The Winner Stands Alone

"Igor!" Hamid says.

The man, accompanied by a much younger woman, looks straight at him. Ewa's heart starts pounding. She says to Hamid:

&nb

sp; "What are you doing?"

Hamid has already got up from the table. He has no idea what he's doing. He's walking toward Absolute Limitless Evil, capable of anything. Hamid assumes that Igor is just another adult and that he can confront him with either physical force or logical argument. What he doesn't know is that Absolute Evil has the heart of a child and takes no responsibility for its actions and is convinced that it's right. And when it doesn't get what it wants, it's not afraid to use all possible means to satisfy its desires. Now she understands how it was that the Angel changed so quickly into a Devil: because he has always nursed vengeance and rancor in his heart, even though he claimed to have grown up and overcome all his traumas; because he's unbeatable when it comes to succeeding in life, thus confirming his belief in his own omnipotence; because he doesn't know how to give up, having survived the worst possible torments through which he walked without so much as a backward glance, all the while repeating to himself: "One day, I'll be back, and then you'll see what I'm capable of."

"Apparently, he's found someone more interesting to talk to than us," says a former Miss Europe, who is also sitting at the top table, along with another two celebrities and the host of the party.

Ewa tries to conceal her unease, but she doesn't know what to do. The host seems almost amused and is waiting for some explanation.

"I'm sorry. He's an old friend of mine."

Hamid goes over to Igor, who looks suddenly uncertain. The girl with him says loudly:

"Hello, Mr. Hussein. I'm your new actress!"

People at the other tables turn round to see what's happening. The host smiles. It's always good to have something unusual happen at a party; it will give his guests plenty to talk about. Hamid is now standing in front of the man; the host realizes that all is not well and says to Ewa:

"I think you'd better retrieve Hamid, or, if you like, we can get another chair for your friend. His companion will, I'm afraid, have to sit elsewhere."

The guests have turned their attention back to their food and their conversations about yachts, private planes, and the stock market. Only the host keeps a watchful eye on what's going on.

"Go and talk to them," he says.

Ewa, however, isn't there. Her thoughts are thousands of miles away in a restaurant in Irkutsk, near Lake Baikal. The scene was different then, with Igor leading another man outside. Making an enormous effort, she gets to her feet and joins the two men.

"Go back to the table," says Hamid quietly. "We're going outside to talk."

That is the most stupid thing he could possibly do. She grabs his arm and, smiling, pretends to be happy to be meeting someone she hasn't seen in a long time. With great aplomb, she says:

"But supper's only just beginning!"

She doesn't add "my love"; she doesn't want to open the doors of hell.

"She's right. We'd be better off talking here."

Did Igor say that? Perhaps she's been imagining things and it isn't at all as she thought? Has the child finally grown into a responsible adult? Has the Devil been forgiven for his arrogance and returned to the Kingdom of Heaven?

She so wants to be wrong, but the two men are still staring at each other. Hamid can see something deeply perverse behind those blue eyes and, for a moment, a shudder runs through him. The young woman is holding out her hand.

"Pleased to meet you. My name's Gabriela..."

He doesn't return her greeting. The other man's eyes are shining.

"There's a table over in the corner. Why don't we all go and sit down there," says Ewa.

A table in the corner? Is his wife going to leave her place of honor at the top table and sit at a table in a corner? Ewa has already linked arms with both men and is leading them toward the only free table, near the door through which the waiters come and go. The "actress" follows behind. Hamid detaches himself for a moment and goes back to his host to apologize.

"I've just met a childhood friend. He has to leave tomorrow, and I wouldn't want to miss this chance to talk a little. Please, don't wait for us, I can't say how long we'll be."

"No one will steal your places," says the host, smiling, knowing full well that the two chairs will remain empty.

"I thought he was your wife's childhood friend," says the former Miss Europe waspishly.

Hamid, however, is already walking back to the worst table in the room, reserved for the celebrities' assistants, who, despite all precautions, often manage to slip in where they're not supposed to be.