“How interesting.” He looked at Dina seriously, but the embarrassment and fluster remained, barely hidden by his smile. “Could we continue with this topic after a short discussion regarding a burning question?”
“I’m listening,” said Dina.
“We can go to the movies, or we can go to the cafe. Hmm… We can also go to the movies and then the cafe.”
“The third option, if you don’t mind.”
Konstantin Konstantinovich laughed and looked at his student even more carefully. He took the tickets out of his chest pocket and taking Dina smoothly under his arm, headed to the entrance.
“We have ten minutes to go to the snack bar. Would you like anything to eat?” he asked.
“No, thank you, I’m full,” replied Dina. “But if you’d like…”
Konstantin Konstantinovich smiled. “I’m full too. Besides, we have dinner waiting for us afterwards. You have nothing against the Rainbow?”
“No, nothing,” said Dina.
What else could she have said? Students like Dina, who lived on a study allowance, did not frequent cafes and restaurants, unless it was for someone’s birthday when they all chipped in, or for a classmate’s wedding, which were occurring more and more often towards the end of university.
They walked to their seats at the very center of the room. Konstantin Konstantinovich pulled down the seat for Dina and sat down himself. He sat, almost facing Dina, and looked at her with a smile.
“So, we had stopped on your style. You believe that a woman must be punctual and true to her word?”
“I believe that everyone should be punctual and true to their word,” replied Dina, staring straight ahead.
She observed the people passing by, the new, painted curtain that had replaced the old plush fabric, and the stylish lamps, for the cinema had reopened only recently after renovations.
“How about female weaknesses and foibles?” Persisted Konstantin Konstantinovich.
“Well, to each his own, I guess.”
“You don’t like it.”
“No, I don’t.”
“What do you like, then?”
“Me? Naturalness.”
“And directness.”
“And directness.”
“So, is it possible to live like this?”
“Yes.”
“Isn’t it difficult?”
“On the contrary, it’s very easy.”
“Really?” her teacher asked, still smiling.
Then the lights grew dimmer, and the noise from spectators, getting comfortable and hurrying to find their seat, grew louder. Dina’s companion leaned close to her ear and whispered:
“You have roused my curiosity. May we continue this conversation later?”
Dina turned towards him. The cinema screen began to glow. Her teacher’s face was very close in the gathering darkness and looked especially striking – the symmetrical, strong facial features were emphasized by the light falling from one side and reflecting in his eyes, as well as the very attentive but gentle and thrilling gaze, and the slightly parted, smiling lips.
“We may,” said Dina and turned back to the screen, but she could see Konstantin Konstantinovich watching her, out of the corner of her eye.
She calmly met his gaze. He smiled again, then turned to face the screen.
Later in the Evening
They reached the doors to the Rainbow Cafe by squeezing through a large crowd wishing to get inside. It was the most popular cafe among young intellectuals, and it always had live music and a lack of free seats.
Even when the crowd realized that these two were not rudely skipping the line but that the doorman had gestured at them in welcome, perhaps as they had reserved a table or for another reason, the desperate crowd did not deign to part and let the lucky pair through.
Dina and Konstantin Konstantinovich approached the cloak room, and he took the lady’s coat, then took off his own and handed them to the attendant.
Dina was fixing her hair in front of the mirror, and saw her teacher approaching and adjusting his thick, wavy black hair, running first one hand and then the other through them like a comb, and smoothing his jacket. Yet he was looking at Dina as he performed all these actions.
Dina turned to Konstantin Konstantinovich. “You were so sure that I would come with you to the cafe?”
He smiled and said, trying to sound playful, “No, I wasn’t. I wasn’t even sure if you would come at all.”
“But you bought the tickets and reserved a table at the café… I suppose you could sell the tickets to someone else, but the cafe doesn’t refund the deposit.”
Still smiling, Konstantin Konstantinovich looked down. “If you had not come, nothing else would have upset me further.” He glanced up again. “To hell with the money that I would have lost.”
Dina noted again how changeable this man’s face was, and how such a simple movement of facial muscles could create so many different smiles.
She stared at her teacher in silence, as if trying to discern if he was telling the truth or just prattling.
It appeared that Konstantin Konstantinovich did not know the answer himself. His face showed a mixture of curiosity about his remarkable student, whom he had known for three years and yet, as it suddenly turned out, he did not know at all, and disconcertion before her disarming frankness, as well as tension caused by his desire to not lose this mask of a frivolous fop, and the fear that it was the mask that would repulse this girl, who refused to play games and talk insincerities.
* * *
They were shown to the only free table, which stood in the prime location with a Reserved sign, by the huge window that revealed the glowing lights of the city. The table was also a good place from where to see the stage with a five-person vocal-instrumental ensemble.
Dina sat down on the chair that Konstantin Konstantinovich had pulled out for her. He sat opposite, continuing to observe his companion with unconcealed interest.
An elegant, sharply dressed man approached the table.
Seeing him, Konstantin Konstantinovich stood up and extended his hand:
“Hello, Misha! Let me introduce you: Dina… Dina Alexandrovna. Mikhail Anatolievich.”
“Good evening. Pleased to meet you,” said Mikhail Anatolievich, then quietly asked Konstantin Konstantinovich, “Any special requests?”
“I’ll find you if anything,” he replied.
“Certainly. Enjoy your evening.” Mikhail Anatolievich nodded to Dina and walked away.
Konstantin Konstantinovich lit the candle in the clear red holder and looked at Dina in embarrassment. “I am currently feeling an overwhelming urge to tell the truth.” He beamed another one of his numerous expressive smiles and dropped his gaze. “I didn’t pay a deposit… my friend, my old classmate, works here as the manager.” He nodded in the direction of the departed Mikhail Anatolievich, and looked at Dina. “Misha, I mean… Thus, this table is always mine.”
“Do you have a friend managing the cinema too?” Smiled Dina.
Konstantin Konstantinovich laughed with relief, finally sensing his companion’s joking tone. “No, I bought the tickets myself. Half an hour before you came.”
“I’ll say this straight up: I can pay for the ticket and dinner myself. Which I will do a bit later, so that I don’t put you in an awkward position,” Dina said quietly but firmly.
“Well, you already have,” Her teacher tried to appear offended.
“Never mind, you’ll get over it.”
“How come? May I ask?”
“Demonstrating my independence.”
“Oh my! This is serious.” Konstantin Konstantinovich rested his chin on his hands and stared at Dina. “You’re becoming more and more interesting by the minute.”
“So are you.”
“Me? Why?”
“And why me?”
“I asked first,” Dina’s companion chuckled.
“All right, I’ll tell you the truth. Although I still need to pass the state examination with you.”
“And defend your thesis!” her teacher pointed out with a cheeky smile. “I am the President of the State Committee at your Faculty… but go on! Nothing ventured, as they say.” He cut himself off. “By the way, how about some champagne? It was your last exam today! My treat.” Without waiting for a reply, Konstantin Konstantinovich called a waiter over and ordered a bottle. “So, I am all ears. Why do I surprise you?”
“Do you know what they say about you at university? Among the students, I mean?”
“Hmmm… Not all of it, I bet.” Dina’s teacher stared at her with an attentive and expectant smile.
“What do you know?” asked Dina.
“Oh no! You started it so you ought to continue.”
“All right, I will.” She paused, as if summoning the courage. “Well, they say that by the end of the course there’s no female student left who hasn’t… well, you know.”
Konstantin Konstantinovich covered his face with his hands as he laughed. “Yes, yes, I’ve heard this. However…”
Dina interrupted him. “That’s not all. Half of them are then forced to have abortions.”
“Just one small correction,” Konstantin Konstantinovich interrupted, “no bimbos… They also say that I have a child in every year level.”
“I don’t find this funny.” Dina looked serious.
“Well, it depends,” He stopped laughing and looked at Dina. “So what do you find surprising?”
“What I heard about you does not match what I am seeing right now.”
“Really? What doesn’t match?”
“Firstly, you’re not such an idiot…”
Konstantin Konstantinovich chortled. “Well, well! An idiot, but not a complete idiot! Why, thank you!”
“Don’t interrupt me,” Dina rebuked him. “You’re intelligent and have a good sense of humor.”
“One can’t look at beautiful girls with these attributes?”
“One can look, I suppose, but not at every single one…”
The waiter arrived at this moment and began removing the two extra sets of cutlery, and arranging the appetizers on the table.
“Is it OK if I smoke?” asked Konstantin Konstantinovich, as he continued to stare at Dina with the same bewildered and surprised expression on his face.
“Yes, of course.”
“You do not approve of my lifestyle then?” he asked once the waiter had left.
“What do you think?”
Dina lowered her eyes and began inspecting her pearly nails shimmering in the candlelight. She felt awkward as it sounded like she was lecturing her teacher, who was a grown man and free to live the way he wants.
“I am beginning to fear that you came on this date with only one goal, and that is to lead me back onto the right path. Hmmm?”
“Oh dear,” thought Dina. “Now I’ve gone too far."
“No, that’s not true.” She stumbled over her words a little, but immediately regained her composure. “I came because I like you.” She was silent for a short time as if gathering her courage again. “The more I speak with you, the more interesting you become.” She looked up at him.
Surprise flashed across her teacher’s face, and he kept staring at Dina.
“Just don’t think that it will be the same with me as with all the other girls. You didn’t invite me to the movies and to dinner just for nothing, right?” Dina continued.
“No,” Konstantin Konstantinovich replied gravely.
“Well, you won’t get anywhere.”
“Get where?”
“Anywhere.”
“Can we have dinner at least?” He smiled. “I’m starving.”
Dina felt the tension drain away from his easy transition from a serious to joking tone, and said:
“Yes, we can have dinner.”
“Shall we start then? Bon appetit.”
“Bon appetit.”
They began eating their salads.
Konstantin Konstantinovich suddenly stopped. “Oh! The champagne! Where is our champagne?” he called to the waiter.
The waiter apologized and immediately returned with a bottle in an ice bucket, opened it in one smooth movement, with only a short hissing pop and some light smoke from the cork, and filled their glasses, again wishing them a pleasant meal.
Konstantin Konstantinovich lifted his glass. “To you, Dina… Aleksandrovna. Congratulations on completing fourth year.”
“Thank you, Konstantin Konstantinovich.” Dina took a sip of the sparkling wine and placed the glass back on the table.
Konstantin Konstantinovich continued to devour his salad and very soon finished it all, even picking up the crumbs. Dina ate a little lazily, as if she was not hungry at all.
“Do you smoke?” asked Konstantin Konstantinovich, taking out a cigarette.
“Sometimes,” said Dina.
He extended a packet of Capital cigarettes towards her. “Please.”
Without replying, Dina took a flat brown packet of imported ladies’ cigarettes from her handbag, took one out, and brought it to her lips.
Konstantin Konstantinovich, expressing admiration by kinking his eyebrow, lit a match for her.
Dina smoked by barely inhaling and releasing the smoke as an impressive thin trickle that drifted upwards.
Music started playing as the musicians returned to the stage after a break. They were all quite young, with slightly longer hair than what was allowed by the unwritten rules for Komsomol youth – and there was no other kind of youth in the country – but musicians were probably permitted these liberties, in order to create a stage image. Two of them had handlebar mustaches, with a pair of tinted Diplomat glasses perched on the nose of one, while one of the clean-shaven guys was wearing skin-tight, white, completely white, pants. Jeans were only starting to become fashionable and were a rarity, accessible only to the “golden youth,” who found money who knows where for foreign clothes and expensive restaurants. White jeans were exceedingly exotic.
“We hadn’t finished our conversation,” said Konstantin Konstantinovich when Dina looked away from the stage and began to extinguish her cigarette in the ashtray.
She glanced in surprise at her companion.
“Have you said everything that you wanted to say about my person?”
“Yes, everything,” Dina replied.
“Let me summarize. I am an idiot.”
“Stop, that’s not what I wanted to say.” Dina tried to interrupt Konstantin Konstantinovich.
“Wait, wait, wait!” he waved at her. “I am an idiot, but, luckily, not a complete idiot. I’m a womanizer. An incurable womanizer, it seems. On the other hand, I appear to have some rudiments of intellect and a good sense of humor. This is what surprised you the most.” He looked at Dina with a smile.
Dina lowered her eyes to her plate and inspected the green pea stuck on her fork: when and why did she do that?
“Why are you silent now? That’s exactly what you said to me.”
She looked at Konstantin Konstantinovich and said firmly, “All right. That’s exactly what I said.”
“Well, then,” he laughed. “Does that mean that I have grown a little in your eyes?”
“I suppose.”
“Excellent! From this moment on, I will do everything in my power to if not score more points, at least avoid losing the ones I’ve gained.” He picked up his glass. “Hmmm?”
Dina raised her glass in silence.
“Well, then,” repeated her teacher. “Now it is my turn to express my surprise. May I?”
“Please,” replied Dina.
“Can I be honest?”
“As much as is possible for you.”
Konstantin Konstantinovich chuckled at these words and continued, “I understood that you were clever over the three years that I have been teaching your group. I only began to realize that you are beautiful, today, at the exam.”
“You’re joking,” Dina interrupted.
Konstantin Konstantinovich shook his head in disagreement. “And I am further persuaded with every passing minute.” His voice changed and started to vibrate slightly with emotion.
“Don’t,” Dina spoke up in the short pause. “I’m far from Rimma Yakovleva and those other beauties.”
Konstantin Konstantinovich got himself under control and continued, “You have correctly pointed out about the beauties. A ‘beauty’ and a beautiful woman are two different things. Didn’t you know?”
Dina started examining her nails again, now trying to get her flustered emotions under control.
“Indeed, you weren’t one of those beauties, at least, according to my classification. I saw in you a bookworm, a bluestocking, and a future career woman.”