Frida had just two weeks left at home, before she had to leave the island to continue her training, when her great friend Lenka introduced her to Albert, known as Ali, a worker on a barge at the port. After several drinks and hours of hot, slow dances where they melted into each other, he offered to take her home. In fact, they ended up on the barge, much to the satisfaction of the young woman, hungry for any adventure, however foolish, that she could hold on to as a memory to savor as the plane took her far away from the island. For the first time, aroused by the rocking of the boat and the novelty of a bed made on the oily-smelling floor, she gave herself passionately to an exceptional lover, one capable of satisfying her frantic quest for thrills, fun, and parties before her big departure. She had been wondering anyway if her six-year relationship with José, known as Jo, from school, might not be getting a bit frayed around the edges, what with its ups and downs, its little secrets, the breakups and the makeups common to first love and the capriciousness of youth. Not to mention the fickleness of the human heart.
Whatever the truth of that relationship, now, bound by mutual pleasure and sexual satisfaction, the lovers clung together over three days of passionate coupling. A single shared towel soaked in seawater was all they needed to freshen up before twining round each other again through hours of exceptional pleasure.
Frida discovered that a small patch of skin on her chin had been rubbed raw by the constant friction of Ali’s stubble, but still felt an overpowering need to feel him inside her. Stories of women held as sex slaves on some of the boats crept into her head but then disappeared again just as quickly from her orgasm-fogged brain. She wanted more and more again, until at last dawn broke on Monday morning. Then she knew she had to get home before her family started asking Lenka and her other friends where she was and launched a search party. Especially as on Saturday night Frida was supposed to have met her steady boyfriend so that they could go together for a meal hosted by an important member of the extended family.
Now unable to be apart from each other, Ali and Frida took over a small room belonging to one of his friends in a building where they knew nearly everyone and had to be extremely careful not to give themselves away. In the silence of the locked room that, with its low ceiling and closed windows, reminded Frida of a crypt, they had to suppress every sigh, every moan. Still, she could hardly wait to feel him erupt deep inside her. He told her later that the sensation was like a combination of an earthquake and molten lava. One evening, when they were visiting one of Frida’s aunts, they were so desperate for each other that they snuck off quickly to sink into an inexpressibly raw coupling on the dusty concrete floor of a nearby construction site.
From the start, the intensity of her pleasure in their carnal liaison grew day by day, beyond anything she had experienced in the six years with her first lover. All Frida could think about was how to satisfy her overwhelming desire for him, a need so all-consuming that only his embraces could quench it. She even started to seriously consider giving up on her training so she wouldn’t have to leave.
The next weekend, the last before her looming departure, he went with her on a farewell visit to one of her aunts on the family’s tribal land. Leaving the car on the side of the road, they set off across the freshwater creek, following the track to her home.
Her aunt had returned a while ago from the town to which she had fled years ago, leaving her husband and children for a much younger man. She had come back home, alone, to care for the unoccupied land of her deceased relatives. She lived on a small hill, facing the sea, where she now welcomed them joyfully while the rhythms of fig-bark clappers and local Kaneka music from her little radio added a touch of gaiety to the scene. After the customary exchanges over the gifts of fabric, money, and groceries brought by the young couple, she spread out a big mat in the shade of a mango tree where, with Frida’s help, she laid out cutlery, plates, glasses, and dishes of food to share. Lunch passed peacefully while Frida answered questions about her departure and they shared news of the wider family.
Overcome by the wine, tired from his recent sleepless nights of sexual excess and from driving three hundred kilometers since dawn, Ali was soon snoring on a pillow placed beside him.
The two women cleared everything off the mat and quickly retreated into the shady interior of the hut. Their talk soon turned to Frida’s sexual infatuation and the dilemma she was facing. When her aunt asked her about her future with Jo, who had recently shown Frida the house that was being built for them to move into on her return, she replied that Ali was pushing her to make a clean break with Jo before she left. She intended to do that as soon as they got back to town. But her aunt advised her to take plenty of time to examine her conscience, her heart, her body, and her whole being, because this was something that would affect her future and her entire life. Besides which there was also the agreement between their respective families, who had always supported their relationship and prevented them from splitting up even after serious disagreements. Her aunt encouraged her to think really hard about it and not go chasing shadows while the real thing slipped through her hands.
The following evening, after an afternoon as torrid as the night she and Ali had spent in a hotel room on the way back, Frida arranged to meet Jo to explain her absence over the last few days: she was leaving him for someone else. He responded, “Listening to you, I think you’ve been having too much of a good time with your friends, especially Lenka, who has so much influence over you. You’re in no state to make this decision now, that obviously involves both of us and our life together. Instead, I would advise you to go away quietly without committing to either of us and do the training course you’ve always wanted to do. Just go, Frida, do what’s best for you! And I’ll wait for you here at home. We’ll have lots of time to talk about this when you get back.”
Later, during the night in the dark little crypt of their locked room, after Frida murmured what Jo had said into the ear of her lover lying over her, there was a deathly silence that seemed to her to last an eternity. Then once more he submitted her whole being to their inescapable desire for each other. All thoughts on her climax, breathless and smothered by his kisses, she was barely aware of his hands tightening around her neck.
From La Vieille dame, published 2016 by Madrépores. By arrangement with the publisher. Translation © 2024 by Mandy Hewett. All rights reserved.