General Fiction posted August 6, 2025

Chapters:

...15 16 -17- 18 ...

tfawcus

Tony Fawcus, ex-RAF Navigator and Junior School teacher, spent 22 years living on South Australia's Fleurieu Peninsula where he ran a small farm and a B&B cottage before his recent move back to Adelaide.

He is an accomplished novelist and is currently at the #7 spot on the rankings.

He is an accomplished poet and is currently at the #84 spot on the rankings.

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Out of his Depth

A chapter in the book Dmitri's Extraordinary Fate

Dmitri's Extraordinary Fate: 17

by tfawcus

Background
As a result of his twin sister's traumatic death, Dmitri became catatonic but slowly recovered under Elena's care. He is in love with Leila, whose mother is terminally ill in Syria.

Now that he was alone, Dmitri began to think more clearly. He felt deeply ashamed of the way he had spoken to Elena and knew he owed her an apology. Appropriate words were weaving and reweaving themselves in his mind when the kitchen clock whirred. It emitted four brisk dings, as if to let him know that time was not to be wasted. However, as Dmitri's idea of dressing up consisted of clean socks, a fresh t-shirt, and a splash behind the ears—a ten-minute job at most—he decided there was no hurry. He wandered out into the orchard and lowered himself into a deckchair in the shade of a pear tree. He needed time to compose himself and to work out how best to reunite with Leila. She was going to need him by her side. He was sure of it.

Time slipped by unnoticed, and Elena's call from her bedroom window brought him up sharply. 'Dmitri! Where are you? We have to leave in three-quarters of an hour, and you still haven't changed.'

Not wishing to offend her further, he struggled to his feet. 'Coming! I won't be a sec.'

He dashed indoors and took the stairs two at a time. He was met by a stunning figure on the landing. Elena wore an elegant dress of grey-blue silk. A pearl pendant hung from her neck, and she had drawn her hair into a neat bun secured by a marcasite comb.

'Be a dear, would you, and do up my zip. I can't quite reach it.'

As he approached, he became aware of a subtle and intoxicating scent of jasmine and roses. His heart sank. A clean t-shirt and a roll-on deodorant? Not tonight. But what else could he do?

As she always did, Elena came to the rescue. 'I've laid out Stanislav's evening clothes. They're in your room. He was much the same size as you. Go and get yourself cleaned up, and after you've put them on, I'll come and see if there are any small adjustments needed. Hurry now, we haven't much time.'

Ten minutes before they were due to leave, she gave a gentle tap on his door. 'How are you doing? May I come in?'

She entered to find him standing awkwardly in front of the mirror, struggling to put his cufflinks on. She took over with an air that suggested she'd done this many times before.

'I'm sorry I spoke to you like that in the kitchen. It was inexcusable, but I was so worried about Leila that I hardly knew what I was saying.'

Elena squeezed his arm. 'I know. We're both worried, but the situation will be much clearer when she arrives in Kyiv. I told her to get in touch as soon as she knows what’s happening, and if there's any delay, to come back here. There's no point in her being alone in a big city and worrying herself to death. So try to put it out of your mind for this evening. Easier said than done, I know...'

Swiftly, and with deft flicks, she fashioned his bow tie into a perfect knot. For a moment, their eyes met in the mirror. She gave a slight smile while brushing imaginary specks from the shoulders of the dinner jacket. The trousers pinched slightly at the crotch, but it was too late to do anything about that.

'You'll just have to draw your stomach in and stick your chest out. Now, let me stand back and take a look at you.' She made him turn around a couple of times. 'My, what a handsome young man.'

He glanced in the mirror again. A striking figure met his gaze, tall, slender, and slightly off-kilter. His lip curled in a half-smile of approval. Nonetheless, he felt as though the clothes had a memory of their own. Stanislav's scent, faint but clinging, still lived in the lining, and the starched collar itched slightly at the back of his neck. He was deeply aware of wearing a dead man's clothes and wondered what Elena was thinking. The war had not only stolen her menfolk, but the way of life that went with them. Tonight, he promised himself, that would all change, even if only for a few hours.

He bowed slightly from the waist and held out his arm in a gentlemanly gesture learnt from the movies. 'Shall we?'

However, the savoir-faire was only skin deep. Under the veneer, his knees shook, and his heart was fluttering like a butterfly caught in a net.

***

The evening light cast long shadows across the road. Elena drove confidently and with her full attention, being well aware of the dangers of dusk.

Dmitri sat stiffly beside her, one hand resting on his knee, the other fiddling with his cufflink. He had only worn cufflinks once before, for a school concert in the days when Mira was still alive. She had insisted he dress up for the occasion. That had been in a borrowed shirt, too. He remembered how she had teased him about it.

He wondered what Leila was doing right now and suddenly felt very much alone. How he wished she were on his arm this evening. He was going to be lost without her.

'You won't have to speak much tonight,' Elena said without turning. 'Just listen. Take it all in. The major is an urbane host who likes to hold the floor. He doesn't suffer fools gladly, so don't try to be smart with him, and don't try to keep up with his drinking. Just answer when you're spoken to. Don't worry. You'll be all right.'

The road narrowed and curved through ancient farmland, hedged with dog rose and hawthorn. Ahead, the major's residence rose like a monument from another century: a sprawling stone house with ivy-clad chimneys and leadlight windows that glinted in the setting sun. Banks of rhododendron lined the driveway, their vibrant autumn colours echoing the distant glory of summer.

Dmitri stared at the house. 'It's a mansion.'

'It's old money. Land. History. Don't let it overawe you.'

His mouth twisted into a mischievous grin. 'Too late. It already has.'

He knocked on the heavy, oak door, wondering what kind of man he might have become if he'd grown up in surroundings such as these.

***

A butler wearing a tailcoat, black waistcoat, and white tie greeted them. Slightly stooped, he had more the air of an old retainer than a servant.

'Good evening, sir. Madam. Follow me, please.'

Elena winked at him. 'I see you are a jack-of-all-trades, Fedir. How handsome you look in your waistcoat and tails.'

Fedir maintained the charade and replied with a deadpan expression, 'It's good of your ladyship to say so.'

Inside, the house was cooler than Dmitri expected. The entrance hall was grand but not ostentatious. Dark oak panels held the muted glow from a gap-toothed chandelier. The slate floor was spread with worn rugs, and everything smelt faintly of wax and age.

As they waited to be announced, Dmitri felt a prickle at the back of his neck. Something about the house unnerved him, but he couldn't put his finger on it. He glanced at Elena, but her gaze was fixed ahead, calm as ever. He took her arm and escorted her through the door.

The drawing room was filled with the golden light of early evening. Pavla stood near a side table already set with decanters and glasses. A flute of sparkling wine in one hand, a cigarette in the other, she wore a velvet jacket the colour of dried pomegranate, with a long silk scarf knotted carelessly at her hip.

'Pavla,' Elena said, kissing her cheek. 'You look scandalous.'

Pavla purred. 'And you, my dear... What am I to say? You look divine!'

She turned to Dmitri, holding out her hand. He stooped forward, uncertain whether to kiss it or not.

'Come now, don't be shy.'

Dmitri had no idea how to handle this dramatic change in Pavla, from austere teacher to Bohemian artist. He straightened up awkwardly, took her hand in his, felt its dry, papery warmth and bobbed down again, pressing his lips to her knuckles with exaggerated care, as though afraid of breaking her.

At that moment, the major swept across the room with open arms.

'Pavla! You've been charming our young guest already, I see.' He laughed, touching her shoulder briefly, then turned to Dmitri with a more formal air. 'How good to see you again, young man. But what have you done with that gorgeous lady of yours?'

Elena interjected gently. 'Leila sends her apologies, Andriy. She was called away unexpectedly. A family crisis.'

'I am sorry.' The flicker of disappointment in his voice quickly vanished beneath his polished smile. 'I was looking forward to meeting her again. A veritable angel. You're a lucky fellow, Dmitri.' Turning his attention back to Elena, he said, 'Never mind. Who needs the bud when we have the rose? Many happy returns, my dear. What is the saying? Life begins at forty?'

He swept two glasses up from the side table, presenting one each to Dmitri and Elena, and helped himself to a third.

'A toast to the young horse whisperer and to the most beautiful lady in the room.' Here, he glanced at Pavla, intentionally adding a touch of ambiguity to the statement. He winked and said, 'I shall leave you two divas to fight it out while I whisk young Dmitri away. Come, lad. Let me introduce you to The Right Worshipful Mayor of Velinkra, otherwise known as Ruslan Borodin, the biggest scoundrel on God's earth.

He clapped his arm around Dmitri's shoulder and guided him across the room.

As soon as they were gone, Elena turned to her friend. 'The cheek of it! Divas, indeed! And fancy him alluding to my birthday like that. Outrageous! I dislike being reminded of my age at the best of times, but forty! He knows the significance of that as well as I do. Is the man trying to insult me?'

'Oh, calm down, dear. You know what he's like—especially after a few drinks. It's better just to ignore it.' However, the exchange had been enough to make Pavla realise what a fool she had been, arranging for the presentation to take place on Elena's birthday. She hoped and prayed the mayor wasn't going to make matters worse by mentioning it in his speech.

'Come and meet the doctor and his wife. They are new to Velinkra. A charming couple.' Pavla hoped the diversion would take Elena's mind off the perceived insult. Having made the introductions, she excused herself on the pretext of powdering her nose.

She slipped out of the drawing room and headed straight for the kitchens. There, as she had suspected, Fedir's tailcoat hung over the back of a chair, and he and the cook were busy sticking candles into a birthday cake.

'Fedir, you old fraud, come here a moment.'

Fedir wiped his hands on a tea towel. 'Yes, your ladyship?'

'And you can cut that out. I was Pavla yesterday, and I'll be Pavla again tomorrow. Now, look. The major and I have made a terrible mistake. Our dear friend, Mrs Prishtina, is going to be mortified if her birthday is publicly acknowledged. Drop the number of candles down to eighteen, scrape off Elena's name and get cook to write Dmitri instead.'

'But I can't do that. The major will be furious. You know how he takes to being disobeyed. It'd be more than my job's worth. He's already the wrong side of half a bottle of champagne.'

'You leave the major to me. Just do as I say.'

'All right. If you say so, but I don't like it. I don't like it at all. On your head be it if this blows up in our faces.'

Meanwhile, back in the drawing room, the major was doing the introductions. 'Ruslan, my dear fellow, I'd like you to meet Dmitri Zahir, the fine young man who saved my horse yesterday. Dmitri, Mayor Borodin.'

The mayor held out his hand. Dmitri clicked his heels together, seized the proffered hand and shook it vigorously. 'Pleased to meet you, Your Worship.'

His Worshipful Mayor retrieved his worshipful hand and said, 'I'm pleased to meet you, too, Mr Zahir, but I think we can dispense with the formalities in present company, can't we? You may call me Ruslan, if I may be permitted to call you Dmitri?' He gave a wan smile while surreptitiously rubbing his fingers together in an attempt to restore circulation.

Dmitri coloured slightly, uncertain what he should say next, but was saved by the gong.

'Ladies and gentlemen. Dinner is served.'

As the party moved forward, Dmitri fell into step behind them, heart still fluttering. He had no idea what awaited him behind the double doors, but he knew one thing for certain: he was out of his depth.

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#10
August
2025

Characters

Dmitri Zahir, a teenage boy recovering from catatonia (a state in which someone is awake but does not seem to respond to other people and their environment).
Mira Zahir, his twin sister, who was killed in a bomb attack.
Elena Prishtina, a volunteer carer looking after Dmitri and aiding his recovery.
Leila, a Syrian girl employed by Elena whom Dmitri has fallen in love with.
Pavla Miret, an art teacher.
Andriy Kolt, an army major.
Fedir, his faithful retainer
Ruslan Borodin, the Mayor of Velinkra

Setting: Major Andriy's ancestral home on the outskirts of Velinkra (a fictional town in the Carpathian Mountains)

British English spelling and grammar are used throughout.

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