POWER OF MEMORIES

One of the best things one can gather in life is the power we have to keep memories vivid and to relieve this memories as we wish.

Before I left London to go to Seychelles in January 1999, I had the opportunity to meet one of the most beautiful   Hungarian girl. She measured one meter seventy three, long browned hair, and her blues sea colored eyes would attract the attention of any man. Her smile would highlight her long facial gentled defined features. When I first spoken to Erika in Piccadilly Circus, she was casually dressed but her slimed body form was well showed on her silhouette.

Erika could hardly speak English at the time or understand it. But she was determined and persuaded enough to learn. After all, that is the reason why she was in London. She stayed at a Jewish family and on exchange for her room; she would clean the house and did some ironing for them now and then. The family did not need her to do this because they had already someone to fulfill this job, but Erika would feel better if she would help.  They were good to her. The mother would speak to her as if she was one of her own, she helped her on making certain decisions, encouraged and advised her, and I truly am convinced that she really cared for Erika. The son was on is twenties ,and once I had seen him taking photos of his friends in the house for a magazine for what I understood…they had a very nice home; a seven hundred square meter place, spacious and decorated with simplicity but with finest taste. Surrounded by a beautifully and well kept garden with a Greek look swimming pool, situated in one of the most prestige’s areas of London.

 

Although, life was not glamorous for all of us! At that time I was very much in love with Lillian and it was our fifth year together. Lillian, an English girl born in Hong Kong on the thirteenth of October on her early thirties, has two sisters. Catherine her middle sister, slightly taller than her, of late twenties, and Pamela of early twenties the smallest of them all. She must measure a meter fifty six not more.  Lillian and I had the same height a meter sixty nine. She weighed sixty one kg had slightly long brown hair, just touching her shoulders, gentle brown eyes that would soften her long firmed facial features. Moyra, Lilian’s mom was a teacher from Scotland, married to Tom, a Londoner high graduated in Scotland Yard police, responsible for the public security in Hong Kong.

The first time I saw and spoke to Lillian, was in Lisbon in a small hotel called Residencial Canada’ in 1994. She come to Lisbon from Algarve the south of Portugal where her parents had a villa in a small place called Tavira. She was in Lisbon because she had a job interview in one of the local secondary schools to teach English. She was shy but she had an interesting and mystique look. She was dressed casually with a hippie touch. Very feminine and at the same time, baba cool therefore was difficult to see the curves of her body on her silhouette.

I cannot say that I felt in love with Lillian at first site. But, besides trigging me, I could now at least speak English with someone interesting, English of origin and there was a big chance that she would eventually live in Lisbon for some time. So I decided to give her a room on the first floor where the reception was.  After all I had nothing to lose and it worked! Every time that she would go out of her bedroom she was obliged to see me because she had to pass in front of reception. Monday was a big day for her. The day of the interview! Late afternoon when she arrived in the hotel, I could tell by her mystic look that the interview went well. I smiled at her and I asked when she would start working. She was surprised of my reaction and she asks me how I knew that she got the job. I simply explained to her that her facial expressions said it all! Slowly but surely we started to have a bit more of dialogue between us… she left early morning the next day to go home, but she said  that she would come back within three weeks time. She was going to Italy for a small holiday before starting her job in Lisbon. At this time I really wanted to give her my mobile number but I was not sure if I should do it. I did not want to lose contact with her, but I did not want to put pressure on her either. After long reflection I decided not to give her the number. And soon after she left, I felt sorry for not doing it!

I remember saying it to myself “if it’s meant to be it will be”.