Margarita and Luca, book 1

About decoration: it depends on your lifestyle and character. If you like to invite guests and have fun – some bright patches have to be present, if you often come home tired and worn out and mostly lie on the sofa – these bright accessoristica will irritate you, colori moderati will be OK. Or, if you are not that sensitive – just anything modern will be suitable! As for my flat, I love nature so much, that my walls are wooden and various plants are growing and flourishing on the old terrible but spacious window-sills. Recently I’ve been surprised to see one of my flowers grew to a tree with mandarin fruits and one small plant turned out to a big exotic palm tree. I’m envious (in a good way) you are decorating a new house, that’s so exciting and refreshing! I’ve never been able to find time to renovate the decor. Fortunately I can follow your developments!

What picturesque scenery, the photo on the road! You’re so lucky to have true snowy winter, while we still don’t and I miss it a lot.

Concerning my boss, I’ve started working with him even before I entered university. He is the best businessman, a millionaire who’s intelligent in making money, but absolutely disoriented in life and quarrelsome. His children and wife escaped from him long ago. Trips with him stress me because I hate to waste time if I have to complete some task. I’d rather spend time on rest or some nicer things ;) (If you understand what I mean), than quarreling and arguing with somebody, as I have a calm personality and scandals exhaust me. So, instead of finishing work at 7 we finished at 11 or even midnight. I quitted my job several times (those were not haste decisions, as I’m sensible to boredom), but every time my boss with tears promised to change for the better and I finally felt sorry for him and returned. He’s improved his personality, but he’s still slow in understanding simple things and stubborn. Everything should be told 100 times before he gets it.

I believe the end of the year is crazy everywhere…”

Her letter.

“It’s 10 in the morning, sunny! I’m going to pay the final installment for my holiday trip!!! :D What a nice day today!”

His mail

“You must be flying around for such a desired vacation, I’m really happy for you… and for me too: you're becoming close to me, you took the right time as I really needed such good vibrations in the period. This year everything has been happening and I see no light at the end of the tunnel… Is it because 2008 is a leap year?

So when and where do you exactly go? Probably I may hope to receive a postcard....

Here the house is going for the final rush, it seems there's a party during the day for how many people come and leave…

I still have to decide about colors and I'm forcing myself to find the time to go and see some colors, not too bright because I'm sure I would get tired soon but I'll see… I'm thinking also to ask a friend for a drawing on the wall. I got some pictures but prefer to send you some next week if you are still home, when it's also a little cleaner, so you can see before and after. I like how the things are taking form, if you can wait…

In Italy we say that curiosity is a woman. Is it the same in Russia?

(Honestly you cannot imagine how curios I am but I assure you that I'm not a girl!)

Поцелуй на твой левый плечо”

The last phrase truly excited the girl. She imagined him speaking Russian with his hard Italian accent. “But how would he do that?! I bet he’s not even capable of reading Cyrillic!”: she was laughing.

Margot started downloading a file. It was the video, that she’d made the year before, that summer when she’d met Luca. Few months before going to Jamaica, the girl and her husband had spent two weeks at a nice resort on the sea in Turkey. After his adultery. She was still loving him, she wanted him passionately, and hated at the same time. The husband was chasing after two girls from Serbia. The story repeated every trip. The year before during their honeymoon he had been courting two women from Nefteyugansk, north-west of Russia, Siberia. He must have forgotten that he’d just got married.

In the video Margot’d looked emaciated, as she’d been suffering anorexia nervosa. Unbelievably thin waist, almost every bone of her body was visible: you could count her prominent ribs on her back. Legs were skinny and shuddered in convulsions at every brusque movement, but thanks to hard training and lean protein from time to time, there was a trace of muscles, and resilient buttocks protruded, like thirteen year old children have.

That summer storms were in full swing. She skipped along the coast, plunging into the water having seen the tenth wave approaching.

The girl imagined Luca watching her laughing and squealing, having swallowed the water while the sea is stranding her tan body on a colored mattress with a whirl and a rush: “He will feel closer to me”.

She added the letter:

“Ciao, Luca!

I will go to Turkey, Belek. It’s a beautiful place. My parents have never been abroad and I decided to present them with the tour. I hope that will help them to start a new life after everything they’ve been through. We’ll go in January, after New Year’s Eve. Usually the prices fall after the 5th and you can enjoy the best fashionable hotel for a reasonable charge.

This year was not a cinch for me too.

Sometimes happiness and deep frustration overwhelmed me at the same time or changing each other without giving me a minute to take a breath, like those waves.

Although it’s praiseworthy to plan things long in advance, that may also be enjoying being moved this way, as finally U may relax like in the cinema and be curious waiting what’ll happen next…

No, we don’t say in Russia that curiosity is a woman. Nowadays people are so indifferent, only kids are still curious and some men, may be. Women are busy with gluing fake nails and buying stupid things, then discussing these only topics.

Drawing on the wall is a fresh idea. I long to see it, if it takes place. Once my uncle went mad with the same idea and drew the whole flat instead of using wallpaper. Looked kind of cute, but too much. Concerning fade colours: very light pistachio always look elegant and not irritating. I like it fashionable hotels, but could never imagine at somebody’s home. May be also not bad. I’m impatient to see what U’ll decide and the photos”.

His letter.

“It's incredible, I really wish this year to finish as soon as possible… Yesterday I got into a road accident: another car touched my bumper. As it was raining my car started rotating in the street until it stopped crushing into a wall… While whirling trying to hold the car all my life was passing in my mind. I was really lucky having got my knee a bit swollen and some pain in my neck but not too bad, things could have gone worst… You're right when you say "....be courious waiting what will happen.." . I have my fingers crossed and go on. At this point I almost start to laugh, possibly because I'm going mad or perhaps ‘cause my life scenario seems to be written by a comic dramatist…

A good thing among these troubles is that the doctor gave me work exemption for few days. So next week I can assist at the installation of many things inside the house. Finding time is a rare thing, day should be over 30 hours....

How will you celebrate Christmas? Do you like it? For me it's strange because I like it but at the same time it gives me some sadness, don't know exactly where it comes from but I cannot avoid it.

Have you already jumped into the crazy crowd of pre Christmas hustle that runs everywhere like hypnotized? In Italy people at this period seem to become insane, running around without a particular destination…

This year I asked to materialize you here and talk to u looking in the eyes. I've been a good boy?, do you think it will be possible soon?

Ps By the way, what kind of music do you like?”

Her letter.

“What a frightening thing U told me. Please, be careful.

Meanwhile I’ll ask Santa to shorten the year for U, you really need it.

Life is throwing us back and forth! Once I also kissed an airbag .

For me this year was terrible and great, especially the Friday 13th in June, when I became so nervous and exhausted that thought would truly have a heart or brain attack (many relatives died of them). Same day I did important translation for my boss, passed the final exam, defended the thesis, got the diploma, was robbed and found out that my beloved husband had been unfaithful to me. And that was supposed to be the happiest day of my life, as only God knows, what I’ve gone through to graduate from this first-rate university of Nizhny Novgorod studying free of charge.

I never notice when Christmas or other holidays come, ’cause I usually have to keep working. I think I’ve never celebrated Christmas, but would like to. I guess just never had time, unfortunately, always busy at various jobs, that even didn’t finish school. The consequence – must have done my best completing education at one of the “evening schools” in Moscow to be able to enter the university. Always dreamt there were 48 hours in a day. So, I don’t know whether I like this holiday. What I’ve always liked about New Year’s Eve – I could sleep whole night and next morning till late, as nobody works!

How do U usually spend Christmas? New Year? Could you take some photos for me? In Russia everybody gets drunk to death and fall asleep, face in popular salad “Olivier”. I eat, then sleep.

About music: I love Tiziano Ferro, but some of his songs are too romantic for me, depends on the mood… I also enjoy a lot Adriano Chelentano, Eros Ramazzotti, Biagio Antonacci and somebody else whose names I don’t remember. But recently I’ve forbidden myself to listen to music and now add only Spanish lessons into my mp3player, a kind of trap, otherwise I’ll never start speaking the language”

CHAPTER 4

“ Ciao, principessa!

Christmas is a family day, so, everybody gather at our house at a big table, a lot of food, presents… I’m sending you few pics. They are not so sharp but I hope you’ll get the idea, the atmosphere…

One of the ancient grandmas at the table is about a hundred years old? There is my brother with his wife and kids, my mother and father, my aunt and uncle.

The dish is “ravioli”, very popular in Italy. Do you know?

Tonight nothing so special or incredible, dinner at friends house till midnight then who knows?? We do not have any special agenda for the New Year’s Eve, as in my experience the plans never go as you wish… We try to have fun with a good company, for me: more friends – more relaxation… :)

Try this site www.deezer.com, it is all about music of all kind

Поцелуй на твой нос ”

It was the 31st of December.

On waking up she hungrily ate everything that her eyes caught sight of, fixed a cup of coffee, made herself comfortable and opened the mail to thoroughly enjoy it.

The pictures were blurry and must have been taken by a simple hand-held camera. But they were pathetic with all those present-boxes and children impatiently rushing for the gifts; candles by each plate on the long festively laid table; two old grandmothers with rigorously made for the occasion white-haired curves.

Her letter:

“Good morning!

Thanks for the pictures! I’ve enjoyed much! You have a great family! I love the way you celebrate this holy day.

I have already brought a suitcase of presents to my parents and hid a kilogram of Swiss chocolate in the flat? I’ll tell them later;)

I’ve bought a bottle of wine and going to relish it!!!

Happy New Year! ”

Margot turned on the radio and opened the Zinfandel … The adorable fruity flavor influences her taste sensors producing endorphins, thus a smile.

“Селёдка под шубой” was waiting for its turn in the fridge. She called the mom.

CHAPTER 5

January, 19

Two-metre high snowdrifts, three suitcases… The parents-invalids shocked by the situation, standing stiff with fright on the platform at a railway station of Nizhny Novgorod. Mom is after a stroke, the right half of her body is still uncontrollable: the right foot is curved not able to step, the arm is moving wherever it likes, one eye is dead. Her brains confuse things. Recently they’ve been working on crossword puzzles. Father asks: “A bird with a solid beak?” Mother cries out: “A rabbit!!!”

The dad is a former boxer, now suffering Epilepsy and has psychiatric disorders, which has irrevocably changed Margot’s personality, but this story will be mentioned later.

Greta is goggling at them, calming herself down: “I have a life-insurance. They are supposed to transport the body all the way to Russia… In case an epileptic attack happens in the sea and he will choke with water and drown…”

–I wish he wouldn’t spoil our trip by dying… – mom whispers into daughter’s ear.

–Don’t bother, mommy. It’s organized, in case… – the girl kisses mom’s cheek.

Six hours flied: black tea in old-fashioned glasses with holders and cheese-with-meat sandwiches, prepared with love by the caring daughter; old movies on the train TV; dozing.

CHAPTER 6

Moscow. Our girl has thought everything over long in advance: a taxi driver meets the family by the carriage, helps with the luggage and chooses a “sightseeing route” heading towards Sheremetyevo . The traffic is heavy, but parents are not bored: they are childishly staring out of the car windows, eyes expressing curiosity and cautious happiness. Amazing architecture is slowly moving by: the Kremlin, the white high-rise beautiful building on Vorobyovy Hills is Moscow State University named Lomonosov, Hilton Moscow Leningradskaya, embassies; blocks of flats with huge impressive advertisements stuck on high buildings; imperial churches and majestic cathedrals: Nativity Church at Putinki, The Cathedral of the Annunciation, Arhangelsky sobor, Ivan the Great’s Belfry, gothic catholic Church in Presnya, colorful Pokrovsky Sobor on the Red Square is partially visible now…

Parents are totally fascinated by the changes since “perestroika”, when every single thing was grey and identical: buildings, restaurants, clothes, even city plans and street names in Russia were alike in every region. If you felt like dining out, you would know what is on the menu wherever you come: modest dishes, which you could find in any home, tasty but all the same. No variety.

If you desired a different dress, the only way to get it was to sue it yourself, in case you’d managed to “obtain” a piece of fabric in that “uniform” or as school-girls called it “incubator chick” society.

Airport. Parents’ wide-open eyes. Planes. Mountains and seas in the porthole. Daughter is smiling happily seeing that mom is on the top of the world!

CHAPTER 7

Antalya. Extremely bright light, fresh breeze, a conditioned buss welcomes the tourists. The driver kindly lowers the threshold helping mom in.

–Sweetheart, everybody’s so gentle to me… – mom is almost crying remembering attitude to invalids in Russia. When mom takes her daily stroll she’s about to be knocked out by a group of students rushing for a smoke and to get some snacks at the kiosk between lessons. In winter she slipped on the ice and fell down. Nobody gave her a helping hand so she was lying there in the middle of the sidewalk, humiliated, feeling unprotected and helpless, not able to stand up, until some woman eventually raised her. – I will not worry anymore… I like it here! – says mom as tears of happiness are streaming out…

A beautiful hotel on the seashore is like a small town surrounded by Bushy Mediterranean pines and eucalyptus trees. Flourishing vegetation is everywhere.

Turkish buffet is breathtakingly beautiful, abundant. Parents, who haven’t had enough food since “Perestroika”, are in great perplexity. They slowly go by the desks with viands and sit at a small table in the corner. A waiter has already flied to them offering the drinks.

–Go, take the dishes and put there what you like.

Parents got all mushmouthed.

–It’s “all inclusive”… All is already paid.

–Mm… Everything?

–Yes.

–All this food? Can we take whatever?

–Yep! Mom, what would you like? Let’s go see!

Mom takes her stick.

–But I can’t choose…

The first problem is that she can’t realize what is on the plate, the second is – she has never had such a choice in her life.

Father is standing by one of the salvers with meat astounded and immobilized. Albeit daughter hated him with all her heart, a discrepant feeling of content was filling her seeing the man happy.

After breakfast they used to walk in the garden and along the beach. Winter in Turkey is rather mild and the temperature on the coast doesn’t go lower than five degrees Celsius above zero, while the water is about sixteen degrees Celsius in January. They say that Turkey is the only country where in April you can enjoy skiing in the mountains and then go down to have a swim in the Mediterranean sea. May be it’s ok for those who love a refreshing bath: Internet info shows that the sea is only eighteen above zero in the middle of spring there this year.

Anyway, it goes without saying the climate was nicer than Moscow.

January midday sun is warm and lovely. The family is napping on beds on the beach.

CHAPTER 8

Saint Nicholas Cathedral

A mountain road is rising up to the clouds, the sound of hard rain in the ears. Relaxation. Everybody’s staring around: rocks, few abandoned houses and a fell-into-decay hut, where an old couple arranged a souvenir market and toilet for tourists. The toilet was so insanitary that people preferred to use the grass around, while an old German couple decided to endure till the next stop.

Mom and daughter are happy to spend much time together. They go out to buy something and take pictures, rain beating against their faces, they are just laughing in return. Nadezhda is splendoring with a traditional Turkish fez on, Grethen takes few shots with a tall mountain in the background.

Saint Nicholas cathedral is situated in Demre.

The country is sinking in fog and coolness.

– It’s forbidden to trade here!!! Immediately pay the price offered by the seller!!! – screams the guide with a deterrent tone. – Such things are sacred!

Fake-silver icons become obliterated displaying pink copper a year later. Business. Eventually, after having dragged the flock of sheep, oops sorry – the tourists, through the souvenir shops, the guide, a former Russian teacher named Natasha, leads them inside the cathedral, the place where a kind-hearted man Nicholas used to serve sufferers and made great deeds. There is an unpretentious house located few meters lower than the ground level around. They go inside, all is in darkness, only the altar is sprinkled by the beams of the sun rising from behind the clouds and percolating through the narrow windows. The guide brakes the silence and starts talking about Likia – this is the name of the country which was there long ago.

– In the first millennium BC this area was notable for an original culture it had. Later was invaded by Alexander the Great, by the Romans and the Turks, none the less keeping the autonomy, being a part of the Empires. The largest in the antiquity city and the center of Lycia Xanthos was situated on the like named river, originating in the Taurus Mountains.

The land here is fertile: Lycians provided themselves with wine, bread and other products typical of Asia Minor.

Talking about the cultural heritage, which remained from those times, tomb-monuments carved in the rocks were perfectly preserved.

And now about the church itself, which is here in Myra Demre in Turkey. In the fourth century the bishop of the city in ancient times known as Myra was Nicholas. Here he was buried in a marble sarcophagus.

After the death of St. Nicholas a church was built in his honor, but an earthquake reduced it to ruins. Then a basilica was erected here, but it was destroyed, this time by the Arabs.

–Let's go back to Nicholas. You all know, of course, that the prototype of Santa Claus is

Nicholas.

Margarita had no idea that the country with the famous all-inclusive had the Orthodox shrine, and in general was confident that St. Nicholas had been Russian!

– He was born in a wealthy family. In early age the boy believed in the teachings of Christ thanks to his servant. Throughout his life Nikolai was preaching Christianity.

Being a man of good and fair, worked goodness. Prayed for fishermen leaving for the sea … Helped the poor and the sick, loved children.

In the church at Myra in Lycia, here, where we are standing now, to this day services are rarely conducted. Let's put our crosses onto the altar, so that they would embrace the grace of the place.

The tourists laid down their crosses, and as if waiting only for this, a muezzin suddenly began to sing in the mountains thunderously, doing the worshiping service, pronouncing the people’s requests and thoughts to his God. Isn’t it a miracle, to hear a beautiful voice out of nowhere in the fells? That’s the God's blessing.

– Well, that's it? Come on, Greta! – Nadezhda is bustling.

– Hold on, Mom, let me stay here. I calm down among these walls …

Margarita was wandering about the holy place for a long time, admiring the remains of mosaic floors and freschi.

Coming out of the basilica, Margo sees a strange picture: father and mother standing in the center of the dilapidated patio, and there is a flock of cats around them. It is amazing how these animals identified the most sick people from all the crowds of tourists and surrounded them. Cats were purring and rubbing the legs of the two disabled, Father stroked them, Mother had a puzzled smile.

Some "ruffled" woman runs up to

Greta's mother.

– Come on, you have to prostrate yourself in front of the sarcophagus!

Nadia is frightened, but she insists.

– Pray and get well!

Somehow, being held from both sides by hands, with shouts of fear to break a leg, which is tucked clumsily not wanting to get up on one knee, mother finally falls to the ground.

After a hearty lunch there was a sail on the yacht on the schedule.

– You are the first tourists in my memory, which were able to put to sea in January!

Shower is beating with large drops on oilcloth ceiling of a boat resembling a yacht, which is thrown from side to side like a paper boat.

Boris suffers from indigestion after gluttony, clutching a new icon in the pocket. Mom feels good: she

never suffered from stomach problems, her organism "kneads all" as she likes to say, "zero residue left!", whether it was wine, vodka, fatty or sugary foods. An hour later she is hungrily glancing around: “Is there anything delicious to eat?”

CHAPTER 9

Wandering about Antalya

A sweet tour guide talks about the virtues of local seaside life, obedient Russian tourists turn their heads right and left.

Avenue of palm trees behind, and now they have time for shopping. Margo buys parents some accessories, Mom rejoices as a small child would, Boris in the opposite cannot forget how much it cost.

Walking down the street and tasting strong Turkish coffee in tiny cups with cute refined blue paint, the family acquired the idyll. They were joking and laughing, asking passers-by to take pictures of them to imprint these moments in the “paper-memory” forever.

CHAPTER 10

“Ciao, Luca!

We’ve just returned! What a wonderful trip it was! Sending you the pictures!”

In the image from the solar country Margot, Mom and Dad are not able to restrain lips stretched into a smile, on the street lined with palm and orange trees, cafes. In the following photo: a walk by the sea, breakfast at the hotel, and of course, sipping Turkish coffee «Mehmet Efendi», sitting on chic sofas in the lobby with an unbelievable high ceiling.

Luke relishes every shot, marveling the wide range of emotion on the girl's face. "Such a nice and "warm" woman, that makes her even more beautiful,"– the man is falling in love deeper and deeper.

“Principessa!

I see that you’ve pleased your family greatly! You are amazing…”

The Italian could not take his eyes off

the radiant smile and blonde long hair.

She is in a black blouse and trousers with inserts of lace along the legs. Luke involuntarily begins to look for the straps of her panties, absence of which strikes his body and brain into confusion: "Everything seems to be ideal for me in this Russian. Compassion merges with sex, beauty with naturalness. She understands and knows everything: when and exactly what I want, listens and hears. I have been dreaming of such a woman all my life … What a pity I didn’t meet her earlier … But we can still