Morphine the phantom of love

He thought for a minute, possibly recalling all his amorous affairs and then, sitting down he said: ‘There is not one love relationship that does not have its share of fights. How do you know that the tea is sweet if you haven’t tasted bitterness before?’ he said as he caringly offered me the hot cup of tea. ‘Here, warm up.’

‘Thank you.’

His company and our conversation definitely warmed me quickly. He always seemed so glum at the start, but so far I have managed to quickly elicit a smile on his face. And I think that he did not regret taking me on as a student. At least now he had someone to have tea with in the evenings.

‘We should think of a way to reach you, it’s really difficult without a phone. I don’t think I’m ready to send letters with pigeons.’

Finishing my tea, I continued to pester him with my questions for a little while longer, but I was not able to ask him straight out. Perhaps it wasn’t even worth it. When our cups were empty, he offered me some more but I declined. I didn’t want my parents to worry and the phone tucked in my jeans pocket was vibrating from time to time. It was most likely text messages from my boyfriend. But since we had an argument recently, I could afford to switch on the “do not disturb” mode and torment him with my silence.

‘Thank you for the tea and the company, I think I should be going.’

‘You’re welcome,’ he said with a smile and got up first.

Seeing me to the door, he made sure that I did not forget anything and wished me a safe trip home.

I was walking to the tramway stop within easy reach of his house and the pictures that I had seen were going through my head. I did not know what had happened, but judging by everything, he loved this woman deeply. I was hoping that some day he would want to tell me all about her. For now it was none of my business.

The tram finally arrived and I got on number seven that went straight to my house, enjoying the views of Podol at night. Ah, I really didn’t feel like going to school tomorrow… Seeing Vlad again. Remembering Vlad, I took out my mobile phone and I was right – it was his texts that I was receiving during our tea with Vova. I read them all and, without replying, I glued my face to the window, behind which Kyiv in the night was lighting up with a thousand strewn lights.

I took a shower, put on my bathrobe and went back to the armchair by the fireplace. With a gentle hand I closed the box and put it back in its usual place. Then I took the paintings standing nearby and placed them around the studio.

Yes, I could not part with them. I could neither sell them or get rid of them. They could not fit in that same box. Leaving them in clear sight, I was laying bare the feelings Marina and I shared, that lived in these works. And if Gennadiy Vasilevich believes that paintings die with the artist if they are not offered to the world, then so be it, it is not such great loss. I did not consider myself to be particularly talented. Just an ordinary amateur with the feelings of a man still in love. Perhaps the rekindled memories would inspire greater things in me.

Life is about decisions. And my decision is not let her image out of my heart. As long as I can hold her near me, I would know that she is still here, that we are still together.

Chapter 7

'Hi. Why aren’t you at school?'

‘Hi. My classes are over.’

‘I thought that high school students had a tighter schedule.’

‘Don’t be smart! Better tell my why you’re not on Andreevskiy Descent. I went over the stalls twice looking for you.’

‘I’m taking time off.’

‘Time off? Are you planning on going somewhere? Are you thinking of getting away from me?’

‘If it were only possible!’

Valerie laughed and slipped a small box into my hand.

‘Here.’

‘What’s that?’

‘Your new mobile phone. The SIM is already in.’

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

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