Bang bang, beautiful marquise - Kalinina Daria. Bang bang, beautiful marquise! (19 pages) About the book “Bang-bang, beautiful marquise!” Daria Kalinina

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Daria Aleksandrovna Kalinina
Bang bang, beautiful marquise!

Chapter 1

If you diligently prepare for a rainy day, it will definitely come. But for some reason people often forget about this and diligently prepare for something that they want to avoid at all costs.

Being a cheerful person, Vasilisa always looked into the future with optimism. Life was much more fun this way. But, despite her cheerful character, frightening thoughts no, no, and even visited her.

Vasilisa had long turned twenty-five, an age that she and everyone around considered critical. And Vasilisa had an unsuccessful marriage and divorce behind her. And the complete absence of any prospects in terms of children. But Vasilisa wanted children. And definitely a lot, both boys and girls. And I wanted a normal husband. And most of all I wanted a big and friendly family. To brothers, sisters, uncles, aunts, nephews and nieces.

Since she has almost no relatives herself, only an old grandmother, and every spring she assures that this will certainly be her last, Vasilisa will have to look for a husband rich in relatives. But Vasilisa was not very successful with this matter, and with each passing day the hope of acquiring this kind of wealth became more and more elusive. All the decent gentlemen had long since gotten married and now humbly sat with their halves. Those who had not yet attracted anyone's attention walked free. Vasilisa didn’t want to pick such people.

Sometimes she even joked about it:

“When I get old, I won’t even have anyone to give me water.”

Although from childhood she remembered an anecdote about an old man who said to his old wife: “We lived with you all our lives, we suffered, of course, but I kept thinking that it was not in vain that I suffered with you. I kept thinking, if I’m about to die, my wife will still give me a glass of water. And now, it seems, my time has come, I’m dying. And you know, I don’t feel like drinking anything at all.”

In general, the man suffered in vain, it was not useful.

Of course, Vasilisa didn’t want to live her life like that. But there was no other way. Sometimes this made me very sad.

But in this case, Vasilisa’s grandmother always warned:

– Get all bad thoughts out of your head immediately. Don't let them take root there. They just show up, and you cross them! The holy cross is the best help for a person from any trouble. Honest work and a righteous cross - this is what every person needs for salvation in life.

Vasilisa considered her grandmother a believer, because even in the Soviet years she had an icon in her house. True, it’s the only one, and darkened over time to such an extent that it was impossible to even make out what kind of saint was depicted on it. Grandmother herself always claimed that the icon depicts St. Nicholas.

- And his face darkened from human sins.

It turned out that Vasilisa’s grandmother was a believer, although she never went to church. At first there was simply no church in their village. There was a collective farm and a large cowshed, which provided income for a good half of the village. There was also a club where they showed movies on weekends and even danced on holidays. And even the chairman of the collective farm managed to cover the main road with asphalt while the collective farm was in existence. And a completely unprecedented thing for the outback - he also managed to lay sidewalks on both sides of the roadway, so that people could feel like white bones even on weekends.

“Our chairman was a caring person,” said grandmother Vasilisa, who did not remember those days, because she was born after the collapse of the Union. – Everything for the people, nothing for myself. So that theft or bribery - such a shame would never be associated with him. He was an honest man; all bosses should be like that.

When the chairman returned from the war as a very young captain, he took off his shoulder straps and pulled the strap. Grandma also usually added: it’s good that the chairman didn’t live to see the 2000s, didn’t see how everything he built was scattered by the wind, stolen by strangers, or even by his own people, and taken away to yards.

“They dragged, it seemed like a lot,” laughed grandfather Pakhom, who served as a watchman on the collective farm and in his life had never even taken a rusty nail from someone else’s fence, laughing at the neighbors. - And when they brought it, they laid it out, and looked around, there was nothing anymore. They stand there scratching their heads. How did this happen? Where did it all go? But I’ve been a watchman all my life, I’ve seen everyone. And I’ll tell you one thing: don’t bother with someone else’s! Because stolen, it never benefits anyone. I've seen so many things in my life, but I've never seen anything that was stolen and turned into a profit. It will leak between your fingers, you won’t be able to track it, you won’t understand where it went. But the shame and disgrace for what was done will remain with you guys forever.

But who listened to him? Does anyone really listen to wise old men, especially if these old men have been simple watchmen all their lives? People wanted to grab more while they still had something to haul. It seemed like this could delay the inevitable. But soon there was nothing and nowhere to drag. And the times have come completely hopeless. There was no longer a collective farm, where it was always possible to get hold of some nice little thing for life. There was no work in the village. There was no more life.

Some of the villagers went to work in big cities and disappeared there. Someone stayed and began to drink moonshine, and then with it - a black melancholy from the soul. The end for those who remained was the same as for those who left. Someone simply died quietly, without going anywhere, without making noise or causing outrage. This is what Vasilisa’s grandmother was now preparing to do.

And, getting ready for a long journey from where there is no return, she called her only granddaughter to her. Say goodbye.

- Come, granddaughter. I need to tell you one last thing. Maybe a couple of days left, maybe a couple of hours. Better hurry up. I need to tell you a secret.

-What are you saying, grandma? What secret?

“It’s high time for my soul to set off on its journey, but the secret holds it and won’t let it go.” Hurry up, granddaughter, I'm sick of sitting here. I should have set out on the road a long time ago and told you the secret before leaving, but I kept putting it off, so I waited until the extreme. Come quickly so that I can hit the road with a light heart.

Vasilisa would have rushed to her even without this request. As soon as she heard about the long journey that her grandmother was going on, Vasilisa immediately understood what she was talking about. And she rushed around the apartment:

- Grandma is dying!

It just so happened that her grandmother was her only close person. Vasilisa did not remember either her father or her mother. She was raised by her grandmother, who spared no effort to give her granddaughter a good education. But how good is it there, in their outback? But Vasilisa managed to get a gold medal at a rural school and therefore went to St. Petersburg to study further. She studied, got married, got divorced, got married again, unsuccessfully again, but she didn’t get a divorce; she was ashamed in front of her grandmother, who had a hard time withstanding her first divorce.

But now it turns out that very soon it will be possible to get divorced again with peace of mind. Grandmother will no longer know about this, because her voice is very weak and somehow so distant, as if she lives not two hundred kilometers from St. Petersburg, but many tens of thousands, somewhere completely different, where her connections come from. then with the world of the living there really is no such thing.

As soon as she hung up the phone, Vasilisa ran around the apartment, collecting things that might be useful to her on the road. It was already evening, but she could not wait until the morning. It’s okay, trains also run at night. It will get there somehow. But what should you take with you? It is unknown how long she will travel. So, you need clothes. Comfortable shoes. Medicines for grandma. Looking at the bag of medicine that she was mechanically collecting, Vasilisa almost burst into tears again. What kind of medicine are there if doctors give granny from several days to a couple of hours. No pills will help anymore. And injections won't help. Nothing will help at all.

Vasilisa didn’t even tell her husband where she was going. Artyom was asleep, having taken a dose of his favorite sedative - whiskey, and Vasilisa did not wake him. It is unlikely that he will even notice her absence, even when he wakes up. And if he notices, that’s what he needs. Let him wonder where she disappeared to. Let him worry. Maybe then something in his head will turn in the right direction. Slamming the door behind her, Vasilisa threw her travel bag over her shoulder and easily ran down the steps of the stairs.

She managed to buy a ticket at the station right away. It was as if they were waiting for her there. And there was no line at the cash register. And the train left in just half an hour. Everything worked out so well that Vasilisa even began to think that she would have time to find her grandmother still alive.

On the way, Vasilisa was distracted from her gloomy thoughts. She had long noticed that on the road, in general, all troubles were somehow easier to bear. Even heartfelt grief gives way under the onslaught of new impressions. It is no coincidence that travel is considered the best cure for depression or love blues.

In general, Vasilisa did not have to feel sad on the road. The unknown spirit that accompanied her from home did not leave her. Vasilisa managed to be on time everywhere, even if she had to jump into a departing transport at the last minute.

First, she rushed to the station, then jumped on the train, then took the bus, and then hitched a ride to her grandmother’s house. It was still very early in the morning. It was dark on the streets, but Vasilisa still asked the driver to drop her off in the central square, from which she had to walk to her grandmother’s house.

- Aren’t you afraid? Dark. And every other lantern is on.

-What should I be afraid of? I grew up in these places. If any villains are encountered, they will be exclusively their own, relatives. They won't touch me.

And, throwing her bag over her shoulder, Vasilisa waved to the driver and walked briskly forward. It’s still a quarter of an hour’s walk to grandma’s house, but so much the better. There will be time to clear your head and collect your thoughts before the meeting. There was no time for everything on the road, but now in the fresh air and in the silence of the night it’s all right.

Here is the main street of the village, leading from the Lenin monument to grandma’s house. It never occurred to anyone here that we should get rid of the monument. They just got used to it, it became, as it were, part of the landscape. And the unprincipled people in the village didn’t feel any particular hostility towards Ilyich either.

Of course, the coming to power of the Bolsheviks cannot be called an easy time for our country. And they shot Tsar Nicholas and Tsarina Alexandra. And they did not spare their boy - Tsarevich Alexei. And the girls, the Grand Duchesses, Olga, Tatiana, Maria and Anastasia, were also killed. Eternal shame on the Bolsheviks.

But our people are not malicious, they forgave Lenin and his gang of thieves for this too.

Vasilisa was already walking step by step, delaying the terrible moment, and then she finally slowed down. Something strange seemed to her this night. She stood not far from Lenin, who angrily looked at her from his dais. He clearly also did not approve of Vasilisa’s frivolous behavior. Instead of building a bright future for the entire planet, you get carried away with your personal life, my dear, that’s what was read in his eyes.

In the predawn twilight, the face of the leader of the proletariat looked eerie. The facial features became sharper, the eye sockets completely darkened, and Vasilisa’s hand automatically reached out to make the sign of the cross. But without reaching her hand to her forehead, Vasilisa turned to stone. Something incredible was happening to the monument. He started to double!

He suddenly grew a second head, then a third arm, and then two additional legs. Moreover, these legs and arms behaved very strangely, they did not stand straight, but jerked and actively wrapped themselves around two other legs and arms, behaving very decently, as befits the limbs of monuments.

- Mommy! – Vasilisa whispered.

Both Lenin's heads were wearing caps, and the two leaders were also dressed the same - rumpled baggy trousers and an unbuttoned raincoat. One Lenin remained standing in his usual place, but the second jumped to the ground and moved towards the bus station. He walked leisurely, clearly in no hurry. With his hands behind his back, he looked around like a proprietor. It was difficult to say whether the ghost was pleased with what he saw or not. The bright future that the grandfather of all the October children prophesied for the country did not happen here. But the devastation into which Ilyich and his accomplices eventually brought the country was also eliminated.

- Why is this being done? – Vasilisa whispered, watching the leader of the world revolution walking across the square.

Vladimir Ilyich carefully looked at the three stone two-story buildings standing in Karpovka, in one of which there was a store and the only cafe in the village, in the other - the administration, and in the third there was a post office and all other authorities associated with the life of a Russian, such as the passport office, notary, housing maintenance service and others.

The facades of all three buildings have recently been restored. Light peach, soft pink and azure blue—the administration liked these colors more than others.

Near the administration building, painted blue, Vladimir Ilyich stopped and made an obscene gesture, and then spat with relish and seemed to even curse. Trying to drive away the gloom, Vasilisa closed her eyes and pinched her hand. It helped. When she opened her eyes again and looked towards the administration, there was no one there.

The ghost of the Lenin monument disappeared, as if it had never existed. The second Lenin continued to stand in his place. Vasilisa looked at him warily. Of course, she understood that this person was difficult, but so much so! And my grandmother said more than once that something strange had been happening in Karpovka lately, but Vasilisa thought that this was about the thievery of officials or something like that.

“Holy God, save me,” Vasilisa whispered, just in case. - Some kind of devilry.

She trotted away from the terrible place, looking back every now and then to see if anyone was following her.

It is unlikely that Lenin had any reason to persecute her personally. And he didn’t notice Vasilisa frozen in the shadow. He didn't look aggressive either. It’s his right to spit on the administration, but it’s still not worth the risk. Who knows, these ghosts. Moreover, the ghost is so bad, how many innocent lives have been ruined because of it. What if he even covets Vasilisa’s pathetic little soul? I haven’t tried human food in a while, I’m guessing I’m hungry.

Grandmother always said: if you are afraid of something, pray, everything will work out. After reading a short prayer, Vasilisa decided that she was now safe. It was in vain that she asked the driver to drop her off on the night street, in vain she hoped that nothing and no one could threaten her in Karpovka. It turned out that it very well might.

It never occurred to her to pursue the divided Vladimir Ilyich. He has his own business, she has hers.

Vasilisa already had something to occupy herself with and something to think about. And although she understood that she had to hurry if she wanted to see her grandmother alive, she did everything to delay this meeting. The reason is that Vasilisa absolutely did not know what to talk about with her grandmother.

Granny disapproved very much of her first marriage, but she disapproved even more of her divorce. And when Vasilisa got married for the second time, officially, with a stamp in her passport, a veil and a party in a restaurant, her grandmother began to consider her granddaughter as something like a fallen woman. I even prayed even harder for her.

“And I still can’t beg you off, Vaska!” – she complained. “If only I weren’t so sinful myself, then okay.” And so you and I will disappear, girl. But you, you are what you are! I was so miserable, and even after your grandfather I didn’t want to look at a single man. And you?

- What about me?

– I got married for the second time! And even with a living husband!

– The time is different now.

– The time is different, the people are the same.

– Divorce has long been legalized.

- And what? Abortion was also legalized. Has this made life better?

If Vasilisa’s second marriage had been any more successful than her first, she would have had something to answer to her grandmother’s reproaches. But no, and Vasilisa’s second marriage could not be called successful. The first husband - Antoshka - walked from her to the right and left, did not miss a single skirt and constantly lied. He lied about why he was late from work, why his shirt was wearing women’s lipstick. He lied about why they called him in the middle of the night in women’s voices and urgently demanded something from him.

Moreover, Anton lied so masterfully that at first Vasilisa herself believed his lies. Their union lasted two whole years. Only two years later, the evidence of his infidelities became so obvious that Vasilisa simply could not turn a blind eye any longer. You know, when you find a naked girl in your own bed being hugged by your own husband, there is somehow no room for doubt.

To tell the truth, the husband did not give up even at that delicate moment, he resorted to a tried-and-true method and tried to come up with some completely unthinkable story about artificial respiration to justify himself, but Vasilisa did not want to listen to him. She quickly divorced Gulena and married a man who seemed serious and responsible. That's exactly what it seemed.

This shot turned out to have a completely different flaw. Vasilisa’s second husband was not interested in women, he had no time for that. All his interests were absorbed by the bottle.

Alas, Artem drank, and binge-drinking. Between one binge and another, he had intervals of sobriety, during one of which Vasilisa and Artem met. During these intervals, some of which lasted several months, Artyom seemed to be an ideal man, everything in him was just enough so that there was no shortage, but there was no excess either. So the enchanted Vasilisa believed that fate had mercy on her.

At the wedding, the husband did not touch alcohol. I didn't even take a sip of champagne. Vasilisa would have been wary then, but no, she was only delighted at what a rare, downright unique man she got as her husband.

When hubby returned drunk for the first time on Friday evening, Vasilisa was not too upset. It can happen to anyone. Too much, it happens. Moreover, on Saturday morning, after waking up, Artem very convincingly explained to his wife that the embarrassment happened because the canteen in their office suddenly closed, and he didn’t have a drop of poppy dew in his mouth all day.

“And in the evening they sat down to celebrate the boss’s birthday, so I was so lucky.” But this is the first and last time, I swear to you. I don’t like being in this state myself.

Vasilisa believed it. After all, Artem had never touched alcohol before. But already that same day in the evening he went out for cigarettes, and returned late at night and was drunk again. On Sunday he drank what he brought with him on Saturday, and on Monday he did not go to work. And he didn’t come out on Tuesday. And on Wednesday. And on Thursday. On Friday the binge ended unexpectedly. Artem even managed to receive a sick leave from a doctor he knew, who knew well the true illness of his patient. That was all there was to it at that time.

For the next month everything went fine. Artem showed up sober, was sweet and accommodating, participated in household chores, Vasilisa could not get enough of him. But a month later he broke down again. And this time he drank for two whole weeks, so that the service began to call and ask when the employee would show up and do the job for which he was hired. Vasilisa was afraid that Artem would be fired, but no, somehow everything worked out. It turned out that Artem can lie no less convincingly than Anton. This finally made her think.

Then there was another binge, and another and another. Artem was stitched up, coded, hypnotized, even went to see his grandmother-healer and attended several acupuncture sessions with a well-known Chinese in his circles. But whether it was a healer grandmother or a Chinese man, the result was invariably the same.

At first Vasilisa was sincerely worried and tried to help him in the fight against the green serpent, but then this struggle began to tire her. Yes, I felt very sorry for Artyom, he was a good man, but he died in an unequal battle. But Vasilisa felt sorry for herself. She understood that she could fuss with Artyom for a month, maybe a year, or maybe her whole life. And what? Does she need this? Every day, look out the window, waiting for your loved one, and wonder how he will return?

Now Artyom was just at the peak of another binge and, according to the estimates of Vasilisa, who had already become experienced in such things, he could hardly get out of the tailspin before next week. She was afraid to take him to his grandmother in this condition. I was afraid for my grandmother. It’s better that she doesn’t find out anything. Although you can’t deceive her, Vasilisa was convinced of this a long time ago.

Grandma’s house stood at the very end of the street, from where the river and gentle slopes covered with willow were visible. The house was small, rickety from time to time. Vasilisa once suggested building a new house and demolishing this wreck, but the grandmother seemed even offended by her granddaughter.

“You young people should ruin everything,” she grumbled at Vasilisa. - Wait, I’ll die, you’ll still have time to rebuild a new house.

Although Vasilisa visited here several times every year, she could no longer consider the house her own. Yes, she had to leave, she had no prospects in Karpovka, but she still felt some guilt before her grandmother, whom she left completely alone. It’s not that the grandmother complained to her granddaughter or otherwise made it clear that she was harboring a grudge, but Vasilisa herself was a little ashamed. She lives in the city, albeit not very happily, but she lives. And grandma is here alone...

But, on the other hand, if you compare both of them, the grandmother looked much happier, and certainly a thousand times more peaceful than Vasilisa.

Yes, the collective farm was no longer here. But people began to return. And the church was finally built. They say that there was once a temple on that site, but it burned down during the revolution. Just when the first stone was laid at the foundation of the future temple, Vasilisa’s grandmother started talking about the approaching end. They wanted her to go to the hospital, but her grandmother refused. Vasilisa agreed with her neighbor to visit the old woman twice a day, feed and help. But she was no longer able to become the same grandmother. Although I made it to the window. And she also went out to the kindergarten to warm some bones.

I also saw how the walls of the temple were erected. The priest was young and efficient; my grandmother was pleased with him and said that he reminded her of the late chairman of the collective farm:

- Just as passionate.

Father John really tried to do as much as possible for his parish. He fussed, found sponsors, workers, negotiated with the administration and public organizations. Over the course of several years, I achieved that Karpovka was transformed. Now they had everything like cultured people: a supermarket, a restaurant, an asphalt road. But what about it? We do not live under Tsar Pea.

The local priest, for his religious processions, which he loved to conduct and considered a symbol of a successful parish, renovated the asphalt everywhere in Karpovka, extracted these repairs from the local administration by hook or by crook, despite the fact that there were never more than two or three cars on the roadway at a time . And even then only in the midst of suffering, at the time of harvesting, for which, according to old memory, some enthusiastic farmers and young people who came to try their hand at agriculture still tried.

But the religious processions turned out to be effective. TV crews came and enthusiastically filmed what they called “the revival of old Russia.” Vasilisa had an ambivalent attitude towards these events. On the one hand, it seems interesting and colorful, what can I say, and they sing beautifully. And everyone’s faces are so blissful, and the women’s eyes sparkle under their white scarves. They come from afar, many tens of kilometers away, and they take small children with them.

But the vast majority of believers are women, there are few men. And what they are, they’re all kind of strange. Vasilisa definitely wouldn’t marry someone like that. The priest was definitely good. He is broad in the shoulders, tall in stature, and has a thick beard. But he, as Vasilisa knew well, had already taken a vow of celibacy and therefore was not even considered as a potential groom. She had never taken a man from another woman, but here she dared to take away a servant from the Lord himself. No, Vasilisa did not feel such audacity in herself. And since there were no other worthy gentlemen in this pious company, Vasilisa should not have interfered there.

And yet the topic of a decent groom was the most pressing for Vasilisa.

Although Vasilisa was now listed as married, she had long been thinking about how she could change this status. But since she liked being alone even less, she was already now, ahead of time, looking for a suitable candidate for the role of her next husband. At the threshold of her grandmother’s house, she gathered her courage, knowing that the conversation would definitely turn to Artyom. It just can't help but come in. And what to tell my grandmother is still not clear.

That’s why Vasilisa asked the driver to stop further from the house, right on the square near the Lenin monument, to walk and gather her courage before talking with the old woman.

“He’ll definitely ask why Artyom didn’t come.” And no matter what I tell her, she will probably guess that we are going to get a divorce.

Vasilisa didn’t want to lie to Grandma, and then she knew that it was useless anyway. How many times did she become convinced from her own experience that there was no way she could fool her grandmother? Vasilisa’s granny had a truly incredible sense of lying.

Vasilisa, completely cross-legged, walked along the street. It was only a stone's throw to my grandmother's house, and, immersed in her thoughts, she tried to walk as slowly as possible. I hardly looked around, and therefore walked past an old dark green car parked near the house with complete indifference. It's worth it, and let it be worth it. It’s a little strange that the owner chose to leave his beauty on the street rather than drive her into the yard, but you never know why he did this. His business. Maybe he stopped by for a little while. Maybe he should leave soon.

The girl walked on and did not notice that a dark human figure had risen behind her in the car. The man looked out of the window and stared intently at Vasilisa, as if wondering where she had come from. He was wearing a cap, a raincoat and baggy trousers. The same outfit that Vasilisa recently saw on Vladimir Ilyich’s double. And the man was the same. He managed to get around the village and return to his car by roundabout routes while Vasilisa trudged along the main street.

But she didn't notice anything. Not a person in the car. Not how much he resembles the ghost that scared her. She walked and thought about her grandmother. And there was something to think about.

Daria Aleksandrovna Kalinina

Bang bang, beautiful marquise!

If you diligently prepare for a rainy day, it will definitely come. But for some reason people often forget about this and diligently prepare for something that they want to avoid at all costs.

Being a cheerful person, Vasilisa always looked into the future with optimism. Life was much more fun this way. But, despite her cheerful character, frightening thoughts no, no, and even visited her.

Sometimes she even joked about it:

“When I get old, I won’t even have anyone to give me water.”

In general, the man suffered in vain, it was not useful.

Of course, Vasilisa didn’t want to live her life like that. But there was no other way. Sometimes this made me very sad.

But in this case, Vasilisa’s grandmother always warned:

- And his face darkened from human sins.

And, getting ready for a long journey from where there is no return, she called her only granddaughter to her. Say goodbye.

- Come, granddaughter. I need to tell you one last thing. Maybe a couple of days left, maybe a couple of hours. Better hurry up. I need to tell you a secret.

-What are you saying, grandma? What secret?

- Grandma is dying!

“I just need to see Prokhor Kuzmich, say what grandma ordered, and that’s all.”

– What do you need to convey?

And Vasilisa said simply:

– First of all, I have to say hello to him. And also...

– What else?

Marya Petrovna's eyes blazed with such burning curiosity that Vasilisa was finally convinced that this aunt was asking questions for a reason.

– And my grandmother invites him to visit us.

- Oh, for a visit.

Marya Petrovna immediately sank. She clearly expected to hear something different. And Vasilisa thought that this woman had something on her mind, and she didn’t like it at all. Perhaps it was in vain that she stopped in this house. It was in vain that she succumbed to Baturin’s persuasion. We had to go straight to Malochaevka; there was still time to do it. But then Vasilisa looked out the window, realized that it was already completely dark, and threw away these thoughts.

It would be nice if she were now alone in an unfamiliar place and in the dark. And it is still unknown how the Old Believers would have accepted it. If Vasilisa came to them in the company of Savva, it would be a different matter. But she will come alone, and even bring such terrible news. And again, terrible thoughts began to overcome Vasilisa. How will the Old Believers begin to suspect that Vasilisa and her grandmother had a hand in the murder of their envoy?

And looking into the darkness outside the window, and then looking at the table, literally bursting with all kinds of homemade snacks and pickles, Vasilisa was ashamed of her previous thoughts about her hospitable hosts. These Baturins are lovely people. They gave her shelter, prepared a delicious dinner, and a comfortable bed. And she suspects them of what the hell. Marya Petrovna is curious; this sin is not hers alone. It's OK.

And yet, at the first opportunity, Vasilisa cited fatigue and asked to go to bed. Marya Petrovna tried to persuade her to sit still, saying that she wanted to get to know Vasilisa better. But Vasilisa found unexpected support in the person of Baturin.

“That’s right,” he said decisively. – Tomorrow it’s early morning to get up. It's almost three hours' drive to Malochaevka. It's time to go to the side. Didn't Kalyazin call?

They waited for him all evening, but he not only did not appear, but also did not make himself known in any way.

- I called. While you were at the airport, I called.

- Why didn’t you ring my trumpet?

“He said he couldn’t get through.”

- A... And what did you say?

- What should I tell him? The same. Sick all the time. He said that if he doesn’t get better, you should go tomorrow yourself.

- Interesting movie! – Baturin was surprised. - How about ourselves?

- Aren’t you going to get there? You know the way. Why do you need Kalyazin?

– It’s still somehow strange without an accompaniment. It's not an easy matter. Whatever one may say, Savva was killed.

But Marya Petrovna said with conviction:

– It will be even better without Kalyazin! Otherwise, Prokhor Kuzmich is a man who is distrustful of the authorities. If he sees that the police are with you, he will instantly bristle. And she will look at Vasilisa like a beech.

“Maybe you’re right,” muttered Baturin. – But still, I’ll call Kalyazin. There was an agreement.

But he was unable to get through. I always ended up in the wrong place.

– What kind of nonsense? I remember recording his phone number.

– This is the Lord hinting to you that there is no point in dragging this Kalyazin with you.

Ignat Fedorovich shrugged his shoulders again, and then went to bed. He snored first. Listening to his roulades behind the wall, Vasilisa gradually dozed off. Marya Petrovna was busy in the dining room, clearing away the treats, hiding the leftovers in the refrigerator and on the glassed-in loggia. The woman deliberately stretched out her affairs. She waited for her husband and guest to fall asleep. And after making sure that both were fast asleep, the woman opened Vasilisa’s bag and examined it carefully. She did not miss a single fold in the clothing and carefully read all the pieces of paper that she could find.

Not finding anything that might interest her, she went out onto the loggia and, taking out her cell phone, dialed a number she knew well.

- The girl is silent.

“I said that you were up to something stupid.”

- No, it’s not stupidity. Now I'm sure that the girl knows something and is hiding something.

And after a short silence, a male voice said:

“Do you think the old witch told her granddaughter?”

“If she wasn’t out of her mind, then she told me.”

- How will you be tomorrow? Is everything going according to plan?

- Yes. As we agreed. The husband will take the girl to Malochayevka.

- Make sure they leave early.

“My husband wants it that way.”

- Say goodbye to him kindly...

– Why is this still necessary?

- Let him leave you with a good heart.

- How kind you are! - Marya Petrovna snorted. – You even think about him!

- What about it? We live in this world to do good.

- Think about me better.

“I only think about you, my beauty.”

And the interlocutor hung up without saying goodbye. And Marya Petrovna stood on the loggia for a long time, inhaling the cold air. But if usually, when looking at residential areas built up with concrete boxes, Marya Petrovna was overcome with melancholy, today she felt pleasure. She knew that she had very little time left to breathe this disgusting air. Maybe a week, maybe a few days. And then... then they will leave!

They will leave forever, never to return to these cold, harsh and inhospitable lands, to dull, monotonous work, to poverty and squalor. If they have enough money, they will buy a tropical island. If that's not enough, at least a hotel. Oh, they will be the happiest people in the world when they manage to take possession of the old miser's money.

The sound of snoring could be heard from the open bedroom window. Ignat Fedorovich, her husband, the owner of these three-room mansions, of which he was extremely proud, always slept with the window open, regardless of the time of year and the weather outside. Then a particularly loud roulade followed, and Marya Petrovna shrank painfully. This man again! Snoring again! How disgusting he is to her! And he himself and his snoring! And how he hates his rare timid touches! Is it possible to compare it with that young and hot body that she will get very soon along with her wealth?

“This money is as much hers as it is mine.” I deserve them no less, but I need them much more.

But she said this solely to convince herself that she was doing the right thing. She knew to herself that she had planned a real scam - completely dishonest and even criminal. And her inner voice did not succumb to the trick and screamed at the top of her lungs. Come to your senses! Stop! There's still time!

But Marya Petrovna, as they say, had her mouth in her mouth. She looked around at the neighboring houses, shuddered when someone drunkenly screamed some obscenity from the top floor, and made a terrible oath to herself that either the gold would belong to her, or she would not live. Because she also could not call life the hopeless existence that she had been leading for decades.

Chapter 8

The next morning, Vasilisa, unaware of Marya Petrovna’s nightly vacillations and torments, tenderly said goodbye to her hostess. The farewell turned out to be all the more tender because the women felt guilty before each other. Vasilisa was worried about her suspicion and suspiciousness yesterday. And Marya Petrovna... well, her conscience has not yet completely died down either.

The cheerful Ignat Fedorovich, who slept superbly all night, knowing nothing about his wife’s tricks, said:

- You need to sleep in the fresh air. Then the next morning your head will be clear and your consciousness will be bright. I envy you, Vasilisa. Soon you will find yourself in the most beautiful place on earth.

- Where is this?

- Yes, in Malochaevka! The air in Malochaevka is such that you can eat it with a spoon. You go out into the forest, and there is such splendor there. I already called my wife to move from the city to the village, but she didn’t go anywhere.

“What are you talking about, dear,” Marya Petrovna responded, busy in the kitchen with an early breakfast. – What about our work? Our house?

- So what about the house? And what's the job? How much do you earn at your enterprise there? The same money can be obtained if you own a private farm.

– Twist cows’ tails? - Marya Petrovna flared up. - No way! This was enough for me as a child! I will never enter the barn again!

- What a fool!

However, Ignat Fedorovich said this quite good-naturedly. Vasilisa saw that this man loved his wife. But Marya Petrovna... She probably loved her husband, too, but somehow in her own way. However, what does Vasilisa care whether Ignat Fedorovich loves his wife or she loves him?

– Will you take me all the way to Malochayevka? – Vasilisa asked Baturin.

- What about it? I gave the investigator my honest, most honest word that I would take you to the place.

If you diligently prepare for a rainy day, it will definitely come. But for some reason people often forget about this and diligently prepare for something that they want to avoid at all costs.

Being a cheerful person, Vasilisa always looked into the future with optimism. Life was much more fun this way. But, despite her cheerful character, frightening thoughts no, no, and even visited her.

Sometimes she even joked about it:

“When I get old, I won’t even have anyone to give me water.”

In general, the man suffered in vain, it was not useful.

Of course, Vasilisa didn’t want to live her life like that. But there was no other way. Sometimes this made me very sad.

But in this case, Vasilisa’s grandmother always warned:

- And his face darkened from human sins.

And, getting ready for a long journey from where there is no return, she called her only granddaughter to her. Say goodbye.

- Come, granddaughter. I need to tell you one last thing. Maybe a couple of days left, maybe a couple of hours. Better hurry up. I need to tell you a secret.

-What are you saying, grandma? What secret?

- Grandma is dying!

Chapter 1

If you diligently prepare for a rainy day, it will definitely come. But for some reason people often forget about this and diligently prepare for something that they want to avoid at all costs.

Being a cheerful person, Vasilisa always looked into the future with optimism. Life was much more fun this way. But, despite her cheerful character, frightening thoughts no, no, and even visited her.

Sometimes she even joked about it:

“When I get old, I won’t even have anyone to give me water.”

In general, the man suffered in vain, it was not useful.

Of course, Vasilisa didn’t want to live her life like that. But there was no other way. Sometimes this made me very sad.

But in this case, Vasilisa’s grandmother always warned:

- And his face darkened from human sins.

There was also a club where they showed movies on weekends and even danced on holidays. And even the chairman of the collective farm managed to cover the main road with asphalt while the collective farm was in existence. And a completely unprecedented thing for the outback - he also managed to lay sidewalks on both sides of the roadway, so that people could feel like white bones even on weekends.

And, getting ready for a long journey from where there is no return, she called her only granddaughter to her. Say goodbye.

- Come, granddaughter. I need to tell you one last thing. Maybe a couple of days left, maybe a couple of hours. Better hurry up. I need to tell you a secret.

-What are you saying, grandma? What secret?

- Grandma is dying!

- Aren’t you afraid? Dark. And every other lantern is on.

-What should I be afraid of? I grew up in these places. If any villains are encountered, they will be exclusively their own, relatives. They won't touch me.

But our people are not malicious, they forgave Lenin and his gang of thieves for this too.

- Mommy! – Vasilisa whispered.

- Why is this being done? – Vasilisa whispered, watching the leader of the world revolution walking across the square.

The facades of all three buildings have recently been restored. Light peach, soft pink and azure blue—the administration liked these colors more than others.

“Holy God, save me,” Vasilisa whispered, just in case. - Some kind of devilry.

She trotted away from the terrible place, looking back every now and then to see if anyone was following her.

It never occurred to her to pursue the divided Vladimir Ilyich. He has his own business, she has hers.

- What about me?

– I got married for the second time! And even with a living husband!

– The time is different now.

– The time is different, the people are the same.

– Divorce has long been legalized.

- And what? Abortion was also legalized. Has this made life better?

This shot turned out to have a completely different flaw. Vasilisa’s second husband was not interested in women, he had no time for that. All his interests were absorbed by the bottle.

“And in the evening they sat down to celebrate the boss’s birthday, so I was so lucky.” But this is the first and last time, I swear to you. I don’t like being in this state myself.

“You young people should ruin everything,” she grumbled at Vasilisa. - Wait, I’ll die, you’ll still have time to rebuild a new house.

But, on the other hand, if you compare both of them, the grandmother looked much happier, and certainly a thousand times more peaceful than Vasilisa.

Daria Aleksandrovna Kalinina Bang bang, beautiful marquise!

Chapter 1

Chapter 8

Chapter 1

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Daria Aleksandrovna Kalinina
Bang bang, beautiful marquise!