Destiny's Puppets. Henri Mallet

The car was now driving along the water-warn earth road. It stopped in front of a sturdy five-walled house with a newly covered iron roof.

      “Oh, Stanislav, I don’t even know how to thank you.”

      “You know, honey, you really know.”

      “But I…”

      “Yes, you are tired and wet through.”

      “That’s not quite the matter. I…”

      “Let’s go to my place. I live alone now.”

      A thoughtful sparkle lit the girl’s eyes, “what if I spend this night with him? Not a big deal. Mom still does not know that I have come back.”

      Stanislav took silence for consent and, after another hundred meters drove «Volga» into the yard of his apartment building.

      The guy went to the kitchen, but before that he had switched on the record player in the drawing room. Creaking and lisping, the old foxtrot “Champagne Splashes” flowed along the timber-scented walls, clean starched curtains and stole under the tablecloth. The record was turning a bit unevenly, reproducing a wonderful tune. Nelly listened attentively, a smile appeared in the corners of her lips and she even began humming the tune. “Ta-ta-ta, ta-ta, ta-ta-ta…”

      All her trouble seemed gone, she calmed down, and even her devils craving for revenge to Victor had quieted down. The way he had behaved when he had learnt about his dismissal had really insulted her, and his actions today insulted her even more. But now a big feeling was creeping inside, and it was more important than her grievance. She did not know what this feeling meant, or even what it was, but she was excited to find out.

      Stanislav poured some wine into a glass. He put a plate with ham and cheese and a box of chocolates on the table. Nelly had a quick drink. Guy poured her another glass and then another one. She ate up the food on the plate, reached for the chocolate, but then changed her mind. Nelly put her cold hands on top of his massive shoulders and pulled the guy to herself.

      “One, two, three… One, two, three…”

      The light steps of her bare feet did not coincide with his heavy ones. Stanislav kissed her on the temple clumsily, drew a lock of her wet hair aside and touched her neck with his lips.

      “Stanislav, your kisses and wine make me dizzy.”

      “Which means that we should lie down.”

      “Oh!”

      “It’s high time you took off your wet dress.”

      The music inspired passion in Nelly’s troubled heart. She allowed Stanislav’s warm strong hands to undress her, inviting the careful kisses of rough lips. She lowered her eyelids in languor. He started slowly, very slowly: soft touches, caresses, strokes. When Nelly had lost control and was totally relaxed, Stanislav changed his tactics. Now his tempo was insane, frantic, all-consuming and Nelly began moaning loudly.

      “Whore! Scumbag!” wild screams drowned out the sounds of music and the loud ringing of broken glass.

      Stanislav turned Nelly on her stomach, lifted her over the bed, squeezing her excited body with huge paws and only increased the pace of movement of her powerful hips.

      “Whore! Viper! You…with him! Whore!” Victor tried to squeeze through the broken window opening.

      Stanislav was smiling blissfully and, as if nothing had even happened, sat up on the bed and stared at his childhood friend who was stuck in the window opening and was cut with glass shards.

      12

      On the day of Gleb and Tatiana’s wedding nearly all the actors of the theatre-studio "Youth" assembled in the big Burdins’ apartment on Gorky street in the center of Moscow. The young people moved together the tables, covered them with a huge table-cloth and placed the plates with snacks and salads on it. There were not enough chairs for all the guests and they had to be borrowed from the neighbors. Somebody put on the record on the turntable to create the festive atmosphere.

      One, two, put on your shoes,

      Aren’t you ashamed that you are asleep?

      Funny, lovely, cute Enka

      Is inviting us to dance…

      Cheerful music spread loudly through the apartment and flew out through the open window onto a Moscow street.

      The street became too narrow for us soon,

      We woke up the whole city

      The moon in the skies was ardently dancing

      Enka with us till the morning.

      Smartly dressed young people loudly sang a familiar, popular song, and some danced to the beat. The girls were swinging their heads with fashionable updos and were trying to decide who had a fuller skirt. The guys were sporting insanely tapered pipe trousers.

      At last the newly-weds and their escort appeared in the doorway. There was universal applause and congratulations. Roshin’s plain silk white dress fit her poorly and she looked a bit at a loss. At the same time, her wavy hair, big eloquent eyes and the blush on her plump cheeks was a very pleasant bonus to the bride’s image. Gleb made a display of his elegant suite, tightly fitting his tall figure. A strip of red socks, which were all the rage, could be seen above his shoes. His blue eyes had a look of worry and fatigue. His aristocratic posture and pleasant mannerisms completed the image of a real fairytale bridegroom prince. All the girls at the party agreed that he was irresistible and some of them were truly jealous that Svetlov was not single any more.