Imprint of Heart. Illumination with love. Elena Speranskaya

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ to kiss him, and she could hardly restrain herself. They walked home together, admiring the illuminations in the factory territory.

      “Shall I escort you?” he asked Lucy in the wardrobe room, giving her a cloak.

      “You will,” she answered shortly. “You look beautiful. Has you a haircut?”

      “Is it noticeable?” Alexey answered feeling pleasure.

      In the evening it was cool, and Lucy was wrapped up in a warm scarf. Romanian gloves, she hid in a brown, lacquered handbag in accordance with the color of long boots. Alexey held his hands in the pockets of a bright, English cloak from models of Poul Richard. They walked in silence.

      The fallen leaves rustled beneath their feet, and in some places the ice could be seen. They passed the house a couple of times, came back and again passed by. So they walked until it got dark. They did not want to talk, only exchanged a few significant phrases. Finally, they stopped near the entrance; she looked up at his eyes and said gently:

      “You know, it seems that we became relatives.”

      Alexey bent down and kissed her for the first time on the lips. In the street it was quiet, there were no passers-by, they did not want to part. She came to her senses and said sternly:

      “I have to go. Waiting for you exactly at six.”

      Her heels knocked on the asphalt. He stood a minute and hurried home. Walking in the night city was not very scary.

      “It is a pity that we broke up. I guess she scared, I hope not to death, she ran away so quickly. She will be glad of my presence as it is today, when we will meet at the factory.”

      He decided to walk to the house on foot. Occasionally enamored couples came across him, and he reflected: “Why did Lucya leave me? Maybe she remembered that she had to do something, maybe her father was sick. I did not even interested, did not ask her about father. Any girl would do just that, I’m just an ill-mannered an impertinent person, I do not know how to take care of girls.”

      Alexey remembered childhood. He remembered how his mother had cooked pancakes on Sundays. He ate them with sour cream and jam at once. Jam had flowed on his hands, as he had put more sour cream on one pancake to eat. Mom had scolded him that he had been all messed up, and instead of going to wash his hands, he had wiped them about himself and then began to cry, realizing that he was messing up Sunday clothes.

      She changed his clothes, and Alex was running out into the street, already wearing old trousers and a shirt, where his friends were waiting for him: Sergey who was as blond as he and the red-haired Vovka. They were in even older trousers and shirts, and the three were starting to chase dogs down the street in search of new entertainment.

      At home, Alexey, as usual, had supper alone, cleaned the dishes, carefully wiped off the table and went to bed. November morning was extremely foggy and cold. He did not have desire to prepare for a long time because had everything ready beforehand. The suit and shirt were ironed, the boots were cleaned. He scented with cologne, presented with a bride, put on a cloak and went out.

      It was getting dank. He hurried on. At eight he went to the factory entrance, where the people crowded. The head of the personnel department presented new passes of the delegation from China. Alexey noticed Lucy. Apparently, she came earlier and stood, waiting for him.

      She looked unusually nice in a beautiful, light coat, a fur cap and short, leather boots with heels from Prada. She had a laptop in her hand. Alexey called out. She turned around, went up to him and smiled.

      “How are you feeling on?” she asked mechanically.

      “Fine,” he answered a little hoarsely and asked: “And you?”

      “And I have the best of all. Dad remembered you and said hello. He invited without fail to visit us.”

      “I will. We agreed to meet you today at six. I did not forget.”

      The factory column of employees, hurrying to production, resembled a raging, with different tones, river. Someone was standing and waiting for their friends. There women’s singing voices were hearing. The mood was upbeat.

      Torobov came up to them. He had long been peering Lucy, and she obviously liked him. The three of them went through the turntable and went into their workshop.

      After work, Lucya met Alexey in his workshop, she was worried a little.

      “Are you very tired?” he asked when they were about to go to a stop.

      “Yes, I am. I would like to sit somewhere to rest,” she sighed heavily.

      “Let’s go to my place. I live not far from here, ten minutes walk.”

      “With pleasure. I do not mind.”

      “Well, we need to buy something. Would you like some beer?” he joked.

      They went to the nearest market and bought an ordinary set of food for dinner, starting with sausages and potatoes and ending with butter.

      Alexey lived in a nine-story house on the sixth floor, in a one-room apartment. The room was small but cozy. Furnishings: a sofa, a desk, two chairs, two bookshelves, an armchair.

      A reproduction of Picasso painting “Dove” hung on the wall, a carpet of light brown color palette lay on the floor. The whole room was decorated in brown tones – curtains on the windows and upholstery of the furniture. Alexey had a lot of books. They lay everywhere: on the desk, on the floor, on the windowsill. It was noticeable that reading in his life played a major role, mainly folios of technical content: for steel, metals, machine tools and automation. Fiction: adventures, detectives and military memoirs.

      “Lucy, do you want some tea?” Alexey asked when she went into the room.

      “Of course I want. I’m cold, I need to warm up a little, and something is getting colder in the street. Probably this year, early snow will fall.”

      “Do you know that, I have soup and fried potatoes with sausage, let’s have a good lunch? Let’s go to the kitchen,” he suggested enthusiastically.

      She followed him to an unusually clean and cozy kitchen. It smelled delicious. The furniture was white with various appliances, a powerful refrigerator, and an air cleaner from Fiore and a dishwasher.

      “Alexey, I’ll help you,” she said, cooking the stove, masterfully, putting the kettle on the burner, a pan of soup and a frying pan with potatoes. He had placed plates, cut some bread.

      “I like cooking,” she said in a flash. “When our group was sent for cleaning work, I was a cook. I cooked for the whole brigade with my girlfriend. The guys were pleased, even the flowers were presented to us. She gave to read, a copy of her poems ‘Illumination with Love’ and then gifted it.”

      After the meal they did not want to go anywhere, Alexey turned on the TV. They gave a concert with the participation of popular artists. Lucy sat in a chair, relaxed for a moment, turned off the sound, a reality show began, which could be watched without sound. Alex was cleaning in the kitchen. He returned with a bottle of red wine and poured a bit into crystal stemware standing on the table in the middle. СКАЧАТЬ