Коралина / Coraline. Нил Гейман

shall I do?” repeated Coraline.

      “Draw something,” Her mother passed her a sheet of paper and a ballpoint pen.

      Coraline tried drawing the mist. After ten minutes of drawing she still had a white sheet of paper with

      written on it in one corner in slightly wiggly letters. She grunted and passed it to her mother.

      “Mm. Very modern, dear,” said Coralineʼs mother.

      Coraline crept into the drawing room and tried to open the old door in the corner. It was locked once more. She supposed her mother must have locked it again. She shrugged.

      Coraline went to see her father.

      He had his back to the door as he typed. “Go away,” he said cheerfully as she walked in.

      “Iʼm bored,” she said.

      “Learn how to tap-dance,” he suggested, without turning around.

      Coraline shook her head. “Why donʼt you play with me?” she asked.

      “Busy,” he said. “Working,” he added. He still hadnʼt turned around to look at her. “Why donʼt you go and bother Miss Spink and Miss Forcible?”

      Coraline put on her coat and pulled up her hood and went out of the house. She went downstairs. She rang the door of Miss Spink and Miss Forcibleʼs flat. Coraline could hear a frenzied woofing as the Scottie dogs ran out into the hall. After a while Miss Spink opened the door.

      “Oh, itʼs you, Caroline,” she said. “Angus, Hamish, Bruce, down now, luvvies. Itʼs only Caroline. Come in, dear. Would you like a cup of tea?”

      The flat smelled of furniture polish and dogs.

      “Yes, please,” said Coraline. Miss Spink led her into a dusty little room, which she called the parlor. On the walls were black-and-white photographs of pretty women, and theater programs in frames. Miss Forcible was sitting in one of the armchairs, knitting hard[6].

      They poured Coraline a cup of tea in a little pink bone china cup, with a saucer. They gave her a dry Garibaldi biscuit to go with it.

      Miss Forcible looked at Miss Spink, picked up her knitting, and took a deep breath. “Anyway, April. As I was saying: you still have to admit, thereʼs life in the old dog yet.”

      “Miriam, dear, neither of us is as young as we were.”

      “Madame Arcati,” replied Miss Forcible. “The nurse in Romeo. Lady Bracknell. Character parts. They canʼt retire you from the stage.”

      “Now, Miriam, we agreed,” said Miss Spink. Coraline wondered if theyʼd forgotten she was there. They werenʼt making much sense; she decided they were having an argument as old and comfortable as an armchair, the kind of argument that no one ever really wins or loses but which can go on forever, if both parties are willing.

      She sipped her tea.

      “Iʼll read the leaves, if you want,” said Miss Spink to Coraline.

      “Sorry?” said Coraline.

      “The tea leaves, dear. Iʼll read your future.”

      Coraline passed Miss Spink her cup. Miss Spink peered shortsightedly at the black tea leaves in the bottom. She pursed her lips.

      “You know, Caroline,” she said, after a while, “you are in terrible danger.”

      Miss Forcible snorted, and put down her knitting. “Donʼt be silly, April. Stop scaring the girl. Your eyes are going. Pass me that cup, child.”

      Coraline carried the cup over to Miss Forcible. Miss Forcible looked into it carefully, shook her head, and looked into it again.

      “Oh dear,” she said. “You were right, April. She is in danger.”

      “See, Miriam,” said Miss Spink triumphantly. “My eyes are as good as they ever were . . .”

      “What am I in danger from?” asked Coraline.

      Misses Spink and Forcible stared at her blankly. “It didnʼt say,” said Miss Spink. “Tea leaves arenʼt reliable for that kind of thing. Not really. Theyʼre good for general, but not for specifics.”

      “What should I do then?” asked Coraline, who was slightly alarmed by this.

      “Donʼt wear green in your dressing room,” suggested Miss Spink.

      “Or mention the Scottish play,” added Miss Forcible.

      Coraline wondered why so few of the adults she had met made any sense. She sometimes wondered who they thought they were talking to.

      “And be very, very careful,” said Miss Spink. She got up from the armchair and went over to the fireplace. On the mantelpiece was a small jar, and Miss Spink took off the top of the jar and began to pull things out of it. There was a tiny china duck, a thimble, a strange little brass coin, two paper clips and a stone with a hole in it.

      She passed Coraline the stone with a hole in it.

      “Whatʼs it for?” asked Coraline. The hole went all the way through the middle of the stone. She held it up to the window and looked through it.

      “It might help,” said Miss Spink. “Theyʼre good for bad things, sometimes.”

      Coraline put on her coat, said good-bye to Misses Spink and Forcible and to the dogs, and went outside.

      The mist hung like blindness around the house. She walked slowly to the stairs up to her familyʼs flat, and then stopped and looked around.

      In the mist, it was a ghost-world. In danger? thought Coraline to herself. It sounded exciting. It didnʼt sound like a bad thing. Not really.

      Coraline went back upstairs, her fist closed tightly around her new stone.

      III

      The next day the sun shone, and Coralineʼs mother took her into the nearest large town to buy clothes for school. They dropped her father off at the railway station. He was going into London for the day to see some people.

      Coraline waved him good-bye.

      They went to the department store to buy the school clothes.

      Coraline saw some Day-Glo green gloves she liked a lot. Her mother refused to buy them for her, preferring instead to buy white socks, navy blue school underpants, four gray blouses, and a dark gray skirt.

      “But Mum, everybody at schoolʼs got gray blouses and everything. Nobodyʼs got green gloves. I could be the only one.”

      Her mother ignored her; she was talking to the shop assistant. They were talking about which kind of sweater to get for Coraline, and were agreeing that the best thing to do would be to get one that was embarrassingly large and baggy, in the hopes that one day she might grow into it.

      Coraline wandered off and looked at a display of Wellington boots shaped like frogs and ducks and rabbits.

      Then she wandered back.

      “Coraline? Oh, there you are. Where on earth were you?”

      “I was kidnapped by aliens,” said Coraline. “They came down from outer space with ray guns, but I fooled them by wearing a wig and laughing in a foreign accent, and I escaped.”

      “Yes, dear. Now, I think you could do with some more hair clips, donʼt you?”

      “No.”

      “Well, letʼs say half a dozen, to be on the safe side,” said her mother.

      Coraline didnʼt say anything.

      In the car on the way back home, Coraline said, “Whatʼs in the empty flat?”

      “I donʼt know. Nothing, I expect. It probably looks like our flat before we moved in. Empty rooms.”

      “Do

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knitting hard – увлеченно вязала