“World War I was the underlying cause of the Bolshevik Revolution. Discuss”.

History has never been my strong point to put it mildly! I guess that its more complicated than the question suggests. Besides the war,the “great man” theory of history must have played a part. Surely old Vladimir Lenin’s powerful personality must have influenced the overthrow of the Tsarist regime. I mean it stands to reason, doesn’t it?

If it wasn’t for all my partying I’d probably be better able to answer that damn question. Any excuse for a party and you can bet your bottom dollar, I’ll be there.

“Hi Stan, mum and dad are away for the weekend, fancy coming over tonight?”

I was sitting on my bed, Ipad in hand willing myself to tackle that bloody history assignment when that text from Pete arrived. Sod Tsar Nicholas II and the Communists. It was nearly 100 years ago, what the hells it got to do with the here and now. I’ve only recently turned 18, for christ’s sake I’ve better things to do than bury myself in dusty old books, I’m off to Pete’s place.

—

She’s really something. That long black hair and long, toned bare legs reaching right up to her armpits.

“Hi I’m Stan, you’re gorgeous. Has anyone ever told you that?” Shit what a corney chat up line. If I where her I’d tell me to go and screw myself. What a prat you are Stan. You haven’t got a bloody clue how to chat to the ladies!

“Hi, I’m Ilana” she says in slightly accented English, fixing me with those dark eyes of her’s.

“Has anyone ever told you how sexy you sound Ilana?” If I didn’t blow it the first time I opened my big mouth then I’ve sure as hell made a prize idiot of myself this time. Any moment now she’ll adopt that look of withering contempt women’s faces take on whenever I’ve uttered a few sentences.

“Thanks, you’re a sweet guy. My family’s from Hungary. I came here as a little girl but I’ve still got a slight accent”.

“Really, didn’t the Soviets invade Hungary in the 1950’s?”

“Yes, in 1956. Its known as the Hungarian Uprising. My parents are from an ancient Magyar family, aristocrats in fact. When the Soviet tanks rolled in they managed to flee to the UK”.

Wow perhaps she can help me with my essay and, even if she can’t I just want to spend as much time as possible chatting to this gorgeous girl. “Do you know much about the Bolshevik Revolution?”

She throws back her head and laughs, her perfect white teeth glinting in the candlelight (Pete’s always had a thing for candles, he says it makes the atmosphere more intimate).

Stan” she says entwining her fingers in mine) history is my passion. Since the birth of civilisation my people have been persecuted and killed. The Hungarian puppitt government was just one manifestation of the suffering inflicted on my race. So, yes I know all about the Bolshevik Revolution and it’s effects on my people”.

“Do you think you could help me with an essay on the causes of the Revolution? I need to hand it in on Monday morning”.

“Sure”.

“How about tomorrow, at, say 1 pm?” I say knowing full well that my parents will be visiting friends on Saturday and won’t return until Sunday evening.

“I’m not a daytime girl. I party all night and sleep late into the day” she says squeezing my hand. Thrills of anticipation shoot through me. “I’ll be with you just as the moon rises which (she says consulting her mobile) will be a little after 9”.

—

“Hello Stan” she says, looking absolutely stunning in a very short red dress which leaves little to the imagination.

“Hi Ilana. Come in” I say trying not to blush.

“Thank you”. Her Hungarian accent, barely imperceptible yesterday, seems much more pronounced this evening. Perhaps it’s the lack of loud music which makes me notice such things.

We walk through into the lounge.

“Would you like a drink?”

“No, just sit next to me” she says patting the sofa.

I plop down next to her. “Stan you are a very handsome man” she says her blood red lips parting in a smile to reveal those amazingly white teeth. So perfect. Sharp little daggers of enamel glistening under the overhead light. I draw back involuntarily.

“Stan, I thought you liked me, is something wrong?” she says her delicate tongue moistening those ruby lips.

“No its just that” I trail off my eyes fixed on those needle sharp little teeth.

“It’s a privilege experienced by very few men to enjoy the intense pleasure of one such as I” she says her mouth inches away from mine. She leans in softly taking my face in her hands. Her lips so soft on my neck. Feather like kisses sending waves of delight through me. A sharp scratch like a needle when one gives blood. She laps greedily as a cat drinks milk. I am giddy with fear and desire.