The love of a bandit or an affair with a Gypsy. Valentina Basan

want your parents to see me in this state. I wanted to wait for you and talk. – Help me! Nina cried again and hung on Valya's shoulders.

      – Nina, get ready, let's go in now, wipe your tears if you don't want to report to my mom why you're upset.

      These words magically had an effect on the girl. She straightened up, straightened her hair, dusted off her clothes. She knew that Valya's mother was still that psychologist-psychiatrist. Maria Semyonovna loved to ask, clarify, so to speak, collect information. Maria Semyonovna used to work as a primary school teacher, but the second education of a psychologist did not give her peace of mind. Five years ago, she quit school and now with pleasure and knowledge of the case, she received lost souls in her private office. Valya and her father jokingly called Maria Semenovna a lie detector and a special agent. She frowned for the sake of appearances and made a serious face. But she was actually very pleased.

      While Valya was ringing the doorbell, Nina with an effort pasted a smile on her face.

      – Dad, why don't you ask who, they came in and started taking off their shoes.

      – Hi, Valechka, how's your day? Oh, Nina, good evening, come on in, girls. Valyush, yes, I know that you're ringing the door like that, as if on fire, – joked Nikolai Fedorovich and stomped into the living room in worn-out slippers, that's how the Kotenko family proudly called their only room in the apartment. Since there was nowhere to go, they went to the kitchen. All Valya's friends used to arrange gatherings in the kitchen and knew that this was her room and parents would never unnecessarily disturb young people.

      – We'll eat less – the parents joked. This was Valentina's kingdom, there was a locker with her favorite books, there was an aquarium with fish on the windowsill, and Valya always carried her small laptop with her. Once upon a time, the Kotenko family of three people: Maria Semenovna, Nikolai Fedorovich and ten-year-old Valya moved to noisy and huge Moscow from a small provincial town in southern Russia. It was a terrible 1994, there was no work, a series of economic cuts took place in the city, Valya's father and mother were fired and the family was left without means of livelihood. Maria Semyonovna tried to sell pies on a busy highway that connected neighboring larger cities. Valya helped mom while Dad was working in the garden, so as not to be left without supplies for the winter. So they lasted a year, money was sorely lacking for food, there was nothing to say about clothes and shoes. At a family meeting, it was decided to sell the house and move to Moscow in search of work and a better life. The Kotenko family was very lucky, the buyer turned out to be a Muscovite who had been looking for a good brick house in an ecologically clean area for a long time, but this was not the main reason for a quick purchase without bargaining. The Muscovite, as it turned out later, was a bandit and tried to take his beloved wife, mother and two sons away from criminal squabbles as soon as possible. At the same time, Egor, no matter how strange it may sound, turned out to be not only a decent person, but also a good friend in relation to Valya's family. He instructed his lawyers to help arrange an apartment in the Marino area, called the school principal and effortlessly got Valya's mother a job. It turned out to be more difficult with dad, since the engineering profession was absolutely not in demand in the 90s, so Egor arranged for dad to be an administrator at his restaurant. Dad didn't have it easy at first, but he quickly got used to it, controlled suppliers, monitored waiters for fraud, learned how to make menus for banquets with the head chef and helped throw drunks and rowdies out of the restaurant.

      All the money earned over 10 years, mom and dad changed into hundred-dollar bills and put them in a stash. It was for Valya's apartment. Wise parents decided not to spend money on expanding housing conditions, but to give their daughter, albeit a small, but their own, personal apartment, especially since the daughter, according to her mother, was already marriageable.

      That's how Valya lived in the kitchen for all ten years, waiting for a prince on a white horse who would take her to a one-room apartment given by her parents. Valya was afraid to dream about a prince with his own flat. Where can she, with her gray mouse-like appearance, compete with Moscow beauties. There are not enough princes with apartments, there will not be enough for everyone, Valya for sure.

      The girls went into the kitchen and sat down on a comfortable Ikea sofa.

      – Nina, coffee, tea? Valya asked out of politeness, and herds of wild mustangs were already jumping in her stomach.

      – No, thanks.

      – Well? – Valentina began to lose patience. – If it's difficult for you to start, start with the main thing!

      – Valya, I am pregnant with Ilya's child, – said fourteen-year-old Nina and wept bitterly.

      Chapter 4

      If Nina, from shock and lack of intelligence, did not yet realize the full scale of the tragedy, then Valya, crushed by the news, like a bag of manure, was terrified of the upcoming consequences.

      And while Valya was sitting in a silent stupor, Nina began her story, worthy of the Russian programs "Let them talk" and "Windows".

      It all started from the very first day of Ilya and Nina's acquaintance. Natasha brought her new boyfriend home and enthusiastically described her, as it seemed to her, final and only choice to her mother and sister. Mom, Tatiana Sergeevna, reacted calmly to Ilya, she liked Vadim more, she got used to him and called him practically her son-in-law. But she did not hinder or condemn her daughter's decision to separate from him. Ilya on the first evening was cheerful, sparkling, polite and charming.

      He was far from Ostap Bender, but it was clear to the naked eye that there was something of a crook in him.

      While Natasha and Tatiana Sergeevna were setting a festive dinner in the kitchen in honor of their acquaintance, Ilya went into the small bedroom of the two-room apartment, which served the girls as a bedroom, a nursery, and an office. The room had a comfortable two-story white bed, a desk and a pink sofa. The desk, pathetically forged in walnut, served the girls as a dressing table and a night table at the same time. There was a small make-up mirror on it, several bottles of perfume from popular brands from the famous store, two cosmetic bags (bigger and smaller) and a box with jewelry. Ilya noted with an experienced look that the girls are not spoiled with jewelry, expensive cosmetics and perfumes. Nina was sitting at the table and writing something in a pink notebook.

      – Nina, won't I disturb you? – Ilya quietly entered the room.

      Nina visibly became nervous and blushed. By the bright blush that appeared on his cheeks, it was clear that the teenager was flattered by the attention of a twenty-five-year-old man. Nina looked up from her notebook and smiled:

      – I'm preparing an essay on literature, I need to write my thoughts about Bunin and his "Dark Alleys", although for me it's complete bullshit.

      Nina tried to look cool, modern and express herself accordingly.

      Ilya came closer and sat down on the edge of the sofa. He looked with interest at the girl, who had already begun to turn into an adult woman. She had beautiful skin and bright blue eyes framed by black eyelashes, her hair was more dark brown than light, but still, in general, her face created the image of a young light girl. The figure, not yet collapsible, but having every chance to turn more than one guy's head, was still being formed, as was the feeling of self-confidence at the sight of a male representative. She and Natasha were very similar in their habits and manner of conversation, both calm, not too talkative, even secretive, they talk about such things on their own minds. And if Nina's appearance was bright, then Natasha, the eldest, turned out to be a faded copy. Although the girls had hair of the same color, Natasha often tinted them in lighter tones, and she got gray eyes from her father, less expressive, with the same gray and expressionless eyelashes. Tatiana Sergeevna's husband and the father of Natasha and Nina's sisters was a very good, gentle and kind person. Konstantin Vladimirovich Zotov worked all his life at an enterprise in the Kapotni district, Konstantin Vladimirovich died when Nina was a year old, and Natasha had just started first grade. Tatiana Sergeevna didn't tell the girls much about her father, tried to translate the topic, but she never got married a second time. She worked as a dentist in a public institution, and then moved to a private clinic because of a higher salary, where she remained on a permanent basis. She spoke little about her late husband, but positively. And if you ask the girls what they