Madame Koska and Le Spectre de la Rose
Page 12
“Go!” said M. Danilov. The orchestra started playing, the film crew started filming. Victor took four great steps to the window and leapt into the air, soaring like a glorious bird, and out of the dark window into the wings, which looked like a magical, deep blue night.
~~~
Madame Koska did not remain for the end of the show; she did not want to see Victor arrested officially and taken away. She did not want to talk to anyone from the ballet, not at that moment. Of course, she would have to speak and work with M. Danilov, Lavrova, Bassin… but she could not face Danilov’s obsession, Lavrova’s heartlessness, and Bassin’s stupidity. Nor did she wish to speak with Inspector Blount. Yes, she was glad he had come, but she needed to get away from him for a while. She moved swiftly to a side door next to the stage, and saw Mr. Korolenko waiting for her. They quickly left the theatre and Mr. Korolenko said, “I was waiting in the back.”
“I am glad to see you … I feel like an executioner. He is insane, Dmitry. He does not know what he does… and his great talent is now going to disappear forever.”
“There was no choice, Vera. He is extremely dangerous. He really does not understand the horror of his crimes, but you do. He cannot be allowed freedom.”
“Yes, and he knows it. There will never be another Victor Parizhsky, Dmitry. Never.”
“I know. But he will be remembered forever. He will not be forgotten, and his name will be legend.”
“And the myths about his flying will just grow,” said Madame Koska. “How sad Galina is going to be.” She touched her handkerchief to her eyes.
“Vera, you need a vacation. You need to get away. I have to go abroad soon to meet some people in Germany about book translations. How would you like to come with me?”
“But I am so busy…”
“You can do it after you finish the Icarus costumes. The summer, you told me, is always less busy at any atelier. Or do you think it will cause eyebrows to be raised? If so, you can marry me before we go, you know. Easy enough.”
Madame Koska laughed. “No, no. No one will raise an eyebrow… This is the twentieth century! One doesn’t have to marry just to go on vacation.”
“I would not mind marrying you,” said Mr. Korolenko generously, as if bestowing a great favour. Madame Koska smiled and took his arm. “No, no marriage. At least not yet, Dmitry. But yes, I’d love to go to Germany with you. Also, you know, I have heard a lot about these new entertainment spots, the cabarets. They are most important in Berlin.”
“The cabarets? But they are risqué! Inappropriate! Vulgar!” said Mr. Korolenko, surprised.
“You know much about them?” asked Madame Koska.
“I know the owner of one in Berlin,” said Mr. Korolenko. “He is a Hungarian. An interesting character.”
“You know everyone everywhere,” said Madame Koska.
“Well, yes, I know a lot of people, some not so respectable,” admitted Mr. Korolenko. “But why do you need to see a cabaret?”
“I have a hunch that their styles are going to grow into Society fashion, and that the whole concept will be important to the atelier. I might as well learn about it from the start.”
“Another hunch…” said Mr. Korolenko, smiling. “Well, let’s stop for coffee, shall we, before we get back to work?”
The End