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Sunday, 10 July 2016

DIARY MEMORIES OF MOSCOW AND MORE BY FIONA CUMMINGS


A part of my life you may not have read about.

Counting the hours now before my lad leaves for his ten-day holiday. He has an eight hour shift first though. I think he is 90 per cent ready. Hub listening to the radio. It’s the tennis final in Wimbledon today.  It is sunny, then cloudy then pouring with rain. There is a bee or a wasp in here as I sit in my living room with two dogs acting like book ends either side of me. I have just come out of the gym where I did twenty minutes on the tread mill, so hopefully my mind set will start to feel better soon?

 

I was reminiscing today to Hub about a time I spent in Sochi, on the black sea. Oh I know I have spoken about this before, but in my life I have few good memories, so I like to frequently return to those happy moments.

 

I was 14 and madly in love with a Russian who was tall, beautiful blonde hair and steely blue eyes. He had a face that looked as if it was carved to perfection. He modelled and had every girl around him dreaming, but I was the lucky one. He chose me and we both totally fell in love.

 

I had my excruciating eye treatment during the day, well, morning really, right up till 1.pm. The pain was just awful. The cerium had improved since I first went as when it was brand new, it killed me as the fluid flew through my veins. I was left feeling so sick with it. The eye injections were the worst as it wasn’t like any western hospital, it was a narrow room, with eleven seats on the left and same on the right. There wasn’t enough space for two people to walk comfortably in between the rows of seating. The Dr would come in and go along the rows with newish needles, and pop pop pop injection after injection. Nowhere to wrest your head, you just put it back when you heard Galina. Galina if you were lucky, if not, it was another lady and her name has slipped my mind, but she was so scary to look at, an yet she was really sweet and gentle, but my word, her face looked as if she was sucking on bitter lemons. Each time one person was finished with their needles, they stood up, now bare in mind you could hardly see as you had just had a recycled blunt needle put into your eyeball. All it would take is for one of those patients to knock into the doctor as she was putting the needle in your eye.

 

One day a seven feet tall man walked into the room I think he was from Germany, he looked towards the rattling container of needles freshly boiled and just fainted. All seven foot of him across the floor. I never saw that poor guy again.

 

I had electric shock treatment and loads more of dreadful things happening in my life, so a relief with my new boyfriend was a much needed pass time, but the KGB and Russian Union had a better idea, they were not wanting me to date a Russian as I had a lot of media coverage and it would bring bad news to their country if anything was to happen to me. Now I thought it was just in case I got pregnant, but now I know more, I guess I was playing with fire, but at the time, I was happy to get burnt.

 

So we wondered why the wonderful Union paid for Mum and me to have a holiday? They hadn’t before. It was to part Sergei and myself.

 

 I left Moscow in the snow, and arrived in Sochi with burning hot sun. We were met off the flight at the bottom of the stairs by a stunning Government car. We had our personal driver and I had a Doctor and interpreter. The interpreter was from Moscow and I didn’t need one as I spoke Russian, but we were given one to know our every move. As for the Doctor? If he was a Doctor, I shall eat my balalaika.

 

We were driven along a narrow lane with magnolia trees and the blooms were the size of plates as my Mum described. We went to our own mansion for the few days we were there. Three staff met us at the door as we vacated the car. They met us as if we were Royalty. We were lead into the most magnificent house where we had a chef allocated to us for the days we spent there and the full top floor of the three story building was just for Mum and myself.

 

Gosh it was a true palace especially what I was used to in Moscow. The carpets were plush and there was a stunning dark wood wall unit all lit up with the finest quality of chrystal inside dishes full of fruit and chocolates and bottles of champagne with beautiful flutes to drink from.

 

We had our own huge balcony and it looked over the grounds where there were trees, flowers and beautiful seating areas with water features that attracted frogs who sang for us in their croaky voices.

 

This place was such a contrast in comparison to Moscow and in dead my home and more so the dreadful cold boarding school where I was forced to go to.

 

I have written before about how we were taken to plant a tree in the garden of friendship and what an honour that was for me, more so looking back rather than from the eyes of a fourteen-year-old.

 

One day I really hope to tell you my full story, one day if I find a publisher but more so find the courage and push to get off my but and do something other than just publishing to my blog. My life story is like no other, it will shock you in parts for sure, make you cry, make you realise how lucky you are and make you laugh until your stomach hurts, it will I hope allow you to live my life through words and at last people will see the real me and my real life.

 

Next time I talk to you, my Son will be on his way, or possibly have arrived. Have a lovely day Bloggets. X

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