VanCleef & Arpels on the summer night. Nonna Ananieva

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      Later I learnt, that Pete came from a family of very prosperous bankers. He had studied political science at Yale University, and he had come to Tunis to visit an acquaintance of his father, who was the US ambassador. He had stayed by mere chance – for the sake of improving his health and in order to overcome some traumatic experience of his own. He was living for his soul and was paying for it: life is never a fairytale, whether you’re living in Manhattan or in Sokolniky. He had studied Arabic at some time in his childhood, in Jordan, where his family had lived for about three years. There he was, the oldest son of a billionaire, and he was interested in me. He was the kind of man you dreamt about! But I didn’t think of him in this way. Anyway, we were afraid of our supervisors. And he certainly was one of their chief targets, making me a target by association. You couldn’t get off without show downs, which was exactly what happened next.

      – Do you really think, my dear, that we will let you flirt with Americans? – Comrade Alabyan asked me, having called me to his office on the first floor of our Embassy.

      I felt dizzy, as though I were on the carousel in Gorky park.

      – He will try to hire you, and as soon as you come to your senses, you will jump off the cliff near the walls of Carthage. You are not only a fool, but you are also ready to endanger all of your relatives.

      I saw black dots. His dumb-witted speech registered in waves in my mind, like Ayvazovsky’s pictures.

      – Well, tell me, then. I’m not joking. – He made a strict and haughty face which made my tongue feel numb.

      – What should I tell you, Alexander Eduardovich? Are your asking me about Peter Kent? – I whispered.

      – Is there also some John? – asked the secretary of the Party Organization.

      – He studies in our group in Grammar. Alicia is also in the group. She is an American too. Nobody is hiring me, nobody has asked me any suspicious questions, – I said in a horrible, hoarse voice.

      – You should not be making contact! – retorted comrade Alabyan. – This is your final warning! Next time, you will be arrested and flown back to Moscow. You should not even borrow a pen from them! Is that clear? You’d be better to write with your fingers! The less you hang about at the university, the more soundly you can sleep. We’ve spoilt you anyway – you have made a bordello out of your apartment. I should also deal with that other guy of yours, Pekarsky. You have got totally out of hand! Come here!

      – Where? – I stammered, almost fainting.

      – Come here!

      I came up to the table, at which he was sitting.

      – Come nearer!

      My legs were numb, made from foam, plastic, wood – or whatever material they turn to on such occasions. I remember that he unzipped his fly, and then I finally fainted for real.