VanCleef & Arpels on the summer night. Nonna Ananieva
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Название: VanCleef & Arpels on the summer night

Автор: Nonna Ananieva

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Жанр: Повести

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isbn: 978-5-00071-026-5

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СКАЧАТЬ spoke to Americans at the Institute. It was prohibited to talk to anyone, as you remember.

      – You’ll make fun of me for this, but I met up Pete from our Grammar group later on.

      – Where did you see him? In the States?

      – We met in Kyoto. And later on, in New York. By the way, he’s in jewelry business, just like you.

      – You don’t say?! Fat old Pete! In the jewelry business! Jesus Christ, that’s incredible! – I almost choked on my berries.

      – He even asked about you a couple of times, – Sergey continued calmly.

      – And what did he ask about?

      – Well, about practically everything…

      – Are you joking?! – This was the last thing I expected to hear – And what did you tell him about me?

      – I told him that I didn’t know anything. They sent me abroad “to establish friendly relations” after I had graduated from the University. You married some guy again…

      – Yes, that’s the only news worth telling about a woman, – I retorted.

      And then I remembered. Once, in the winter after the New Year, Filimonich and I, Peter and Alicia (another American from our group), had opted to go to the city market (the locals called it “suk”). Sergey invited Ilya to go with him, for safety’s sake. We met at one of the entrances to these endless labyrinths of Arabian folk craftwork mixed Indian, Turkish and Italian styles, as well as some other odds and ends. As far as I remember we had been assigned to write a composition entitled ‘My perception of the City of Tunis’ or something like that, and we decided to use this chance to stroll to the market. We agreed with the Americans that we would pretend to have met by chance – and in that case, why should we flee from each other as if we were hounds of ideology? The story also went that we had likewise met Pekarsky all of a sudden, while he was choosing a little handicraft carpet for himself, depicting a white house against a blue background, and a clay plate with a similar design. All of us, young, turbulent and eager as we were, craved normal communication, chat about the USA and the USSR – we liked to ask one another tricky questions and to argue over which country was worse to live in. Alicia was no fool – she was an active career woman, dreaming of becoming a diplomat and setting the flag of victory on another peak of American feminism. She didn’t like to have any courtesies addressed to her that might emphasize her femininity. Thus nobody would give their hand to her, nobody would let her walk through a door first, and nobody ever carried her heavy bags. And she liked it this way… Even Pekarsky played her game; when we sat down at a coffee table with one stool too few, he told her: “There’s a vacant stool over there, so go and get it”. Alicia went and fetched it quite obediently. She used to wear unisex clothes, and she didn’t wear make up or nail varnish – but she did pluck her eyebrows. I was definitely not mistaken about that!

      – What does she usually do for personal hygiene during her period? – Pekarsky inquired.

      – You can find out. Make some allusion to your primitive Soviet morals, apologize. And come and tell us what you know. – Filimonich advised him.

      But all the same it was fun to be with Alicia, and Pete was certainly no fool for having befriended her.

      – I’m not sleeping with her, – he was always finding excuses for himself.

      – Well, nobody thinks you are – replied Sergey. – She will have everything her way.

      And Alicia was casting glances at Ilya. She was even helping him to look for his plate with a house on it.

      – Il, – she asked him, – What if there’s a camel near the house, like on this one?

      – Impossible, – replied Pekarsky. – It should be just a white house and a blue sea.

      Without realising it, we had drifted towards the jewellers’ stalls. Everything was bright and shining there, smelling of fragrances. The sellers touted in every language. They had no idea that we could understand Arabic, all five of us. I was looking at the gold necklaces in surprise, as they were so enormous that their weight looked as though it could damage the wearer’s neck vertebrae. And at that point, Pete and I became the focus of attention. It was clear that the others were not on the same wavelength as us.

      First he asked me to try on ring earrings with pendants, and then he chose some coral beads. Oh my God! What wonderful beads they were! It can happen like that at the market, when everything has become just a general mess of sparkles and multicolor, when your legs feel tired, when you do not want anything because you’ve almost stopped seeing the things around you – you are overwhelmed by something magnificently beautiful!

      – Pete, how did you know to choose these beads? – I exclaimed.

      – I’ve been aware of things like that since my childhood, Sophie. You know, my mother would take me to boutiques all over the world with her, starting from when I was six. I have seen a lot of things. You can find wonderful red corals here in Tunis, and at a very reasonable price. Look at the mirror! – He turned the mirror to me. – Now pull up your hair, in this way. Alicia won’t listen to me. Your neck… You have got an ideal neck for the necklace. And little ears, too.

      For a split second my imagination transported me, an ordinary Soviet girl, who had never seen any decent shop in her life and never been to a Western country, to some mythical shop decorated with pink velour, mahogany and crystal. Then I thought of Adriano Celentano and Anthony Quinn in the “Bluff: storia di truffe e di imbroglioni” movie. Yes, that was it. In that movie they were swindling someone at the jewelry shop. What was it called? ‘Van Cleef and…’ something…

      – Do you watch European movies, Pete? – Overwhelmed, I just wanted to get on with the conversation.

      – Sometimes I do. My mother’s of Italian origin, you know.

      – Oh really? – I was surprised. It was impossible to think of him as half Italian. Or so I’d thought till then. At that moment, I looked at him with new eyes. He was a little bit plump on the plump side. But his face was pleasant, and he was well dressed. He was wearing some medallion on a black string. I had seen it earlier but not really given it much thought.

      – What are you doing here? I’ve been looking for you everywhere, – Sergey, coming into the shop, was happy to see us.

      – Have you found the damned still life for Pekarsky? – I changed the topic.

      – You should ask Alicia about that. I lost you all. I’ve had enough shopping. It’s high time we went to write that composition.

      We did not go into any of the other shops in the market after that. Everybody was tired, so we said good-bye to one another and went home.

      If you understand the status quo of the eighties, you will know that ours were no harmless pranks. The things we did on that day could have resulted in highly undesirable consequences. All of us could receive reprimands from the representatives of the Komsomol organization, and Pekarsky could receive a reprimand from the representatives of the Soviet Communist Party. They could even prevent us from traveling abroad. It was really dangerous to enter into direct contact with Americans. But nobody informed any officials about our movements. The three of us began to trust one another more, and naturally we didn’t stick to the rules. Especially because my compatriots were mostly reluctant to go to the Institute, and obviously СКАЧАТЬ