She carefully arranged her string of pearls. The collar of the shirt was retouched with a gentle but firm motion. Lightly she put out the cigarette in the metal ashtray and took one last look over her shoulder at the mirror.
She heard a slight knock on the door, saw a black shiny officer cap and from it’s shadow she heard just a few words in a purl German: Herr wartet im Auto auf Sie…
Coco purled back: Ja, wohl… she took her hat and scarf and left the room in a hurry. She walked precisely on her small almost silent heels. She stopped in front of a mirror in the hotel lobby and she checked her fringe. She got in the car holding her breath. The smell of the gasoline and steel mixed with the stale air of the Nazi’s uniforms always disturbed her.
He waited for her a little bit excited and as soon as she sat down he kissed her tightly on her lips. He signaled the driver to start the car and then rested his hand on her knee: “How was your day?” She gave him a little forced smile but she answered: As usual, what else could I do?
He tried to put his hand under her skirt, she gave him a dry look and she smoothed the folds of the skirt as if she wanted to remove a fleece. He withdrew his hand a little annoyed and said: I could hardly wait to see you. She had a dry smile: Why? We have just seen each other in the morning. He looked down: Yes, but in the morning I was in a hurry. She answered looking through the smoky car window: You Germans, are always in a hurry.
A successful woman is always alone, even if she has lovers that seem to be at her feet, she is still alone.
Coco Chanel died alone, in her hotel room, at Ritz where during the German occupation she consumed her love with a Nazi officer and it seems he was not the only one…
