«Åñëè òû äîñòàíåøüñÿ ìíå» Áåííàíè Èðåí, 2020 ãîä.
Author's translation
Roman "If I Get You"
Bennani Irene, 2020.
Chapter first
World poetry day
“A good location, you buy a ticket for the tenth carriage and you find yourself in the middle of the platform, - at that moment it seemed to Lyudmila that everything was decided, intuitively feeling doubts at that moment.
Is it like a wet watercolor sketch that is not yet complete - is it a conscious decision or just a long-standing unquenchable thirst for a change in the environment, social circle or a sharp turn in life? - the question flashed through her head, but all these thoughts suddenly flew away along with the coolness from the spring wind and the approaching train. - Somehow it is especially cold. People scurried about in disarray, a voice on the radio announcing the arrival of a train.
“Why did she decide to go to Moscow when the train was already picking up speed? This is not some kind of castling, not a momentary impulse, not just a desire to be in time for a poetic day - for Lyudmila this was not a spontaneous decision. "
2015 was the Year of Literature, and for modern authors this year is of great importance, for whose intelligent environment Lyudmila was striving.
She watches the blinking lights of the station in the stained-glass windows of the carriage, the bustle of passengers during the trip in the carriage, not believing in what is happening to her: “reality seems to be a kind of flight of fantasy, the other side of the coin” if you compare its sides with life. What is this striving for creativity?
At the same time, it means: to cross out your entire personal life and, along with it, all your sexual aspirations and needs - is this possible, ..., to close this side of life? "
A day passed, the fast train arrived in Moscow at the Kazansky railway station. On the platform, she looked around, the tireless voice of the announcer was continuously broadcasting, trains, electric trains in continuous motion approached the platforms and left the platform - as if the life of the capital was going according to a clear schedule. When a mature man with a cultured appearance went to her; not just a mature man, but twenty-five years older than her.
We stopped at the ticket offices, the train car was left behind, in front of a long platform and the station complex, soon her train started, disappearing into the distance.
Now they were talking with him about something, passing by small advertising stands and a kiosk, it seemed to her: "That this is happening not with her, but with someone else."
They are in the taxi cab and she is on the road again, following to his house, or rather to the apartment of a stranger for her, for whom she "had" nothing but sympathy. And this, despite the fact that they were next to each other in the back seat of the taxi, there was a distance inside each and Lyudmila did not feel his warmth.
In the cabin, the heated air became stuffy, it is not so easy to feel with him in this stuffy atmosphere from the smells soaring after a hangover, as it was before: it is completely abnormal, to perceive your presence in this tension hanging over them, - she turned to the driver to open the window slightly.
- Volodya, what's wrong with your car? Why did you call a taxi?
- No, yesterday I was "corporate" at the Research Institute, - his language, pronouncing the words, intertwined, gradually apologizing, he looked at Lyudmila, his face took on a crimson hue, - he did not want to take risks, being with the remnants of alcohol in his blood, his words did not contradict his actions - his alcoholic smell dissolved in the air of the car interior. "
- Do I have champagne and red caviar or would you like to dine in a restaurant?
Glancing at her friend and at that moment, noticing how light red spots appeared on his face, she thought with dislike - “how to appear with him in this form, whether he is allergic or not,“ pressure ”- that means she needs to decide that to do in this case? - she asked, - and you?
He scratched his chin with a long "pincer", it is clear that the allergy bothered him, apparently thought what to tell her, how to get out of the situation, knowing that he would not go anywhere.
The driver turned the steering wheel and drove towards Komsomolskaya Square, having driven more than a kilometer, turning at the exit towards the Third Ring - "here they are - open spaces for creativity and for the flight of dreams!" – she admired. Looking out the windows, being in a car that was moving in the direction of one of the lanes of the carriageway, rushed along the road, bypassing the rings of the bridge, contemplating the line of the Moscow Ring Road from a height, continuing to move quickly forward.
- My head is splitting a little, it would be better ... to take cognac. In addition, there is a dog in the apartment, she is waiting for us; daughter and son-in-law in London asked to look after her.
“Okay, then next time we will have dinner at a restaurant, and today, after the road, we will spend this evening at home, if he forgot about his age difference, and if you are going to play the role of a womanizer, then all the rules must be followed. ... "
- Turn in the direction of the military town, please, first slow down at the corner at the pharmacy, - indicating the direction to the taxi driver, Vladimir grabbed Lyudmila by the shoulders, lightly hugging her.
“Yes, that’s how he was waiting for me, leaving for the evening with his colleagues, so he is clearly not able to play his role of such a daring hero lover today,” flashed through her mind.
However, he waited ..., “judging by the table setting; a bottle of wine, sandwiches with caviar, fruits on a platter, with flowers, roses, rather, Dutch. "
Hearing footsteps, the lapdog jumped off the sofa, barking, rushed to meet them, instinctively sniffing at her beneficent woman, who took a piece of cheese and fed her, forgetting about dry food.
- Well, let's get acquainted, Malta?
“Make yourself comfortable and be the mistress here,” he gestured to the rooms, tying a dog with a wagging tail and fluffy curly hair to a leash, it looked like a snow-white ball that passed a woman along with a man and they disappeared through the door when Vladimir took the dog for a walk.
In the morning, when the hands of the clock approached ten, Vladimir Arnoldovich was in a cozy living room, the style of the interior was closer to the design of the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, mahogany furniture went well with burgundy wallpaper. with a slight splash of gilding.
A man sitting on a soft sofa, over whose head a picture of a naval battle hung, was visible to Lyudmila, who, watching him in the opening of the inner arch, stood in the corridor by a long mirror. ...
she neatly pinned her long hair into shape. She could see how he reached for the receiver, for the telephone lying by the window, took it in his hand, dialed someone's number, there were beeps ..., he waited, the pause did not last long, and soon through the speakerphone one could clearly hear: - Alo, alo, I'm listening.
- Hi, Volodya, how are you? - he asked, then explained, - Do you know about the events of the day?
- I wonder, - he pulled, - what event? - he asked, - in impatience, speak.
And after a short pause, straight to the point - does it mean that Luda has arrived?
Vladimir Arnoldovich broke into a wide smile, laughed, leaning back against the back of the sofa and stretching out his legs, he first started talking about Ale, asking his colleague what she was doing, and only then, getting to the heart of the matter, he said:
- Yes, here, I invite you, of course, and Alevtina to the solemn ceremony of presenting the national awards "Poet of the Year" and "Writer of the Year" at the Government House with the tickets of the participants, which Lyudmila provided for us.
World Poetry Day - the awarding ceremony took place on March 21, 2015, when Lyudmila was hurrying to Novy Arbat in the company of three people, two scientists and the mistress of one of the men.
It was cold near the Barrikadnaya metro station, a strong wind was blowing, the spring dampness penetrated through, Lyudmila followed Vladimir and his colleague with a friend, then they headed along the avenue, soon crossed the intersection, a massive white building appeared in front.
The square near the Government House was crowded, there were gathered in front of the entrance; writers and guests from all over Russia, they all languished in a long queue, waiting in the wings, approaching the front doors. Patiently passing through the arch, where the inspectors examined them, the guests of the evening, one after another, showing their invitations to the administrator, gradually seeped inside.
In the foyer in front of the entrance to the conference rooms, a "motley" audience was walking in impatient anticipation, people were fussing, they were going up from the first floor to the second, then, going down, at the closed doors, a reading competition was held, organized for poets, this astonished Lyudmila: “How boldly under the microphone, and so confidently, freely they recite” - she could not imagine that she was able to read at least a couple of phrases in front of such a large audience.
All these people continued to bustle back and forth, passing by those gathered on an impromptu stage, stopping briefly at the circle of readers and several members of the jury. United in small groups, they "stared" around, like the whole company that came with Lyudmila.
The opening of "Posing Day" was a little delayed and now, finally ... the doors of the conference room are open, the guests rushed into the space of the hall, rushed forward, took all the chairs without name plates. The large conference room was filled with audiences, poets, writer candidates and invited guests sitting in folding seats, but there was not enough room for everyone, there were many more visitors than expected.
Sitting in the middle row, sitting comfortably on one of the reclining chairs with soft red upholstery, Lyudmila sat down and took out her binoculars, hoping to get a good look at the participants in the ceremony that had not yet begun. Waiting for the moment when the curtain will rise and ... when celebrities, poets, playwrights, editors of famous magazines, newspapers, all these members of the jury will finally enter the stage ... she held her breath.
And just at this time, Volodya's colleague decided to entertain the whole company a little, took out his phone and began to show his photographs, which show how he and Alevtina are picking mushrooms. All mushrooms in each frame had the shape of phalluses by their main character. "Who would have thought ... an unusual person - took the time to demonstrate this?"
Lyudmila furtively examined him; a face with expressive features that betrayed his willfulness, or rather the eccentricity of nature: this is evidenced by a nose with a noticeable hump and a slight bulge of lips: “He is a sociable person, but it is not easy to communicate with him. He is not an ordinary person, but with pretensions. Naturally, these antics should be expected from him. "
She recalled the day when she was first introduced to him on the tennis court in Chemitka, where “Volodya, introducing Lyudmila to a colleague, spoke of her as a niece, and this idea at least angered her.
- How can I call you?
- Yes, exactly as you call it.
- And ... what does that mean ... Vovka is a small carrot? - with irony Lyudmila hinted.
- It is possible without
small carrots, - having penetrated into him and continued to play word games with him, while the other players were waiting for his serve, a spark flashed in his eyes, and he laughed.
Near the shady park, on the courts where they played tennis, it was quite hot, there was a badminton field nearby, where Lyudmila and a friend began to pass the shuttlecock to each other. The players of the neighboring field, including Vladimir's namesake, slowed down the pace of the game, trying to play along with the women in badminton and at the same time throw tennis balls.
By noon, on an open area covered with fine sand, it was unbearably scorching, Lyudmila and her friend hurried home from the tennis courts, waving their hand, as a sign of goodbye, proceeded upward, where Alena was under the shade of the pines, reading a newspaper.
They exchanged short general phrases, talked with a woman sitting on a bench.
; about the weather, nature and waterfalls nearby, leaving her there, Lyudmila and her friend climbed the steps leading to the beginning of the trail to the old building.
Before them appeared a long lawn with palm trees growing on it, similar to those grown in greenhouses with a spreading hard crown, feathery leaves emanating from the tops of the trunks. Sysoev caught up with them at this huge flower bed with Mexican palms.
- That's how, and you tried to catch up with us for a long time, - he smiled and, without answering, kept silent as usual.
Nevertheless, after this easy acquaintance, a meeting in the sports complex, an invitation from a colleague of Vladimir followed: to the dacha, to a barbecue.
It is strange that right now, at this moment in the large conference hall of the Moscow Government, Lyudmila remembered the day when she and her friend were sitting in the courtyard of the dacha, where, in addition to Sysoev and Vladimir, Alevtina was. And also a married couple, their tennis partners, were sitting at a long table.
Nothing special seemed to be happening. If only a small disagreement between Lyudmila and Alya regarding the place, and after toasts with raising glasses, with homemade wine, and barbecues toasted over a fire, it was suggested “to continue the evening with night swims”.
Below the dacha, located on the slope of the mountain, through the crowns of figs, cherry-plums, plums with alluring ripeness of their fruits, the islands of the sea were visible. It was getting dark, the sun began to slowly approach the horizon, when Lyudmila and her friend left their hospitable hosts ... And then she again remembered the end of that evening:
“They said goodbye to the owner, who wanted to accompany them to the small bus on this route. A minute of waiting at the bus stop and it became noticeable as the bus taxied out from the next turn, quickly closed the distance, approaching. Sysoev's friend, who was standing nearby, suddenly jumped on Lyudmila and, quickly hugging her torso, in an attempt to bring his lips closer to her face.
Instantly slipping out of the embrace, she rushed to the doors, which opened on the move, the minibus drove up, slowing down on the side of the road, Lyudmila was followed by her friend.
- He pressed his lips, like some kind of vampire, can you imagine, - she complained to her friend, - he pressed against my neck.
- And not only snuggled up to you ... "
So, in the meeting room of the Government, where they all gathered, except for Elena, who remained there, in the southern town for some reason, she remembered «Chemitka», with a funny situation in Chemitka, details of that acquaintance.
Her gaze moved to Alya, who was sitting further, through one armchair, in an elegant dress with a stand-up collar, with dark brown hair gathered in a high hairstyle, but at the back, part of the hair ... were lower, closer to the back of the head.
Much of the neck, despite the stand-up collar, was bared, and a round ball of hair was held together by black hairpins; her hairstyle, once worn by oriental geisha, lacked only a long hair clip with a tiny fan at the end or paper flowers
And suddenly Lyudmila caught herself thinking about what she imagines in her fantasies, how Alevtina's intimate meetings with Vladimir take place. Asking himself at the same time: “How can she be with him, perhaps he is an overly demanding person with a constant claim to excessive personal attention to him.
Maybe he is so tireless in bed, why can she be so patient with him? And at the same time, Lyudmila was confused by this frank sexually preoccupied philosophy; photo session of mushroom pickers, although the rest of their company perceived these shots as something normal, fortunately, it darkened in the hall, the sounds of the melody announcing the opening of the evening intensified and the concert began:
The winners of the "Poet of the Year" and "People's Poet" awards, as well as the winners of the All-Russian Poetry Competition "Golden Microphone" performed. Then the winners of the national literary prize "Poet of the Year" for 2014 were announced, awards "Writer of the Year" were presented in various nominations and spheres, and books were presented.
By the end of the evening, Lyudmila and the whole company decided to continue celebrating the International Day of Happiness and the Year of Literature, it was decided - in any restaurant. It seemed to Lyudmila: “This is it; another reality is coming, here and now in the capital its expectations will be justified, with a person who understands it, it will probably now be possible to completely immerse oneself in literature, in the spiritual life of the capital; to meet poets and writers, when she can devote all her time to literature. "
When leaving the metro, it smelled fresh, the cold from the frosty Moscow air permeated her. On the sidewalks, covered with a thin layer of snow, there were particles of exhaust gases mixed with fine drizzling snowflakes of a dirty gray color. Lyudmila closed the edges of her clothes tighter, now she, like a migratory bird, felt that the cold was gradually penetrating through and through: “Probably, I can get used to…, such a contrast. "
Sysoev grabbed her hand and dragged her to the parked car, then, bypassing the slippery slush underfoot, seven meters from the metro, the company got into the car of their colleague Vladimir, and then all of them, sitting in a warm, comfortable car, all agreed with the proposal Alevtina go to a restaurant to celebrate this event.
Approaching the restaurant hall, without explaining to anyone, Sysoev disappeared in front of everyone, dived around the corner of the restaurant and soon appeared. He, with a detached look, stood in a long cloak that covered his thin figure, a couple of meters from the whole company. He seemed to turn his back on everyone, resembling a man immersed in his own affairs. And when the whole friendly company approached him, it became noticeable how quickly he finished his cognac.
- How long have you been with him? - asked a colleague of Vladimir.
- Practically - yes, “interesting; did he not know, or just now noticed? Or is it an attempt to present him in the best light ”, - Lyudmila did not understand such a question, how could he not know everything about his close friend.
Entering a small foyer, handing over their raincoats and coats to the dressing room, the company headed to the hall. They sat in one of the booths of the Georgian restaurant, closer to the window. Soon the waiter served them a menu of their choice. Lyudmila wanted a little "Kindzmarauri". The others ordered meat snacks, barbecue and preferred vodka and juices in a decanter and for some reason decided to try sturgeon too. The melody poured from the depths of the hall, but there were no dancers among the visitors, probably they, too, recently entered.
- This poetry day is a wonderful occasion, in connection with which we have gathered! - Alya proclaimed, confidently holding herself like the hostess of this celebration, taking a glass of white wine with two fingers by the stem of the glass, and holding the lower part with the rest of her fingers.
Ludmila's observant gaze noticed how skillfully and at the same time imperceptibly she controlled her beloved, creating the impression that she was playing the role of a second violin, all the time being in his shadow, and how skillfully she created the illusion of invisible control. above it, without standing out from the general background.
- Yes, - stretching out the words, he, sitting at the table opposite her, gazed intently at Lyudmila in a black trouser suit, emphasizing her slenderness. Hair were collected high in the tail. It seemed that together with the shade of hair, contrasting with the color of the suit, they merged into a single harmony with an independent image, emphasizing freedom-lovingness.
- Poetry, prose, these wonderful people are writers. Continuing his "speech" colleague Vladimir. Imposingly leaning back a little, to the back of the chair, he asked: - Lyudmila, do you understand which path you have chosen?
“In what sense?” She only decided to clarify the wording of the question, but, ahead of her, he said:
- What do you crave, popularity, big fees?
- Or would you prefer world fame over money?
- In my opinion, - grinning at this childish provocative curiosity, Lyudmila straightened the hairpins in the "tail", turning to him, hesitating with the answer, first fixing her gaze on the flickering lights of the dark hall, she thought; "How is this to be understood, there was a hint of the path of the kept woman, and then maneuvered in the direction of literature?" - and, looking straight into the eyes of this cunning, financially successful person, she said: - for this she exists, one complements the other.
- M ... m ..., - quiet sounds were heard, - snorted pretty drunk - Vladimir, who was sitting next to Lyudmila. Then he decided to joke on Lyudmila - I saw it on the menu, - he continued with disgusting irony in his voice, - reading: "Children's room with an animator" - downstairs, under the arrow on the left on the lower floor, a nursery. There are games of colored balls, in the room.
- Do you want to go down? When she spoke to him, with obvious irony.
"Oh, Merlot ... on the menu?" - objected the enemy, blushing from excessive alcohol consumption. Lyudmila looked at him: “Probably, he is approaching the peak, having drunk alcohol, which, however, did not deprive him of the opportunity to watch his colleague's game, fragmentary comments supplemented by opinions. Yes ... but, unlike his colleagues, it is noticeable that Sysoev properly prepared for the celebration, using the degrees of cognac, being in a state of some turbidity even before entering; and in confirmation of her thoughts, Vladimir's face turned red, his gaze became blurry, and his behavior seemed somewhat fussy ... although the others did not take a sip of alcohol.
What ridiculous phrases does he allow himself? Considers me some kind of naive baby? Well, yes ... we must not forget that I am the same age as his daughter. "
“Yes, take Pasternak and his Doctor Zhivago, ostensibly ignoring or reasonably ignoring the attacks of his colleague Sysoev,” he reasoned, “it was worth going abroad to gain recognition at home.
“What a versatile person he is, this Vladimir and as an interesting interlocutor, unlike Sysoev, who was silent like a fish, and let transparent bubbles only into the pot-bellied avkarium of his glass,” thought Lyudmila. Glancing furtively at the aquiline bend of the nose, turning his gaze into the expressively blue eyes, he noticed the athletic figure of this colleague Vladimir Arnoldovich.
“A person who does not hide behind an age facade and does not go beyond those limits, he is modern, leads an active life, maintains excellent shape, is athletic and with a flexible mind,
and this is noticeable; does not degrade with age ”.
And, as it were, after reading her thought, he suggested:
- How do you look at the proposal to dance? - a spark flashed in his eyes, shrouded in mystery.
Winking at him, she agreed, looking back at the seated, judging by the expressions on the faces of Ali and Sysoev, those present did not mind. At the moment when everyone returned to the table and another toast was made to the intelligentsia, the environment, the production of talents, when they were approached by an unfamiliar woman of average height, perhaps a Yakut, aged under sixty.
- Can I invite your friend? - trying to drown out the music, in a cheeky manner usual for this type of woman, leaning towards the table, she turned to Lyudmila.
“His business,” Lyudmila just threw up her hands, “like a gentleman ... this one wants,” her gaze fell on a standing dark blue dress of bright colors and thought: “Where did she get this dress? - Seen from the store - I'll give it to second hand, - and. .., - noticing his lily smile, her answer sounded something like this, you two have to figure it out, but without me.
His colleague watched the situation with interest, especially when his lanky colleague, his silhouette contained the features of old age and resembled the dry trunk of one of the tall trees, with his back constantly bent and, despite the fact that at times leaned forward, Not a single dance in a row with him, accompanied by a restless dance partner. Soon, from the depths of the hall, the words of the dancing couple began to reach Lyudmila and everyone who sat with her at the table - Sysoeva and Yakut, or it is possible that she was a woman of Korean nationality, her external data corresponded to her eastern origin. The dancers, talking to each other, shouting over the sounds of melodies, did not realize that the acoustics of the establishment allows everyone else to clearly hear everything they say: - I remember you from the eighties, since then you have made an impression on me.
This new confession, heard in the company of his colleagues, escaped their lips with a light laugh. But, nevertheless, no one paid attention to them.
Lyudmila liked the cozy atmosphere at this table; the dishes, drinks, contents and design of the dishes - everything is like in a Caucasian feast, seasoned with aromatic sauces and served with red wine.
To the light sound of musical melodies, she listened with pleasure to the performance of a versatile and well-informed colleague Vladimir in the scientific, literary spheres of life, often with Ali's amendments.
The wine warmed up, as did the warm atmosphere of the company - here, in the semi-lighted hall, Lyudmila enjoyed this minute pastime, being in a sincere and friendly atmosphere. The tension that held her from the inside was gone; she was seized by a vague feeling that she did not want to go at all where, behind the icy windows, the street flashed with lights, then glowed, then darkened, passing into flicker.
When the "aging ladies' man" returned to the table and was about to raise his glass, the face of his recent passion arose from the aisle with a constant smile, screaming lips, thickly applied with lipstick, with an ugly expression of a duck:
“You don’t mind,” she began her request, raising her head to the company that was inside the fenced area and sat on either side of a massive dark wooden table heaped with Georgian food and ... ... some drops of wine in each glass, everyone looked at the woman and said: “If I ask him to dance again? - whispered a Yakut woman with painted lips applied along the thin contour of her lips.
- I object, I object, - Vladimir's friend answered with disgust.
Although there was a frank expression of amazement in Lyudmila's eyes, she chose to remain silent, observing the development of further events.
“Perhaps it sounded completely impolite, but this statement sounded reasonable and quite appropriate when someone from the company“ turned in the wrong direction, especially since it is quite natural when people get annoyed at the sight of unpleasant faces, ”especially when eating "...
“And the incident is really entertaining,” she glanced furtively at Sysoev’s colleague, “yes, Vladimir is wayward, he does not hide his interest, giving a heartfelt look, but what about Alevtina? Does she tolerate such obvious attention from her man to me, or does she take it for granted?
Probably a colleague of Vladimir, he guessed that Lyudmila was not touched by the attempts of the "disco dancer", to inflame jealousy in her, - she smiled at her own thoughts, feeling herself in an excellent mood, even if we take into account, an internal disgust for this hero - a lover, lurking in depth.
Mentally rejecting this clown, she was very tired of his presence, this jester - Sysoev, who so entertained the few restaurant guests. “She got up from the table and plunged into the rhythm of fast melodies, into a dance in which no one limited her freedom of movement.
It was getting dark, along the dimly lit streets of the Moscow region, Volodya's colleague took the whole company home, first to Ale, who lives nearby, and then to Vladimir and Lyudmila, accompanying her every movement with a long glance, in these melting minutes, it seemed that he would burn her back with a glance, as if everything repeated, as then they first met on the courts.
In the morning, frowning and somehow unnaturally, running his eyes from under his thick eyebrows, with a feigned smile on his thin lips, wishing Lyudmila, who was still dozing in bed, a pleasant day, he headed towards the kitchen, drinking strong coffee Vladimir in front of departure to the research institute.
Lyudmila woke up much later, having previously watched a number of TV programs, went to the kitchen, took yoghurts, oranges and juice there, returned to the room and, holding all this on a bright iron tray, opened the door from the room that leads to the balcony.
She lay down on the sofa that served as a bed, crawled under the covers, tucking the edges under her, and began a light breakfast. She was in no hurry, it didn't make sense; her everyday life was similar, all of them, as if drawn on a copy, like twins, resembled each other.
"What's the point," reasoned Lyudmila, "I could sit among the walls and at home, I'm not here to sit at home with Sysoev in the evenings, that's not why I decided to leave for the capital?" And only this thought occurred to her, she quickly got dressed, deciding to go somewhere - to be in the center, to take a walk in Moscow museums, and if it turns out that cultural events are taking place in the Central House of Writers, then it is worth going to the poetry center on Nikitskaya.
“Am I really with him in order to lead an animal lifestyle, because, apart from joint dinners, during which I see from his side only an excuse in conversation that he is allegedly interested in creativity and literature, but in fact he does not show at all interest in my creative plans, if we talk about the purpose of my trip to Moscow. - When Vladimir returned, they, as usual, went to buy food in one of the stores, that's all.
My life in a literary environment, evenings in poetry circles, as it turned out, did not bother him. He launched a new song about the need to help the family of his daughter, Camilla, who lives in cottage houses, and due to the four-room apartment she recently inherited from him, she makes a lot of profit by renting out this area.
In addition, unforeseen circumstances that arose through his fault began to interfere with my plans - a person on whom I now cannot count, and all these literary
plans, the opportunity to write, as a missed opportunity, unfortunately, becomes more ghostly for me, like melting snow. “If I can put it that way, they become ephemeral,” she grieved.
A realization came to her - this is all a deception of expectations, the situation in which she found herself turned back all ideas, all her plans, dreams - destroying hopes, global plans.
“Yes… the situation is gradually becoming unstable; One of the two apartments, where Sysoev invited, was on the outskirts, in Lyubertsy, the other, of four rooms located closer to the center, became the property of his daughter, in fact, a similar situation is not far off. And now, instead of a marriage proposal, he sounded to me:
"I want you, Lyudmila, to be here with me." “Click on my nose? - But no, not for me, but in fact for him, he drives himself into a trap, into addiction. The scientist, of course, would think that now is the best time to think about everything while he rubs a chair at his research institute, but has he overestimated his personality by speaking of his own importance?
Where is the border, to what devilish edge he will reach, in the end ... not me, but he himself must think about everything, why should I worry about him, because he is an adult uncle, in the end
, he will see the result at the end. “The indignation rose higher and higher, as in an overflowing glass, filled and overflowing, this indignation that gripped her, caused not that irritation, but rather dislike with disgust.
The fact that Lyubertsy was divided into two parts, the Moscow region and the urban area of the capital, over time it became clear that they could not compare with the center - real Moscow, now this disappointment constantly permeated her consciousness. And this was confirmed only by looking at the unremarkable living quarters surrounding the houses, which she looked at from the height of the balcony from the ninth floor.
"Did I really have to move to the capital for this? She asked herself this question, and this thought was constantly spinning in her head, not giving rest. Hopes for creativity were dying, what should be done to live by writing and generally move in the literary community, living the way ... as I dreamed of? "- the call brought her out of her reverie:
- Hello niece, Glafira said that you can be congratulated on the New Year and changes in your life! - accepting congratulations on the phone, she thought: “This is it - this is a humiliating double bottom, to tell that there is nothing to be especially proud of? It means; admit that I'm here with some kind of "daddy?"
Present yourself in the most stupid and unfavorable light? Having spoken about this man who decided to get real benefit from life with a provincial woman who gave up all her plans, life and even more from her ambitions? ".
- Thank you, Happy New 2016, I really can't vouch for any special changes and I don't know how long I will stay with him, with this person, - frankly making it clear that there is nothing to congratulate her on. “But overall, things are going well. I like life in the capital, recently I had a chance to attend one of the premieres in the Moscow City Council, in Moscow now is the month of museums, I enjoy the cultural life of the capital.
Just at that moment it dawned on her - “Where did it lead me, or rather, and it's good that all the circumstances are against it, otherwise it could have happened - bam, bam ... you are a married lady. “Today, waking up in the morning, the veil suddenly flew from my eyes, a nightmare ... where I am with some relic, with a person who is not friendly with his head.
Living with this means depriving yourself of interest in life, and what to expect from a person of this age, on the right path to madness, yes, you can continue to harm only yourself, depriving yourself of the joys of life. In fact, having moved - actually, not to him, but to the parade ground, an abstract cemetery of life, where feasts and glasses of toast are appropriate - about well-being and health, but in fact - about burial.
"Why not go to the suburbs?" - Vladimir announced from the threshold, opening the door with the keys, and appearing in the doorway.
"I do not understand what you're saying?" Lyudmila answered with a question from the corridor, watching as Sysoev, with his withered fingers, with an effort took off his obviously pressing shoes. “Well, he’s saving up everything, yesterday he was in old leaking shoes, and today he was wearing something from the“ deposits ”. Probably, he thinks that clothes should not serve him, but that he lives for clothes, and probably he was going to live for three hundred years, no less. "
- Lucel, on the way home, - he shouted at the entrance, - I looked into the store, which is almost on the road, then he continued, - there,
I was sold a bottle of wine "from under the counter" - as a regular customer! - he said with radiant joy in his voice.
- Congratulations.
Sysoev went further into the kitchen, went through the bathroom, washed his hands over the sink, fell on the sofa, stretching out his long legs - a little tired.
- Listen, Liesel, - then he said: - I bought a present, I think we'll need it for tomorrow, I'll give it to the hero of the day.
- A little ... For such an event? Anniversary!
- Yes, the family is renting a house on Rublevka - they have been living there for the second year, at first, having arrived from Azerbaijan, they rented “mine”: “What apartment we are talking about, that one. what belongs to Camilla? “- Of course, they paid for her rent.
- In the former of four rooms? - touching on the topic, hinting to him with slight irony that this apartment is no longer his property.
- Yes, they have little space, they have adults and small children, and the youngest is a year old. Let's talk later, ”he added,“ I’d eat something, I’m hungry as hell. ” “Give me the corkscrew, I'll open the bottle. - “It is clear that he doesn’t skimp on Camilla, as they say: “ everything is for “his children,” “but the point is, now you should not go back to the past ... to what was long ago? "
- Okay, - Lyudmila went to the sideboard and began to put the dishes on the table, but before putting the glasses, turning to Sysoev, she clarified whether to put a small glass for brandy for him? “Most likely, under the floor of his coat there is a small bottle of cognac or a bottle with a capacity of 250 milligrams.
And it was at this time that she so wanted the evening with him to end faster and the morning came. These ridiculous dinners in an incomprehensible family, what kind of family can we talk about? Where is she, the family - there is no family, there are no feelings between people, but only all this fuss, with different disparate thoughts.