!" A small flitting hand came up and shoved the errant wig back into place. She turned to Julia "Who's this?"

"This is my actor husband, Luis. You know that Charles has broken his leg?" Mrs. Mound nodded. "Well, Luis is taking over the part of Beck"

Mrs. Mound's eyes ran up and down the man before her. "Quite an improvement on skinny ol' Charles," she grinned.

"Hope you're well endowed between the legs, dearie. In the first Act you get to wear silk tights and nothin' else," she grinned. "Get yer shirt off, mister, and let's see what's what under there."

She whistled between broken teeth as Julia yanked off Luis's jacket and shirt. "Nice! Nice! How about his legs? They got any shape? Get them trousers off."

Luis could do nothing but allow Julia to undress him down to his drawers. Mrs. Mound stood back and nodded her approval. "You'll fill out them sateen tights a treat. A real treat." She grinned and turned to Julia with a wink. "If he knows how to use them there God given endowments, I'd say you're a very lucky lady."

"Oh, he knows," Julia laughed playfully. "Believe me - he knows."

"We won't bother with anything under these 'ere tights, sweetheart." Mrs. Mound grinned to a blushing Luis. "Cuz yer beautiful crown jewels and yer loverly legs will be enough to put stars in their eyes." Then Mrs. Mound shoved him into a small side room and thrust stockings of thin satiny silk into his hand. "Put them on, lovie. Let's see ya in all yer glory."

Mr. Reginald Beaumont swept into Wardrobe just as Luis emerged wearing the tights and nothing else. Reginald almost choked into his lace handkerchief.

"Christ Almighty! I didn't think he looked like THAT under those clothes. Ye Gods! There'll be a rush on opera glasses. I'll have to raise the price and charge sixpence to rent each pair."

Mrs. Mound chuckled at Luis, "Looking at you, love, in them there tights. Well, it's like I got all me Christmas and birthday presents in one go. You are a treat. A real treat for my old eyes."

Mr. Beaumont took Luis by the shoulder and spoke quickly, explaining the story and giving instructions on where particular pieces of paper with the dialogue would be hidden.

To Luis's horror he discovered that for the first act he was to leap from the bed and hide behind a wooden screen where he must stand for a full twenty minutes dressed only in white silk tights and nothing else. He was to react and respond to the incidents happening on stage while remaining concealed from the other actors, but in full view of the audience.

"You don't do much but stand there and make the audience react," Mr. Beaumont breezed. "And any man who looks like you do shouldn't have much trouble with that."

Julia began to pout. She did not like the fact that Luis was garnering such attention from the director of the play.

"I have to get ready too, you know. Mrs. Mound! Where's my dress? Are you going to help me into it! There's not much time."

"Yes, Yes, get her ready," Mr. Beaumont flapped, his eyes remaining on Luis. "I have a feeling tonight is going to be a spectacular success."

***

Practically naked, Luis stood shivering in the wings as Mr. Beaumont strode out onto the stage amid lively applause.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen and welcome to the Strand Theatre" he said. "Tonight we present an original production - 'The Maid's Dilemma'. Tonight is first night. An exciting time in the world of the performing arts. But, unfortunately, a time when the unexpected happens and unforeseen circumstances prevail. However, the show must go on, mustn't it?" There was a stirring in the audiences as many murmured voices agreed.

Taking a dramatic breath, Mr. Beaumont continued, his rich voice prevailing every nook and cranny of the theatre. "I am sorry to tell you that Mr. Charles Hogworth, originally playing the part of Beck, has found himself incapacitated. But - never fear - the night has been saved. Stepping into the role, without having the benefit of rehearsal or familiarity with his lines, is Mr. Luis Vargas, a thespian of the Spanish National Theatre." He paused again for effect.

"In England we possess a great admiration for the 'good sport' and tonight we have found a good sport among us. I seek your indulgence, ladies and gentlemen. Please put your hands together and welcome Mr..…er, excuse me…Senor Luis Vargas." He waved to Luis to join him on stage. "A thespian of Spain's National Theatre."

Someone wrapped a blanket cloak around Luis's naked shoulders and pushed him onto the stage. A swell of clapping and some good-natured cheering greeted him and he smiled feeling stiff and awkward.

Mr. Beaumont wrapped a possessive arm around his shoulder. "Be kind to him, ladies and gentlemen. And enjoy this evening - it's all thanks to Senor Vargas."

To Luis's astonishment the man planted a wet kiss on his cheek before propelling him off stage.

"Christ!" Luis gasped to Julia, who had been watching from the wings. "I can't do this. It's all a lie. I'm no actor. You must tell them."

"Now, calm down. Don't get stage fright," she returned quickly. Then she, too, kissed him on the cheek. "I love you, darling," she whispered. "Don't worry, you'll be fine."