A QUESTION OF CURIOSITY

(Elsa Maxwells Ball, "Callas Week", Venice, 1957)

The air was thick with the cloying sweetness of tuberose and rose bouquets and the faint tang of champagne, mingling with the warm, musky sweat of the crowd as Elsa Maxwell bulldozed her way through the glamorous throng of jet setters, tycoons, film stars and socialites. Rustling in her black taffeta, and weighed down by brassy gold jewelry which clanked as she walked, she ushered Mari Meninghini-Callas, with a possessive hand on her arm, to a couple who were sitting at one of the tables. Maria's husband, Giovanni Battista "Titta" Meninghini dutifully trailed behind as Maria passed through as if a Queen presiding over a court, nodding and smiling to some, bestowing a word on others. 

"My darling Maria! I have someone that you simply must meet! Now, I know you promised me a private word, and I understand that you are very busy tonight meeting your fans, but this is someone very special!"

"Oh? Who is that?" Maria asked, her interest piqued. 

"Madam Maria Meninghini-Callas! Meet Aristotle Onassis! You are the two most famous Greeks in the world!"

Elsa's hand lingered on Maria's back, as she slowly and imperceptibly pushed her forward. 

Ari rose from the table, as did his much younger wife, Tina. His shadow dancing on the damask behind him on the wall as the flickering candle caught his figure. He approached Maria, and took her hand and bent over it to kiss it, as one would when meeting either royalty, or perhaps a goddess (even one draped in a Dior serpentine emerald green gown). He raised his eyes behind his dark glasses to look at her directly, and said, "Madam Meninghini-Callas, this is indeed an honor". 

His touch, his kiss, it sent shockwaves through her. It felt like the room had suddenly gone silent, as if the world was holding its breath. All to be heard was a strange hum as if everyone and everything had suddenly vanished aside from the pair of them.   

Before Maria had a chance to reply, Ari kissed her Greek style on both cheeks, which felt like sparks had flown. For the rest of the evening, and a few days after, Maria would touch her cheeks, convinced of burn marks.  

"May I present my wife, Tina" Ari said extending a hand towards her, as if signaling for her to come forward. 

Maria, who had poor eyesight anyway, but was so flustered with the electric shock running through her, could only stammer "charmed", as the blonde elegant petite Tina, draped in white, appeared to her as a cloud bathed in bright light. From somewhere she heard Titta clear his throat. 

"Oh, this is my husband, and business manager, Giovanni Battista Meninghini" Maria said turning her head. 

Ari grinned, gripped Titta's hand and shook it, slapping Titta's shoulder he said in fluent Italian, "You must be very proud! Quite a triumph tonight!"

"Yes. Very proud indeed" Titta responded. 

"Maria was divine! Divine!" Elsa said, touching Maria's arm as she spoke and staring up at her she added as her fingers sunk into Maria's skin, "She has quite kept her throne as "The High Priestess of Opera! She saw off all pretenders to her crown! And now the "two most famous Greeks in the world meet", I tell you, this could only happen during "Callas Week!" 

Titta, who didn't speak any English, was at a loss of what was said, but he could tell it was complementary. Tina smiled sweetly before being waylaid by an acquaintance who hadn't seen her since San Moritz a few months ago, and had some gossip to impart.  

"I will leave you to get acquainted" Elsa said patting Maria's arm before bustling off. Her wrinkled whale like body somewhat out of place amongst the glamor.  

"Two Most Famous Greeks?" Maria said to Ari in English, "But I think that may be incorrect. You are Anatolian. A Turkosporos!" 

"Madam Meninghini-Callas! I did not think that the High Priestess of Opera would stoop to such language!" Ari admonished in playful Greek, "I'm a hot blooded Greek male! Not the sperm of a Turk! I am the sperm of Zeus!"

Maria laughed girlishly. 

"You and I know where we are from, and who we came from" Ari reminded her, "a Greek is a Greek, no matter where they are born. I was born in Smyrna, you were born in New York, we were both born away from our sacred motherland, but here we are "The two most famous Greeks in the world". No one disputes that".

Titta looked on, quite unable to comprehend what the conversation was about, and Tina came floating back almost noiselessly. 

"My apologies. I was called away by Falma, Countess Forreno that is, she is hosting another "Ski Lodge Adventure" and wished to invite me. I do hope I have not missed anything"

"The gossip from San Moritz never stops, and neither do the invites" Ari said, "I never liked skiing myself. Falling ass first down a mountain has never appealed to me". 

"Please do forgive my husbands bluff sailor ways" Tina said a little simperingly, "Do you ski, Madam Meninghini-Callas?"

"Sadly, I have never had the time. Due to my art, vacations are difficult. Besides, I do not favor the cold, or any sport that could injure me. I far prefer to be by the sea."

Tina smiled sweetly and blinked. This meant that Maria did not ride either.

"Titta" Maria said turning to him, "I'm thirsty. Darling, fetch me a Dom Pérignon."

Titta shuffled off obediently. 

Tina could not imagine commanding Ari in such a way, and she bit her lip to prevent herself from smiling. 

Sadly for Maria, she could not remain at Ari's side all evening, she was after all the star attraction, and she was either taken away to be introduced to people, or people came to congratulate La Divina on her triumph that evening, and some men even wished to dance with her. Everyone wanted to offer Maria the Opera singer on her performance. Very little was said about Maria the woman. No one enquired about her, except perhaps Ari. But, no matter where Callas went and who she saw, and who told her she was "fabulous", "outstanding" or called her performance "moving", to Maria, it was Ari's presence that lingered. She could feel him somewhere in the crowd always watching her like an eagle, his cologne still hung in the air around her, it was if he had attached himself to her. Titta trailed behind her, lost in the sea of languages, only able to answer if someone spoke to him in Italian. If anyone addressed him as both Maria's manager and her husband, it was either Maria or anyone else who spoke Italian, who had to translate. The jet set was multicultural, but French and English were the lingua-franca for anyone who was anyone, and wished to get by in high society. 

Towards the end of the evening, the orchestra struck up a waltz. 

"Madam Meneghini-Callas" Ari said appearing by her side like a thunderbolt, "May I have the honor of this dance?"

Maria hesitated for a moment, she was always a little shy on the dance floor, partly due to her height as she towered over most men (including her husband), and partly due to the fact that she couldn't see well, and partly due to the fact that Titta was not much of a dancer either (although in his younger days he had cut a dash with the ladies). However, the moment she accepted Ari's request, and he swept her away, she knew this time would be different. There was just one thing bothering her though.

"Ari" she whispered as they joined hands and began to dance, "don't you feel a little awkward? I mean, I am much taller than you, and I am even wearing heels."

"Oh don't worry about that" Ari responded cheerfully, "I generally look taller when I am standing on my wallet"

Maria couldn't help but laugh at his quip. 

He then pulled her closer, his grip hardening like oak, and whispered in her ear, his hot breath against her neck, "Besides, I prefer to look up to beautiful women, Maria". 

Maria (despite the pleas of her host, Elsa, Ari and even Tina) left the party in the early hours of the morning. As she was leaving, a flashbulb popped, and an extraordinary picture was taken which captured the moment in posterity. Towering over Ari and Titta, Maria with a look of almost consternation on her face, stares down at the men below her. One hand grips her purse and her sunglasses, the other is at her throat. She is however looking at Ari, not her husband, whom she has has her back to. Ari (whom the picture unfortunately makes out to look like Mr Punch) dominates. He smiles widely, radiating confidence and power. Titta stands behind Maria, bags under his eyes from the long day and late night, he looks ready for sleep. Ari looks as if he has just gotten started. The two men clasp hands on Maria, almost as if they were making a pact, and in a way they were. But not in the way Ari had suggested (vowing for the continued success of Maria), but rather two sides gearing up for battle. The photograph could be likened to Troy with two sides fighting over their Helen, a Greek comedy with Maria as the mountain, Ari as the rising sun and the moon shaped balding Titta, almost sinking out of the picture.

Tina and Ari left the ball soon after Maria as the party was starting to peter out, and sat in silence in the gondola as it took them back to the port where The Christina was docked. 

Ari smoked, and Tina glanced at him from time to time and then looked away as the boat made its way away from the ambient sounds of the party, through to the quiet city with creaked and groaned in the early morning. Nothing but the swish of the oars, and the sound of lapping water was to be heard. The pale moon, ready to retire for the night, danced a last dance on the water.  

"Countess Forreno" Ari said acridly. 

"I happen to enjoy her skiing parties"

"Will He be there?" Ari asked looking at Tina. 

"Who?"

"You know damn well who. Look at you. A married woman. My wife. The mother of my son. Having an affair..." 

He shook his head and then added, "You know you shouldn't sneak around. It doesn't look good. I know, why don't you bring him to The Christina? Have him meet me and the children?" 

"I do not believe you mean that"

"Why shouldn't I mean it? I am a man of my word. After all, we have separate beds. We live separate lives. We meet to put on a face for the world when we need to. Your father won't grant you a divorce, so rather than appear the cuckolded husband, I think I would like to finally meet this man."

Ari threw his cigarette into the canal. The hissing sound it made sounded somehow unusually loud.

Back on the ship Tina bade Ari a stiff "goodnight" and then retired to her own cabin, where her maid was waiting for her to take her wrap, and help prepare her for bed. But before that, Tina left her cabin barefoot and quietly made her way through the plush ship to Ari's cabin. He had left the door open slightly, and she stood with her back against the wall, listening to him. He was talking to one of his "fixers". They were his crack squad, (the tycoon equivalent of Catherine de Medici's Flying Squadron), whom he used to fix problems, destroy competitors by digging up dirt, and get information on anyone from the crew member who was stealing champagne, to what deals his rival (and brother in law) Stavros Niarchos was hatching. 

"Find out when and where Maria Meninghini-Callas is performing for the foreseeable future....I want flowers in her dressing room and a bottle of Dom Perignon delivered before each performance...find out what flowers she likes...the card must be from myself and Mrs Onassis...I want the best flowers and the best champagne possible...spare no expense in finding out about her. I don't care who you have to fuck, who you have to bribe, go through the damn bin outside her villa if you have to..." 

Tina smiled and walked away. 

In her suite at the Ritz, Maria was in bed, her operatic score propped up at her knees, one of her poodles wheezing at her feet.

Titta came out of the bathroom, switched off the light, and stretched as he walked across the plush carpet, his blue and white pajamas clashing with the décor of the hotel. 

"I don't know about you, but I am exhausted!" he said as he got into bed. "Those bloody shoes ripped my feet to shreds". 

"Titta" Maria suddenly said, "Do you think I'm beautiful?"

"Of course I do my dear, and everyone else this evening thought it too". 

"What did you think of Mr & Mrs Onassis?" 

"I don't really remember too much of her because there were so many people there, but I thought he was uncouth"

"Uncouth?" Maria said her brow furrowing. 

"You know Maria" Titta said yawning and pulling the cover over him as he lay down, "Rough. Exuberant. Flashy. Not our kind of person. Anyway, goodnight my dear"

Maria smiled wanly as he rolled over and began to snore. She willed herself to concentrate on the music in front of her, but the music in her head was of an entirely different kind. The strains of the waltz kept coming back, and along with it Ari's breath on her neck, his voice, she could still taste his kisses, feel his hand around her waist, and his hand grasping hers tightly. 

Maria gave up on the struggle and turned the light off. She tossed and turned, but it made no difference. Ari's image, the taste of his Havana Cigars mixed in with Cypres-musc cologne and the tangy salt of the sea, was always around her and on her. Eventually she lay on her back and looked at the dark ceiling letting her senses finally overwhelm her. As a woman she was an operatic nun, it was Callas who was the inapproachable High Priestess. Maria the operatic nun did not know what these feelings were or how to understand them. Callas The High Priestess told her that she was not allowed to have them. The two Marias lived for their art, and nothing more. Maria eventually decided that the best thing to do was to stay away from Ari as much as possible.  

Oblivious to Tina listening in on him earlier, but aware of the feelings he knew he had awakened in Maria, Ari went on to the deck of The Christina to smoke a cigarette and look out on Venice. Dawn was peeking through a sky thick with clouds. The air felt heavy with the promise of rain and the sleepy city was filled with the scent of ozone and briny lagoon water as a squall whistled in. A storm was coming, and he smiled as he planned to be in the very centre of it.  

Next: The Tar Pit