Nikolay had always been very careful with the objects. Accurate, he said. Hence the objects' obedience to his fingers, their complete submissiveness. The way my body served him, accuracy for accuracy, just like a contract, Magda smiled maliciously, took a drink, and realized that she had understood something important. Something about her, about him, about her husband, her daughter. All that remained was that it should be formulated, not now, of course. Not here!
She left the house in a hurry, almost running down the steps; Nikolay didn't even move a bit.
She got back home and put the banknotes in the dressing-case.
She locked herself in the bedroom and started to wait. She heard Polly's sneaking steps - in and out of her room, and then the latter went into the sitting room. She heard her laughter…Emilian's voice… Tommy's loud footfalls…
They had dinner at eight, as usual, the TV was on.
At one moment Magda was sweating with fear, at another she got furious. She was asking herself if it was possible that Polly would throw a copy of the picture on the table and suggest: “Why don't you have a look? Look here, brother! Pa, isn't mummy cute?”
Polly was up to it.
Magda looked like one in fever and did not try to conceal it.
She looked up and met Emilian eyes. He was watching her carefully and fixedly through his thick glasses.
“You don't look well” he said slightly worried. It sounded like a question and a statement at the same time. It was typical of him - he didn't express himself fully.
“It's true” she admitted quietly. “It'll pass.”
It was as if they said something else, enough only for him to understand. He only slightly nodded. They had been living like this for years.
“Nothing's wrong with her!” Polly said rudely, all of a sudden.
Emilian looked at her in surprise first, then with disapproval. Tommy laughed. Magda all but gave a sob - was it possible that Tommy knew as well?!
Interesting though, sleep snatched her the moment she went to bed.
On the next day Magda waited for Polly outside the school.
“I am at your disposal, ma'am! I gather, you are waiting for me!” the other one's voice startled her.
Polly had gone not from the main entrance but from some place aside.
“Yes, yes!” Marta nodded helplessly. She tried to catch her daughter hand in hand. A long forgotten gesture, now surfacing unexpectedly. Polly guessed right and drew back abruptly, then giggled. The passing girls and boys turned to look at them.
“Let's sit down somewhere… to talk” Magda whispered breathlessly.
“Got it. Lemme get you to a hole” Polly said and then started at her mother. The shoe was on the other foot.
Polly, as usual, in her jeans and loose sweater and dirty trainers, was taking wide strides, in a bossy manner, while Magda, in her long skirt and high-heels, was tripping next to her daughter, barely able to follow her. We are sure a funny sight to see, said the mother.
Thanks God, Polly stopped and pointed at a nondescript little entrance, above which there was a small sign: “Bar: Hope”. The café was comfortable, though a little dirty, but there was not a soul in and it was somehow ominously hopeless. They sat in the corner.
“A whiskey for mummy, two bottles of beer for me!” Polly cried to the bartender, who had stuck out his head, and served them immediately.
Magda did not take long to halve the glass and after she lit cigarette, she plucked up courage and asked:
“Why?”
“Why what, mum?” Polly looked at her innocently and raised the bottle.
“Why what, is that all you have to say?” Magda was amazed.
“Take it easy!” Polly said and took another drink from the bottle.
“Do you hate me?” asked the mother.
Polly started laughing. Like a child she slapped her thighs, too tightly squeezed in her jeans. Magda started looking around in a confused way - the bartender started to giggle and send them kisses. Startled, the mother turned her look away.
“Why are you making such a fuss about it?”
Polly squashed the cigarette box. It was empty.
Magda wanted to offer her one of her cigarettes, but Polly pushed her hand away.
“Hit me with a packet, you - know - what, dude!” she cried out to the bartender. He stretched out a hand, picked up a box from the rack and threw it to her. Polly caught it dexterously, lit a cigarette and put her leg up on the next chair. She turned her eyes to Magda.
“Fuck whoever you want. Big deal!”
“What about the money? You have blackmailed me!” Magda stubbed out the half-smoked cigarette in the ashtray.
“What about the money?! I needed it. Big deal! 500 bucks! Listen, what you 're talking about?” she spread her fingers indignantly.
“Why did you need it, Polly?”
Magda felt stupid. Just like an old and boring teacher. It was late, though.
“What's that got to do with you?! Don't you have your buddy?! Polly snapped. “The same again, dude, come on, move it!” She told the bartender.
“Listen…” Magda caressed her hand.
“Don't you touch me” Polly moved aside.
“Why?” Magda asked confused. “I'm your mother.”
“Nope” Polly pulled aside once more. “You are a woman!”
She uttered it with unfeigned hatred, desperately, it sounded like a call.
The bartender came up to them and dumped the bottles of whiskey and beer. He didn't go away, though, but was looking at them with curiosity.
“If I have to choose between you, Polly, and your mummy, I'll pick up both of you! He sighed and caressed them both on the heads.
How dare you, Magda wanted to say, but Polly's laughter stopped her.
“Did you pass the exam, you fool?” she put his hand down and slapped it in a friendly way.
“One more time, I was a rocket scientist and I despise myself.” he said languidly and pinched Magda by the neck. “You are cute, ma'am!” Then he lazily shuffled his legs to the counter.
“Doesn't he take it too far?” Magda asked hesitantly and blushed; she realized instantly that it was stupid of her.
“No, why?” Polly seemed amazed. “He behaves like a fool, but he reads for the bar. He keeps the bar, together with a friend of his. He, in his turn, studies sociology. Smart guys.
Magda stared into her daughter's eyes - they obviously were talking at cross-purposes.
When did it happen?
The same thing happened with her mother and herself. They had been meeting for years and didn't have anything to say - they kept silent for hours. It was horrible. Was it happening once again?
“You are a woman. Just a woman” Polly said unexpectedly.
“What do you expect me to be? All mothers are women”, Magda started ardently. “Would I ever have been a mother, if I wasn't a woman? It's simple. I'm sorry to tell you that.”
“Thank you!” smiling ironically, Polly bowed her head down. Then she became curious: “Do you hate Dad?”
She asked quietly, but her tenseness in her expectation was evident in her voice.
“No!” Magda exclaimed. “Not at all. I have always loved him. And…” she hesitated but said: “I still love him. Much deeper, somehow more really. Now I am going to rediscover him... Yes, that's it! Do you know wh...”
Polly was laughing.
The bartender giggled, snapped his fingers and cried out:
“The show must go on, dudes!”
Magda started to look around feverishly, as if she was searching for someone to help her. The bar was completely empty.
"It's true, Polly, I love him. Nikolay and Emilian are very different. It's not true that one man is enough for a woman. You'll find it out. That's the biggest lie in the world1 I'm ashamed to tell you this, but I was the happiest when I managed to be with both of them in one day…” She said this and was quick to realize what she had done. Should she ever have done such an idiotic confession? To her daughter? Was she going nuts?
“Interesting” Polly said. “It means that a man is not enough for any woman.”
“Why not?” Magda asked peevishly. The strange cocktail of whiskey and enormous tension began to have its effect on her. She felt hot waves lifting her up; then she felt brave, even happy. Here she was, sitting quietly with her daughter in this pleasant afternoon and talking about the things in life that really mattered.
“Ok, let's say that I got your point. But!” she leaned towards her mother:
“Would you mind if I check out how matters stand personally? With the guy over there and his buddy?” and she pointed at the bartender, who was playing with the remote control of the TV.
Magda got scared. What was Polly driving at?!
“Oh, no!” Magda said frightened, the girl laughed. Angrily.
“Don't run away, mummy. Nikolay gives you my father can't. The only thing I can't understand is why don't you have the courage to tell Daddy about it? Are you afraid? Is that so?” Polly asked relentlessly.
“Yes, I'm afraid”, the mother admitted. “Your father is capable of anything - killing me, committing suicide.”
That laughter again; it filled the empty bar, and the bartender whistled cheered up.
“You say, Dad can take his life?” Polly asked, laughing.
“Yes! I don't see the anything fumy here? Magda was filled with indignation.
“You are so naïve, mummy! I took the picture you received yesterday from his desk drawer!”
“So, your father knows?!” Magda was horrified and shivered.
“Of course he does”, the girl said in a businesslike manner: “Not only does he know, but he knows that I know!
“Oh, my!” the mother whispered. “So, you learned it from your father, didn't you?!
“You didn't express yourself correctly, mum; I stole it from his desk!” Polly smiled benevolently. He learned about it and asked me, in the morning, to give it back. Yes, but I'm going to give another one back!
“Do you have another picture?” Magda rose alarmed from her chair.
“Here it is”, Polly slowly leaned to one side, and produced from the back pocket of her jeans a picture and placed it before her mother.
Magda tried to take it, but the girl pushed her hand rudely.
“Just look! Don't touch!” the daughter whispered authoritatively.
Magda couldn't believe her eyes - Nikolay and Polly were naked in bed together!
“You?! You?!” she asked, out of breath. She felt dizzy, demented.
“Why not?!” Polly whispered feverishly. “Is it you who can do such things?!”
Magda rose, and staggering, made for the door. She didn't close it, and the noise of the traffic rushed in.
The sharp screech of brakes was heard, someone screamed wildly.
The bartender touched Polly's shoulder and shook her.
“I know”, the girl said.
The bartender went out quickly, came back and sat opposite Polly.
“What did you tell her?”
“Did she die? It was a collage. I just lied to her” Polly said and tore the picture.
The bartender nodded and bowed down his head.
Polly helplessly spread her hands, rose and was about to leave, but she sat down,
instead.
The piercing wail of an ambulance siren was heard outside.
