Islanders. Наталья Андреева

with her. The Tower was new for them. And both the man and the woman were full of expectations.

      "Well, that's terrible weather today, isn't it?" asked the man holding a heavy iron entrance door.

      "Yes. It's very cold." she nodded and came in. And the second lift began to move up.

      Soon near the entrance appeared a girl in skinny jeans and a fashionable short jacket with a hood from which you could see some locks of her hair. At first glance she was about twenty. The girl was nervous pushing her hair in the hood of the jacket but they did not obey. The girl hurried up and her steps were fast. She typed a code impatiently, her fingers trembled and she tried to be calm.

      "It's bad to be late." she repeated to herself pressing the button to call the lift. “It is the law of life: who lives close late more often.”

      The girl was mistaken. First she had come in time. Secondly she was only the fifth. And at last the most beautiful woman came. Oh, who doubted.

      The sixth woman was simply perfect. She looked relaxed. Her chubby short fingers were blue from cold as she had to go from the underground ten minutes on foot in a penetrating wind.

      But nothing to do: she hadn't got the car. She could not at once push the necessary buttons by the frozen fingers and the first combination of numbers had appeared wrong. The door had not opened.

      The woman nervously began to search for the mobile phone then she made two steps back and looked at windows of the tenth floor. "Oh,God! I am late!” she signed and began to hurry. She didn't want to disturb anybody asking a code of the lock and tried once more. Her fingers again ran by buttons. That time the code had been typed correctly and the heavy door opened, the woman flew in and rushed to lifts.

      Suddenly the music burst. The entertaining program began. In a lift the woman looked at the watch.

      “They would forgive me a minute.”

      “It is not necessary to be so nervous." she told herself. "It doesn't mean anything to me. It's not important".

      But she didn't want to be late. Easy come – easy go. She wanted it to be over earlier. Likely it was her last visit to the Tower.

      And at last time had come. Under sounds of a cheerful song at the beginning of nine "Mazda" a car of the red color drove and a magnificent platinum blonde went out. She was one more hope of "The Bay of Pleasure". However the blonde looked at the casino with interest. She would rather go to the casino. Music, champagne, a flying roulette ball, she liked all that.

      The woman shut the door of the car and shook her curls. Then impatiently she went on high heels to the Tower. "Am I late? Well, I think, they will wait! "The Bay of Pleasure still looked at her with hope and the palm tree cheered her up." Bye, so long!" she waved to casino with her hand tightened in a glove and the sound of her high heels was close to the entrance door. She wore the white leather service jacket, the slacks of red color and the high boots decorated with colorful stones. It was hard to know her age, especially in the darkness. She was from twenty five up to forty. She used a lot of make-up. There was a suspicion that unlike the girl who had come there about ten minutes ago that blonde was not natural and her small height was compensated by the height of heels. Her heels were four inches for sure! But what effect!

      Without taking off the red gloves, the woman pushed buttons and at first typed the right code. Her mobile phone rang. She entered the house and only then not worrying at all without vanity had got from a handbag a mobile phone which was calling loudly.

      "Inhabitants"

      The lift took her on the tenth floor. Doors were closed and the woman looked round. The blonde had the poor sight but she did not like glasses. She was sure they would ruin her image. Glasses were in the handbag, just in case. She didn't get them out.

      The light on a staircase usually was very bright. And everyone could guess the woman was over thirty. May be she was close to forty. But she spent much time caring about herself: massage cabinets, the hairdresser, cosmeticians. Yes, she smoked. For a long time and a lot, a pack a day, that's why she was so pale. And the color of her skin seemed ashy because of a tone-cream she had used a lot.

      On the one hand near a window there was a door behind which – a ladder. The door was massive, iron and locked from within. Not to break a rule of fire-prevention safety, the key was into the lock, the door was slightly opened.

      In case of a fire or earthquake it's free for the evacuation. But that fact didn’t trouble the blonde. She was almost disappointed to be there. That was Monday.

      She could use it for entertainments. And there …

      She came to the door separating a section with four apartments, she was late. She looked to the left. There was one more window. And the way came to a balcony. She thought it was the best place to smoke. Well. They would not force her to stay for three hours in a reception and to listen to someone's nonsense!

      She didn't promise to stay for a long time! They should let her out!

      While the blonde was thinking about it, the door opened. The man behind it tried to be kind.

      “Hi.” he said. “We are waiting for you.”

      “I have already said: I am rising.” the blonde answered. She wanted to smoke. She expected to make it in the street before entering the house but she was late for a meeting and she was in a hurry. Now she felt irritation. “No, that's not good!”

      The blonde looked at the man who had opened the door for her. He was tall, thin, with a strange sharp sight. His sight was as sharp as the Tower with its sharp corners.

      The blonde felt nervous. The man didn't seem pleasant.

      “I want to smoke.” she said.

      “Will you come in first?” he offered politely.

      “Is there a place to smoke? Can I smoke there?” the blonde didn't stop speaking.

      “We shall solve it.” promised the man. “Have you come to do that?”

      “Well, in general.”

      She came in and her platinum hair moved after her like a cloud. Suddenly she stopped.

      The corridor with four doors was deep and dark. The lamps didn't lighten it well. It smelt the fresh paint. It was a mess everywhere around as the repairing works were not over.

      The blonde looked at wooden ladders, a basket of paint, brushes and on a floor there were tools and another basket full of paint. One wall was half painted. There and then, at the door laid bricks in a pile.

      “What is it?” the blonde asked blinking. She was afraid of dust.

      “Repairing works.” indifferently said the man. “Have you ever seen it before?”

      “I saw, but …”

      “Something confuses you?”

      “No. Absolutely not! May I smoke here?”

      “Later. Please, wait. First I should introduce you to our guests. Perhaps, they will not be against if you smoke in a reception. We should ask about it. I know, not only you smoke.”

      “I hope you haven't got more bad habits.” the blonde smiled.

      “That's another question.” and the man widely opened the door before the last guest. “Please, come in.”

      She had come frightening. But then she cheered up. The corridor shone and seemed different. Repairing had been finished recently and all around, walls and the floor and furniture were neat and pleased an eye.

      The blonde looked around. The hall was decorated with taste. Re-planning was available. Initially it was the two-roomed apartment but the wall was removed and she stood in the middle of the huge hall. Near the entrance door there was a leather sofa, deep armchairs and a coffee table. The conditioning was unusual.

      At the window there was a desk with a computer on it, two phones and a fax. The chair had been moved up closely, the monitor was off, as the phones. It was the beginning to nine.

      The working day of the secretary was over.

      The