The miserable weather didn’t improve matters. The sky was overcast, and evil-looking crows circled and cawed right above his head, mocking him and foretelling more, even worse trouble. Peredonov wrapped his scarf more tightly around his neck, thinking he might easily catch cold in such weather.
‘What are these, Pavlusha?’ he asked Volodin, pointing to some small yellow flowers growing by someone’s garden fence.
‘They’re wolfsbane, Ardalyon,’ Volodin said sadly.
Peredonov remembered that there were a lot of them in his garden. What a terrible name they had! Perhaps they were poisonous? Varvara only had to pick a bunch, brew them up instead of tea-leaves and then she could poison him later, when the appointment was officially confirmed. Volodin would then take his place. Perhaps they’d already agreed on it. It was no coincidence he knew the name of that flower!
‘Let God be her judge!’ Volodin said. ‘Why should she insult me like that? I know she’s waiting for a rich nobleman, but she doesn’t realize there’re all kinds and she might yet rue the day, whereas a simple, honest man could make her happy. Anyway, I’ll light a candle for her in church and say a prayer. I shall ask God to send her a drunkard who’ll beat her, squander all the money and then utterly ruin her. Then she might remember me and regret her mistake when it’s too late. She’ll wipe away the tears and say, “What a fool I was to turn Pavel Volodin down. There was no one to make me see reason – he was a good man.” ’ Touched by his own words, Volodin shed a few tears and wiped his sheeplike, protruding eyes on his sleeve.
‘You should go and smash her windows one night,’ Peredonov suggested.
‘There’s no point in that. I must forget her,’ Volodin said sadly. ‘Anyhow, I might get caught. And as for that wretched boy! What did I do to deserve such treatment? Didn’t I try and do my best for him? And the whole time he was plotting against me! Tell me, what’s he going to be like when he grows up? What kind of boy can he be!’
‘No, you couldn’t even cope with a little boy. A fine fiancé you are!’ Peredonov said angrily.
‘What do you mean?’ retorted Volodin. ‘Of course I’m an eligible bachelor. I’ll soon find someone else. As long as she doesn’t think I’m going to lose any sleep over her.’
‘Ugh, a fine fiancé!’ jeered Peredonov. ‘You even wore a new tie. How come an oaf like you could think he could get into society! A fine fiancé!’
‘Well, I was the fiancé and you were the matchmaker. You raised my hopes, but you couldn’t pull it off! A fine matchmaker you are!’
They went on taunting each other and squabbling for some time, as if discussing some business deal.
When she had seen her guests out Nadezhda went back to the drawing-room. Misha was lying convulsed on the divan, roaring with laughter. Nadezhda dragged him off by the shoulders and said, ‘You seem to have forgotten that listening through keyholes is not allowed.’ She began to cross her fingers, the sign for him to go to the corner, but suddenly she burst out laughing. They embraced and both went on laughing for some time.
‘I still think you should stand in the corner for eavesdropping.’
‘Well, there’s gratitude for you! I saved you from Volodin and that’s how you treat me!’
‘Who saved whom? What about the birching he said he would give you? Now into the corner!’
‘I prefer to just kneel down here,’ Misha said.
He fell on his knees at his sister’s feet and put his head in her lap. She stroked and tickled him. Misha laughed and crawled across the floor on his knees. Suddenly Nadezhda pushed him away and sat on the divan, leaving Misha by himself. He stayed on his knees for a few moments and looked at her questioningly. She settled down to read a book, but kept peeping over the top to watch Misha.
‘I feel so tired now,’ he said plaintively.
‘Well, I didn’t tell you to kneel, did I?’ she said, smiling over her book.
‘I’ve been punished enough, let me go now,’ Misha pleaded.
‘Did I tell you to kneel?’ Nadezhda repeated, pretending not to care. ‘Now, leave me in peace!’
‘I shan’t get up until I’m forgiven.’
Nadezhda laughed, put the book down and drew Misha to her by his shoulders. He squealed and rushed to embrace her, exclaiming, ‘Pavlusha’s bride!’
SIXTEEN
Lyudmila was captivated by the dark-eyed boy and couldn’t stop talking about him to her sisters and friends, and often at quite the wrong time. She dreamed about him almost every night, sometimes as just an ordinary shy, inoffensive little boy, but more often in some wild or fantastic setting. Her sisters were now so used to hearing about her dreams that soon they started asking her every morning what she had dreamed the night before. And all her spare time was spent just day-dreaming about him.
On Sunday Lyudmila persuaded her sisters to invite Kokovkina over after Mass and to delay her as long as they could: she wanted to see Sasha on his own. She herself didn’t go to church and asked her sisters to make the excuse that she had overslept. They were amused by her little plan, but of course they agreed. The sisters really got on very well and this suited them perfectly: the fact that Lyudmila was so taken up with a young boy would be less competition for themselves. And so they kept their promise and invited Kokovkina after Mass.
Meanwhile Lyudmila put on a bright, pretty dress and sprayed herself with a light jasmine perfume. Into her white beaded handbag went a full bottle of scent and a small sprinkler. She hid behind the curtain by one of the drawing-room windows, so that she could see if Kokovkina was coming. She had thought of taking the scent to spray him with earlier – she didn’t want him smelling of Latin books and school. Lyudmila loved perfumes; she had them sent from St Petersburg and used them a lot. She also loved highly fragrant flowers and her room was always full of an almost overpowering smell – of pine, flowers, newly gathered young birch twigs and some exotic perfume.
The sisters duly appeared with Kokovkina along the road. Lyudmila joyfully ran through the kitchen, across the vegetable garden, through the wicket gate and down a side-street in order to avoid the landlady. She smiled gaily as she briskly walked to Kokovkina’s house, playfully swinging her white handbag and parasol. The warm autumn day put her in high spirits and she seemed to be radiating her own unique brand of gaiety.
At Kokovkina’s the red-cheeked maid told her that her mistress was out. Lyudmila laughed noisily and jokingly remarked, ‘Perhaps you’re not telling me the truth. Perhaps your mistress is hiding somewhere.’
‘Ooh! Why should she?’ the maid giggled. ‘Come in and see for yourself if you don’t believe me.’
Lyudmila looked into the drawing-room and mischievously cried, ‘Is everyone dead in here? Aha! A schoolboy!’
Sasha was peering out of his room and was delighted when he saw Lyudmila, whose spirits rose even more at the sight of his cheerful eyes.
‘And where’s your landlady?’ she asked.
‘She’s not back yet. I think she went on somewhere straight after church. I’ve been back a long time.’
Lyudmila pretended to be surprised, waved her parasol and said in a mock-serious voice, ‘I don’t understand. Everyone else is home from church. Yes, everyone’s home, but there’s no sign of her! You must have driven her out of the house with all your noise!’
Sasha smiled and didn’t reply. He loved Lyudmila’s voice, her ringing laughter. He was already wondering what was the best way of offering to see her to a cab when she left, just to be with her a few minutes longer. But Lyudmila had no intention of leaving for a long time. She looked at Sasha with a crafty smile and said, ‘Well, aren’t you going to ask me to sit down, my charming young man? You must understand, I’m tired from walking all that way. I want to rest a little.’ She went into the drawing-room, laughing and fondling Sasha with her gentle darting eyes. Sasha was embarrassed, blushed deeply, but was glad none the less that she was going to stay.
‘Would you like me to spray you?’ asked Lyudm
ila in a lively voice.
‘Really, you’re so funny!’ Sasha replied. ‘You’ve only just arrived and now you want to strangle* me! What have I done to deserve such cruelty?’
Lyudmila laughed with her ringing laugh and leant back in her armchair. ‘Strangle you!’ she exclaimed. ‘You stupid boy, you’ve completely misunderstood. I don’t want to strangle you, I want to spray you with perfume!’
Highly amused, Sasha replied, ‘Oh, with perfume! I’d love that!’
Lyudmila took the sprayer from her bag and turned the beautiful dark red bottle with its golden design, rubber bulb and bronze nozzle towards him and said, ‘You see, I bought this yesterday and forgot to take it out of my handbag at home.’ Then she took out a large bottle of perfume with the name Guérlain of Paris Rao Rosa written on the brightly coloured label.
‘What a deep handbag!’ Sasha said.
Lyudmila gaily replied, ‘Now don’t think you’re getting anything else! I haven’t brought you any gingerbread.’
He watched Lyudmila open the bottle with great curiosity and inquired, ‘How are you going to pour it without a funnel?’
Lyudmila gently replied, ‘You can get me one.’
‘I don’t have a funnel,’ Sasha replied, highly embarrassed.
‘Use what you like, but you must get a funnel,’ Lyudmila insisted.
‘I could borrow one from Malanya, but she’s been using it for paraffin.’
Lyudmila laughed. ‘How slow you are! Fetch me some paper if you can spare some – and I’ll show you how to make one.’
‘Oh, of course!’ he cheerfully exclaimed. ‘You can make one by rolling it up. I’ll go and get some right away.’ Sasha ran into his room. ‘May I tear a page out of an exercise book?’ he shouted.
‘I don’t care,’ Lyudmila cheerfully replied. ‘Take it from a textbook if you like, from your Latin grammar. It doesn’t bother me!’
Sasha laughed and shouted, ‘No, I’d better take it out of an exercise book!’ He found a new exercise book, tore out the middle pages and was just about to run back into the drawing-room when he saw Lyudmila at the door.
‘Have I permission to come in, young sir?’ she asked mischievously.
‘Of course, I’m delighted!’
Lyudmila sat at his table, made a funnel from the paper and then, with a solemn businesslike expression, poured the perfume into the sprayer. The sides and bottom of the funnel were darkened and moistened by the fragrant stream, which formed a little pool and then slowly dripped downwards. There was a sweet smell of roses mingled with the pungent odour of spirits. Lyudmila poured half the bottle out and said, ‘I think that’s enough.’ She screwed the top of the sprayer and then crumpled the wet funnel and rubbed it between her hands. ‘Smell that,’ she said, holding her palm to his face.
Sasha bent over, closed his eyes and took a deep sniff. Lyudmila laughed, gave him a gentle slap on the lips and kept her hand to his mouth. Sasha went deep scarlet and kissed her warm scented hands with a gentle touch of his trembling lips. Lyudmila sighed and for a moment a look of tenderness ran over her pretty face. And then she became her usual radiant, ebullient self again.
‘Just sit there and don’t move!’ she said. And she squeezed the rubber bulb. A fine fragrant mist filled the air and settled on Sasha’s shirt in myriads of tiny glistening drops. He laughed and turned obediently whenever Lyudmila pushed him.
‘Do you like it?’ she asked.
‘It’s lovely,’ Sasha cheerfully replied. ‘What’s it called?’
‘Just like a baby you are! Why don’t you look at the label?’ she said in a teasing voice. Sasha read it and said, ‘It smells like attar of roses.’
‘Attar of roses!’ she said scornfully and gently slapped his back. Sasha squealed with laughter and stuck out his tongue, rolling it into the shape of a tube. Lyudmila got up and began to inspect his school books. ‘Mind if I have a look?’ she asked.
‘Please do.’
‘Where are the ones and the noughts?’
‘So far I haven’t had that pleasure!’ Sasha retorted with an injured expression.
‘Don’t tell fibs,’ Lyudmila said emphatically. ‘I’m sure you’ve blotted out all the noughts! I know that’s what you get.’
Sasha silently smiled.
‘Do you find Greek and Latin boring?’ asked Lyudmila.
‘No, why should I?’ As usual Sasha clearly found the conversation about school work tedious in the extreme. ‘It’s boring having to swot,’ he admitted, ‘but I’ve a good memory. What I like is doing problems.’
‘Will you come and see me tomorrow after dinner?’ Lyudmila asked.
‘Thanks, I’d love to,’ Sasha replied, blushing.
He was delighted at the invitation. Lyudmila asked him again, ‘You will come, won’t you? Do you know where I live?’
‘Yes, I know where you live. Yes, I’ll come.’
‘And mind you don’t forget!’ Lyudmila warned. ‘I’ll be waiting for you, do you hear?’
‘Supposing I have a lot of homework,’ Sasha said, more from a feeling of guilt than from any doubt that he might go.
‘Rubbish. You must still come. Perhaps they won’t give you a one.’
‘But why do you want me to come?’ Sasha laughed.
‘I just want you to. There’s something I’d like to tell you – and show you,’ Lyudmila said, skipping, lifting her skirt and humming as she stuck her tiny pink fingers out. ‘Do come, my delicious, delightful, golden boy!’
Sasha laughed and asked, ‘Why can’t you tell me today?’
‘That’s impossible. And if I did tell you, you wouldn’t come tomorrow. You’d have no reason!’
‘All right, I promise. That’s if Kokovkina lets me.’
‘Of course she will! She doesn’t keep you chained up, does she?’
Lyudmila kissed Sasha goodbye on the forehead and held out her hand towards his lips. He had to kiss it. And Sasha found it extremely agreeable kissing that soft white hand again, but he did feel shy. It was impossible not to blush!
Lyudmila smiled coyly and artfully as she left and looked back several times.
How nice she is! thought Sasha, now he was alone. She didn’t stay very long! Suddenly she was gone before I knew what was happening. If only she’d stayed just a little longer. And he felt ashamed that he hadn’t offered to see her off. If only I could walk a little with her! If I ran I could catch her up, perhaps? She can’t have gone far. No, she’d only laugh and think I was a nuisance.
So he decided against it and as a result felt uneasy and depressed. The soft touch of her hand still lingered on his lips and the kiss on his forehead was still burning. How tenderly she kisses! he mused. Just like a loving sister. His cheeks were burning. The sensation was sweet – and shameful. Dim visions came crowding into his mind. If only she were my sister! Then I could kiss her whenever I liked, embrace her, whisper some fond words to her. I’d call her my darling Lyudmilochka. Or some other special name – Dragonfly or Honeysuckle. It would be sheer bliss if she answered to them! But she’s not my sister, he sadly thought. She just came and went and she’s probably forgotten all about me by now. All that’s left is a sweet smell of roses and lilac, the feel of two tender kisses and a strange excitement in my heart, giving birth to sweet dreams, just as the waves gave birth to Aphrodite.
Kokovkina wasn’t long in returning. ‘Ugh, it really smells in here,’ were her first words. Sasha blushed.
‘Lyudmilochka called,’ he said, ‘but you were out. She sprayed me with scent and then she left.’
‘Such tenderness!’ the landlady said in surprise. ‘And you’re calling her Lyudmilochka now.’
Sasha gave an embarrassed laugh and ran off to his room. Kokovkina had always thought that the Rutilov sisters were cheerful loving girls, capable of leading old and young men astray with their endearments.
Next morning Sasha awoke in high spirits: he was excited by the invitation. Impatiently, he waited until dinner
time and then, red with embarrassment, he asked Kokovkina if he could go to the Rutilovs’ until seven o’clock. Kokovkina was surprised but let him go. Sasha cheerfully ran off, having carefully combed his hair – he even put grease on it. He felt very happy but rather apprehensive, as if something important and wonderful was in store for him. He thought of the kisses that would be exchanged: he would kiss her hand and she would kiss him on the forehead when he arrived, and it would be the same when the time came to leave. He had sweet visions of Lyudmila’s soft white hand.
He was met in the hall by all three sisters. They loved to sit by the window and look out into the street, so they had seen him coming. In their pretty dresses, they surrounded him in a wild whirlwind of merriment, filling the room with their noisy bird-like chatter. Immediately he felt at ease with them.
‘Here’s my mysterious hero!’ Lyudmila joyfully exclaimed.
Sasha kissed her hand graciously and with much pleasure. Then he kissed Darya’s and Valeriya’s hands (he couldn’t very well leave them out), which he also found highly agreeable. All the more so since all three replied by kissing him on the cheek: Darya’s kiss was noisy but impersonal, as though she were kissing a blank wall; Valeriya kissed him tenderly, lowered her crafty eyes and giggled as she barely touched him with her gentle eager lips: to Sasha it was as if apple blossom had fallen on his cheek, light and fragrant; Lyudmila’s kiss was firm, noisy and uninhibited.
‘He’s my guest,’ Lyudmila announced determinedly. Then she led him off to her room.
Darya immediately lost her temper. ‘If he’s yours, then go and kiss him!’ she angrily shouted. ‘You’ve a real treasure there! No one’s going to steal him from you.’
Valeriya smiled and said nothing. It couldn’t be very interesting talking to a young boy like that! What could he possibly understand?
Lyudmila’s room was spacious and cheerful and very light because of two large windows overlooking the garden, flimsily curtained in yellow tulle. The chairs and armchairs were covered in golden-yellow chintz with a barely distinguishable white pattern. Everything was neat and bright and a sweet smell of perfume hung in the air. There were different kinds of bottles and phials of perfume, toilet water, little jars, ornamental boxes, fans and a few Russian and French novels.
The Little Demon Page 18