Moneypenny's stranger returns


Corner of Balcarce and Defensa

‘Bond is standing in front of a Bentley; the window lowers and…. I can’t believe it, but it would seem that Bond was with Theresa May!!!!  She’s no doubt in town for the G20, trying to make a plea for her post-Brexit Britain, just one more amongst the other lost causes of this year’s gathering of the ‘Great forces’.   The window rolls up, Bond takes a step back and the Bentley drives off.

Bonds looks up and just as I am about to cross the street to meet him, I feel a hand on my shoulder.

“Don’t run away from me again”, he says, in that unmistakable Argentine accent. “It’s you, how did you find me?  I mean what are you doing here?” I utter in shear shock.

“I have a friend who lives near by, I was just leaving his apartment when I saw you standing here; I told myself I couldn’t let you get away yet again.  You’ve already escaped me twice, after La Viruta and then again after Gricel last week”, he responds with a slight smile.

“You seemed in ‘good hands’ when you left Gricel”, I retort, half mockingly.   I turn towards where Bond was standing only to notice that he’s disappeared.  “You also seemed to be in good hands if I recall correctly”, he responds.

“I was there with a friend”, I say in a very affirmative voice.  “Well so was I, with a friend”, he replies.  “Really, it seemed as if you had just met her?” I continue.  “Well she was a ‘new’ friend, but enough of this friend nonsense, come home with me now!” He says in a determined voice.  And before I can even attempt to respond, he takes my hand and we start waking up Defensa, we turn and walk through the market, passed the coffee shops and fruit stands to Bolivar; then up Bolivar to Plaza de Mayo; we go in complete silence, a silence that matches the calmest of the city on that day.  

Taking all precautions possible, president Macri has ordered a complete shut down of the city during the G20 summit.  All public transport is cut, people were told to stay home, shops to keep closed, Buenos Aires is a ghost town today.  Never have I experienced silence in this city before, everything else yes, but never silence.  The streets are quiet, no colectivos rushing by, no one shouting, no one running, no one pushing, it’s as if we had traveled to an alternate universe.
“Come, we’ll take Avenida de Mayo and cross 9 de Julio to take a taxi to Palermo, to my apartment”, he says as it suddenly starts to drizzle. I love it when it rains here, especially this time of year, it gives one a break from the scorching heat and washes away some of the filth that accumulates with time to reveal a new, more hopeful Buenos Aires.  We walk along the grand Avenida de Mayo and the drizzle now turns into rain, but neither of us seem to notice. We’re soaked but we keep walking in silence, trying not to break the meditative state of the city.  20 minutes later, we arrive at his apartment, penthouse in one of the modern buildings of Palermo.  “The first thing I want to do is get you out of those wet close”, he whispers in my ear while gently fondling my neck.

I feel hopeless, he was such power over me....and then I suddenly remember that all my troubles seem to have started in the penthouse suite…..and not too far off from here come to think of it……

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