Part 2 of my Landa and Shosanna fiction.
Many thanks to those of you who have signed up to be alerted regarding updates on this story. My faith in this story ebbed as I began to write but I am much encouraged by kind feedback from my friends.
This story is entirely fictional and all characters belong to their creator, Quentin Tarantino.
Please, please review as it means so much to a budding writer!
Shosanna sat in front of her dressing table mirror, applying her makeup. She stared at the reflection of her own face, trying to stay mentally calm and prepare herself for the night ahead. It would be easier if she had Marcel's complete support, but he had been horrified and disgusted when she had told him of her intentions. He had finally understood, after a furious row, the danger that Landa posed if Shosanna did not keep him happy, but it didn't change the fact that he could not bear the idea of her being in his company.
"And what happens if he wants to fuck you?" Marcel had asked, his voice trembling in fear at the potential answer.
Shosanna had sighed heavily. "Then I'll let him fuck me Marcel" she replied wearily.
She stood up from the dressing table and looked at herself in the full length mirror. She had agonised for hours over what to wear, keen not to encourage Landa's amorous eyes but also aware of not offending him with casual dress. The skirt she had chosen was smart and modest whilst the red blouse allowed the slightest glimpse of her cleavage, hopefully sufficient to satisfy the Colonel's lust without forcing her into further indignities. Satisfied that she looked presentable, Shosanna left her room to await Landa's driver in the cinema lobby.
Marcel was waiting for her, his face taut with tension.
"Please Shosanna" he said, gripping her arms with trembling hands, "don't do it, there must be other ways."
Shosanna tenderly stroked his face as she shook her head.
"You know why I'm doing this" she replied softly, "Landa could destroy us both, I've got to make him happy. And if I gain his trust then we'll finish him forever."
"You mean, murder?" Marcel asked in a bewildered tone.
"I don't know" said Shosanna "let's get tonight over with first."
Before Marcel could reply a smart car drew up outside. Shosanna gave Marcel a reassuring smile. She ached to give him a loving kiss but could not risk it with Landa's driver so close. Marcel looked back at her, his eyes pleading silently.
"I'll be fine" Shosanna whispered, sounded calmer than she felt, "it'll all be worthwhile, I promise you. I love you."
She couldn't bear to look at his hurt face any longer and walked hastily out of the front door to the waiting car. A young man in uniform exited the driver's seat; he bowed smartly to Shosanna and held open the passenger door.
"Good evening, Mademoiselle Mimieux" he said, "I have been instructed by Colonel Landa to take you to le Rouge."
"Le Rouge?" Shosanna said in a stunned tone. Le Rouge was a beautiful and very expensive restaurant on the outskirts of the town. Shosanna had never been there in her life. She and Marcel had walked past it once and laughed happily as they talked about their plans to go there one day in the future when they were rich. Landa was clearly a man of expensive tastes although Shosanna also suspected that his lavish dinner invitation would soon transpire to be part of his seduction plan.
Landa's driver ran an eye over Shosanna's outfit and shifted awkwardly on his feet.
"Forgive me for speaking out of place Mademoiselle" he said, clearly embarrassed, "but I believe the dress standards at Le Rouge require evening attire."
Shosanna looked away, equally embarrassed.
"Just a minute" she muttered, hurrying back into the cinema.
She dashed up to her room; Marcel was nowhere to be seen. She felt secretly relieved as she did not want to have to explain her unexpected arrangements. She frantically pulled her skirt and blouse off and grabbed a beautiful emerald green cocktail dress from her wardrobe which she had never yet had the opportunity to wear. She hurriedly fastened a sparkling necklace which Marcel had given to her on her birthday and swopped her modest shoes for higher heels. Slightly breathless, she looked at herself in the mirror. The dress was fitted all the way down to the knee length hem, accentuating her curvy hips and narrow waist.
She left the room and ran hurriedly down the stairs to the waiting car. The driver gave a tiny discreet nod of approval as she entered the back seat.
Shosanna sat quietly, as the car made its way to the restaurant, her mind wracked with a multitude of emotions. How she was going to cope, sitting opposite Landa for the rest of the evening? Sharing a portion of strudel had been difficult enough, how would she keep up the facade for an entire night? She concentrated firmly on the people she was doing this for; Marcel, her parents, Amos. Her eyes filled with tears as she remembered the people Landa had taken from her and her desire to avenge them. Having dinner with Landa was a small sacrifice if it meant punishing him for what he had done. She shuddered involuntarily as her brain reminded her of what else she might have to submit to in order to gain his trust. She wiped her eyes angrily and forced her fears out of her mind. If she had to become Landa's whore then so be it; living with her own body after he had defiled it would be worth everything.
The car pulled up outside the restaurant and Shosanna exited and walked to the entrance. She had never felt so tense or apprehensive in her life.
She entered the restaurant and stood rigid, feeling foolish at not knowing what to do. A tall man in a black suit marched smartly up to her. He smirked slightly as he quickly detected her inexperience.
"Mademoiselle..." he began, before a soft voice behind him interrupted.
"Thank you Pierre, I will take Mademoiselle Mimieux from here."
The waiter stood aside and Shosanna found herself once again standing face to face with Hans Landa. As much as he reviled her, Shosanna could not help but acknowledge how strikingly handsome he looked, his uniform pressed to perfection and his face glowing with a strange gleam on enthusiasm. His eyes widened in ill-disguised satisfaction at her choice of outfit. Shosanna's face glowed unpleasantly hot as she watched his eyes skimming over her entire body.
"My emerald lady" Landa murmured quietly, his eyes meeting Shosanna's as he smiled softly at her. Her dark green dress had clearly being met with his approval.
Landa took Shosanna's hand in his and kissed it gently, his eyes never leaving hers.
"May I say Emmanuel that you look exceptionally beautiful tonight?" Landa said.
Shosanna nodded shyly; her throat seemed to have seized up tightly and words would not come out. Looking slightly bemused at his silent companion, Landa led Shosanna to a secluded table, standing until she sat down first. He gave a tiny nod to a nearby waiter who leapt forward instantly, filling both glasses with champagne. Landa took his glass in his hand and raised it.
"Your good health Emmanuel" he said smoothly, "and let's drink to a pleasant evening in good company."
Shosanna smiled politely and drank deeply, wanting very much to drain the glass and send the numbing alcohol straight to ease her throbbing head. Perhaps the waiter had read her mind for as soon as she set her glass back down on the table she found it being promptly refilled. Landa's bemused smile never left his face as he watched her raise her glass and once again gulp deeply.
"Well Emmanuel", he began conversationally, "I must once again thank you for doing me the honour of being my dinner companion."
"The pleasure is mine, Colonel" Shosanna said, her throat finally relaxing although the voice that came out sounded strangled and alien.
"Please Emmanuel", Landa said, "I think it would be much more appropriate if you were to call me Hans."
Shosanna disliked this informality. She gazed at the Colonel's face as he beamed in expectation. Why was she so unnerved by him? Every expression and every gesture he made seemed to have an undercurrent, an underlying meaning which Shosanna could not quite grasp. She gave a slightly shuddering breathe as she tried to calm her nerves and picked up her menu.
"Should we order?" she asked shortly.
Shosanna felt dizzy as she finished yet another glass of champagne. She was full and her head buzzed lightly with alcohol. As much as she hated to admit it, Hans Landa was a man blessed with natural charm. He had quickly sensed her lack of experience when it came to expensive dining, making tactful suggestions regarding the menu and politely ignoring the mistakes she made using her cutlery. Now the meal was over Shosanna felt oddly relaxed, still wary of Landa and uncomfortable in his presence, but significantly more at ease. To her relief he had not pressed her to make conversation but had chatted away animatedly about himself and anything which he seemed to think would interest her.
Shosanna watched him closely as he inhaled on his cigarette. How could this polite, charming and - although she hated to admit it - handsome man really be the one who had murdered her family? Over the years she had built Landa up into her mind as a monster; a cruel, sadistic and inhuman being who would surely be utterly repellent. But as she sat opposite him, watching those strikingly alert hazel eyes, she could not help but somehow feel strangely at ease in his company.
Her thoughts were interrupted by Landa.
"Well I suspect I have bored you sufficiently Emmanuel about myself," he said with a little laugh, "now perhaps I can learn more about you."
Shosanna stiffened. She knew the smoothness of the evening had to be too good to be true.
"What do you want to know?" she asked, trying to sound casual and disguise the churning turmoil in her stomach.
"Do you enjoy working in a cinema?"
Shosanna paused; this seemed a very odd question to start with. She looked at Landa's enquiring expression, trying to detect what implications were hidden within his words.
"Yes, I do" she answered, aware of her lack of enthusiasm.
Landa smiled. "That's good," he said as he flamboyantly stubbed out his cigarette, "it's important to enjoy your work."
"You enjoy your work then?" she asked suddenly, a strange buzzing seeming to fill her ears. Her fists clenched involuntarily in anger.
Landa stared clearly and directly into her face.
"Of course I do," he replied, "I love my job."
Shosanna's entire body seemed to flare up with burning anger, the flush of emotion in her face feeling almost painful as it burnt her skin. She tried to breathe calmly but found her rigid throat wouldn't allow it.
"So, the rounding up of the Jews is an enjoyable part of your job then?" she asked in an overly casual tone.
Shosanna knew she was now treading on dangerous territory, and the slightly confused and shrewd expression which had darkened Landa's face told her that his senses had also been heightened by her comment.
Agonising minutes of silence followed as Landa merely watched Shosanna, seemingly weighing up mentally in his head how he was going to answer. She took another gulp of champagne to try and calm her shaking body. Upon seeing her glass empty, Landa swiftly took up the bottle and refilled it, the fizzing sound of the bubbles providing the only break in the heavy silence.
When Landa's words came they were spoken quietly and with careful precision.
"You believe that the killing of Jews is an enjoyable aspect of my job?"
Shosanna looked into his eyes, unable to answer. She had pushed him too far, he would surely now turn on her in anger. Her stomach plummeted as Marcel flashed before her eyes.
To her surprise Landa's face broke into a wide grin. He lit another cigarette and sat back in his chair.
"Let me explain something to you, Emmanuel" he said.
He inhaled on his cigarette, sipped his drink and turned to her with a serious expression on his face.
"Do you know what I do?" Landa asked.
Before she could reply he answered the question.
"I am a detective, Emmanuel" he continued, "I am employed to find people, to hunt them down and pass them over to my superiors. Or my employer as you might call them."
Shosanna could not see where this was going but continued to listen carefully.
He inhaled once again on his cigarette.
"My employers at present require me to round up the Jews for them," he said in a calm, nonchalant voice. "So I therefore do as they require. I have no personal vendetta against the people I find. My pleasures stem solely from how well I do my job."
He smiled with satisfaction, clearly indicating that the matter was fully explained. Shosanna felt bewildered.
"But those people, all those people you..." she stopped herself before she said something dangerous.
"Yes?" he pressed her.
"How can you be so calm when you are talking about people's lives?" she asked, still unable to comprehend his cool attitude.
Landa looked at her inquisitively.
"Tell me Emmanuel," he said, "do you stop screening a film at your cinema if you think the picture is a bad one?"
"But that's..."
"Please Mademoiselle, indulge me, and answer my question."
"No I don't" Shosanna said, her anger ebbing away as confusion began to take hold.
"Precisely." Landa said triumphantly.
There was silence once again as he sipped his drink.
"I have no feelings towards the people I am instructed to find," he continued, "my job dictates that I find those who my superiors wish to label as the enemy. Would I hunt down a German, an American, a British man? I would, Emmanuel, as I am a detective."
He smiled softly at her.
"People call me the Jew Hunter," he said, "but to order the death of a Jew is what my job commands me to do. My job, Emmanuel, nothing more."
Shosanna did not reply, she simply gazed at him whilst his words sank into her mind. She had never considered before how Landa could feel about his actions, she had always regarded him as nothing more than a monster. Her aching head was still swimming with thoughts as Landa gently took her elbow and lead her out of the restaurant. For the first time she did not flinch at his touch.
They didn't speak in the car.
Shosanna felt painfully confused, so many thoughts in her brain that she felt as though her head would crack. He had killed her family, how she possibly feel the tiny stirrings of understanding that she knew were deep inside her mind? He was an evil, malicious bastard! He believed hunting down Jews and tearing their families apart was comparable to the screening of a film!
But still a voice within Shosanna kept reminding her of the facts that her hatred did not want to acknowledge. Landa was a man, ordered like many to do the work of the Nazi regime. Could she possibly accept that this was a reasonable excuse for his behaviour? Shosanna wished that Landa was indeed the monstrous tyrant she had always pictured; trying to hate this charismatic and impeccably mannered man was becoming strangely difficult.
When they arrived at the cinema Landa stepped quickly out of his side, moving around the car to open Shosanna's door. She wondered why the driver had not done this. She glanced quickly through the front window to see the young officer looking purposefully in the opposite direction. Shosanna felt her face flush as she realised he was discreetly trying to give his commanding officer some privacy in order to wish her goodnight.
Landa stood in front on her on the steps of the cinema, his eyes boring into hers. Shosanna felt slightly sick; this was the part of the evening she had been dreading. She forced a picture of Marcel into her mind as she braced herself for the inevitable invasion of Landa's hands. She felt him moving closer. She could feel the heat of his body radiating onto hers and hear his breathing closing in on her face. Her eyes looked through him as she desperately clung to her mental image of Marcel.
Shosanna was abruptly awoken as Landa took her hand in his. With a warm smile and kissed her hand, slightly more tenderly than before.
"Goodnight Emmanuel" he whispered.
Stepping back, Landa tipped his cap politely at her and walked smartly back to his car. With a final dazzling smile he climbed into the back seat and the car started. He was gone.
Shosanna stood watching the car, static in her astonishment. He hadn't even laid a finger on her, and she had been so sure...
Her mind more confused than ever, Shosanna walked slowly to the cinema door. For the first time that night she was no longer thinking of Marcel.