I hope you haven't got more bad habits. the blonde smiled.
That's another question. and the man widely opened the door before the last guest. Please, come in.
She had come frightening. But then she cheered up. The corridor shone and seemed different. Repairing had been finished recently and all around, walls and the floor and furniture were neat and pleased an eye.
The blonde looked around. The hall was decorated with taste. Re-planning was available. Initially it was the two-roomed apartment but the wall was removed and she stood in the middle of the huge hall. Near the entrance door there was a leather sofa, deep armchairs and a coffee table. The conditioning was unusual.
At the window there was a desk with a computer on it, two phones and a fax. The chair had been moved up closely, the monitor was off, as the phones. It was the beginning to nine.
The working day of the secretary was over.
The woman had taken off a service jacket and stayed in a snow-white sweater. The man helped her to put her service jacket between the man's cashmere coats, one was more dark, another brighter, the female leather jacket which had been shabby enough was somewhere between. The girl's short jacket was lonely hanging closer to an entrance door. Her bag was there too.
Don't take off the shoes. said the man.
But I think you will give us special slippers as at the hospital. said the platinum blonde sarcastically.
That's not a hospital. the man softly noticed.
And what is it? A clinic? the woman did not stop asking.
Does it look like? he smiled.
No, but
The woman had shaken curls. Eventually, she had already come. Thats why to turn and leave would be silly. There were two doors before her. The glass one was on the right and the big, massive, red door on the left. That door had been opened.
And where should I go? she asked.
To the left.
Well, of course! To the left! the blonde burst out laughing. I like to go to the left!
The joke was stupid but the man didn't respond it. When the woman was ready to come he firmly stopped her:
One moment.
What is it? she looked back.
Do you know the rules? Were you warned?
The rules? What rules?
Of course, that's not a hospital. But we have got rules. During the session all mobile phones must be off.
Yes, yes, I understand. the woman nodded and looked into her handbag.
It is for your convenience. the man said. It is impossible to concentrate when in a pocket there is a mobile phone. It's a temptation, do you agree?
A temptation? the blonde wondered playing with a tiny mobile phone. I don't understand.
You will contact somebody and interrupt us. It means that the confidential atmosphere created with such work will be destroyed.
What do you offer? the woman asked impatiently.
Put your phone here and shut it off. and the man added her mobile to six other phones in a box of the desk. He closed the box and said.
Now you are welcome.
She opened a massive door and entered.
Here she is the last! exclaimed the man with delight. His sight was condemning.
Excuse me. the woman murmured.
The others kept silent. The pretty girl nervously wound a twisted lock on her finger, the man sitting next to her turned away to the window.
Well? Shall we begin? asked the man who after the platinum blonde entered the room.
It was a big area in twenty and a half square meters, spacious, not full of furniture. At a window dense heavy curtain, light not bright. That room was in the dark colors. Everyone felt a light grief of withering and tranquility there.
The low armchairs color was hardly dark than the color of the wall-papers. They were transformers. It was possible to change easily a position of an armrest, lower it or, on the contrary making them comfortable. Thus they were not heavy and it was easy to move them without an effort more close to the window or in the center. The blonde had counted eight armchairs. Two were empty. The woman understood that one of the armchairs was hers.
Here we spend our sessions. said the man. And he had noticed that the blonde uncertainly looked back, came to her and softly touched her hand. As you are here for the first time, I would like to introduce you to people.
He looked at the impatient man and said:
This is Sergey. Here we avoid surnames and age. We try not to mention an occupation. This theme is forbidden. Your address, the name of the street you live in, the number of your house all these are not important. Well.
The man nodded and rose from an armchair saying.
I am Sergey.
Close to him is Vsevolod.
The man who had arrived by "BMW" of the third model and who looked like Sergey stood up and said.
You may call me Seva.
He had dark sad eyes, very beautiful, big with long eyelashes but the face features were small and his hair rose up in the ridiculous hedgehog even after the skilful hairdresser.
"How old is each?" thought the blonde. She watched them sitting next to.
"May be they are the same age. Both are a little over forty. And they are well familiar with each other".
The man indifferently looking out of the window turned back and with a wide smile said.
I am Arthur.
Glad to meet you. the platinum blonde smiled in the answer. Among all men in the room, including the owner, he was the youngest and the most handsome. Very handsome! Everybody paid attention to that fact.
Close to Arthur, on the right Zhanna.
The girl nodded. The platinum blonde looked at her with dignity. She was very pretty. The figure was slim, the waist was thin, the legs were long and probably she did not keep on any diets!
How lucky she was! Someone got everything from birth and for someone it was a hard work! To break legs wearing very high heels to seem taller! The blonde felt as her legs began to hurt. She wanted to sit down and smoke.
And this is Lida. the owner introduced the nice woman, a bit plump with smoothly combed chestnut hair. She was simple and lovely. Her name was Lydia but shortly Lida.
No need to be afraid of her." thought the platinum blonde. She was that type of women who always and everywhere fought for the attention of men.
Close to her Vera.
The woman who had arrived by the old car and parked slowly, stood up and nodded. She was the other type of women: the business woman. Not a business-lady or an owner of a company of underwear with her name as a title but the simple worker, who worked all night long so hard that almost hadn't time for the private life. Not the secretary, a rank above. The average rank.
Her clothes were simple but comfortable. Her eyes were red like with the person who a lot of time spent at a computer. As most people she had contact lenses. But eyes looked tired because of them. The platinum blonde noticed everything and greeted her unwillingly. Well, that happened. May be she would look better dressed- up with the make-up
Well. the man looked round.And then addressed to the woman standing at a loss.
I think you should introduce yourself, shouldn't you?
Okay. she shook her curls and said proudly.
I am Angelica.
Wonderful! Arthur shouted. What a nice name!
It suits you. said the kind woman Lida by name.
Thanks, I want to ask. the blonde had hushed up. Are the names real here? I am not sure
And she stopped.
Not necessarily. the man calmed her. Here, as at a confession: the main thing is your soul and for God all people are without names. When God gives you life he isn't caring about the name. The man is important. The man who needs help.
And she stopped.
Not necessarily. the man calmed her. Here, as at a confession: the main thing is your soul and for God all people are without names. When God gives you life he isn't caring about the name. The man is important. The man who needs help.
So, Angelica is with us today. Well, you are welcome, sit down.
The platinum blonde sat in an armchair and stretched her legs in narrow, sharp-pointed boots, modern but not comfortable. She asked the owner.
And what is your name? You have got the name, haven't you? How could we all name you?
Yes, I have got. he smiled. I am Ivan.
Vera and Arthur looked at each other. "They knew each other." noticed Angelica.
She became quiet and relaxed.
That was not dangerous. All seemed so normal.
Sergey and Seva looked respectable, Zhanna was naive, Lida was nice and Vera with Arthur looked like businessmen. What problems could these people have? Anyway, there was no danger about them. All of them wanted to speak, communicate.
Ivan sitting in the armchair close to the door addressed to the newcomer.
Angelica, do you want to ask anything before we shall begin?
Yes. Can I smoke here?
Can she smoke here? Ivan looked at the others. Sergey, I know that you smoke.
So.
Does it mean that you are not against?
I am not.
I agree. responded Seva. It seemed he would agree with everything Sergey said. I don't mind.
But I do. exclaimed Lida. I do not smoke myself and I do not like when somebody smokes close.
I do not smoke either. Zhanna disagreed. But I have got used. I do not approve but also I do not object.
I smoke. Vera complained about herself. I try to give up. But I can't.
And I even do not try. Arthur smiled cheerfully. I do not smoke. But for me it doesnt matter whether you smoke or not.
So, we shall sum up. said Ivan. Angelica, Sergey and Vera smoke. Zhanna, Seva and Arthur do not smoke but do not object. Lida does not smoke and objects. But you, Lida, in this case in minority.
And you? she looked straight at him.
I am neutral. I am always neutral. You should obey.
Well. Lida nodded. Smoke.
"It is necessary to finish with the Tower." she thought. "This time I shall come into trouble, no need to appear here anymore. It is too hard."
I shall give you ashtrays. Sergey rose. The conditioning is good here but we shall not smoke much. Relax.
He came to the wall and took from a shelf of the unit a pair of the light silver ashtrays. He said smiling:
I will take this. he weighed the third ashtray in the hand. It was massive, made of dark glass and obviously did not match on style to other things in the room.
Well, the best for the ladies, the rest for the men.
He gave Angelica and Vera the ashtrays, then returned to his armchair and got out a pack of cigarettes. Ivan watched everybody smoking. The pause lasted for about a minute then he said.
So, today we have got the next session of psychotherapy. Shall we begin?
Nobody was against. And he added.
Who wants to speak?
Robinson's Solo"
The pause was long. Ivan kept silent. Аngelica smoked with pleasure, Vera persistently looked in an ashtray which was on the armrest of her armchair, Seva looked at Sergey, Arthur in window Then people in armchairs began to exchange glances.
Well, be brave. Ivan said. I remind you: everything that happens here won't be open for public. The newcomer?
I don't want to be the first. Angelica protested.
I see: you should look around. Who wishes to tell us about the problems? I shall open you my small secret: I have got an interesting solution. With it I shall help you to get rid of the fears. In the next room, behind the door which is at my back, there is a surprise.
What surprise? Lida asked curiously. We did not agree!
Do not worry. Ivan smiled. It is not painful. Sessions of psychotherapy are absolutely not painful. Its better to say they are pleasant. About money we are not going to speak now but I am sure time comes. And time is paid by you. So
I am ready to speak. and Sergey stopped to smoke.
Lida and Vera looked at him with surprise. Sergey had caught these sights and said.
I know it surprises you. I seemed shy. Well I had just listened. But sooner or later there comes the moment when you are ready. Now I am ready to speak.
Nobody objects. Seva muttered.
So, Sergey wants to speak. Ivan looked around. Please. We listen to you attentively.
Sergey nervously took one more cigarette from the pack and began to smoke. Lida was not glad about it but kept silent. After a little pause Sergey at last said.
How to begin? That is the question. As a rule it is better from the beginning. Excuse me, I am nervous. I repeat. Everything around weather, yes. Today the weather is disgusting.
That was a long pause.
Yes, March in this year is surprisingly cold. Vera supported him.
It seems that the spring will never come. Lida added quietly. All men and Zhanna were silent. Аngelica smoked.
Weather is disgusting. Sergey summed up. So, we have talked about the weather, what else? I cannot concentrate. Excuse me, I must be more talkative. Lets begin. I was born forty two years ago in the city of Moscow, in the street Yes, I remember the rulesThis street is in the City centre. My mum I think that won't be any secret if I shall tell you that my mum has worked all her life as the teacher at school without specification of a subject which she taught. We lived in a municipal apartment. To be sure, in a two-roomed apartment. One room was bigger and the kitchen was neither large nor small. Two tables and two cupboards and a stove were there. The relatives bought the refrigerator for the kitchen. It was so long ago. That was my childhood. We with mum lived in the big room and in the small one lived the aunt Without names, I remember.
He continued to smoke. Ivan didnt say anything but his sight became suddenly so sharp as if he wanted to pin Sergey to a back of an armchair. Meanwhile Sergey continued.
As for the metric area, it's okay. We did not apply for expansion. Our room was very big. Why are you looking at me? Yes, there are such big rooms in the center in the old apartments. Of course, we with mum would like to live in a separate apartment. But I forgot to say the aunt was ten years elder than my mum and she had a diabetes. It is a shame to speak about it but we thought she would die earlier than in general you have understood me. And such apartment in the center you know how much it costs. Mum who was born in an old city doesn't want to move.
And the aunt the aunt was ill, never married, had neither the husband nor children. The lonely, sick woman We signed the contract about trusteeship. Without any details, such contract as we look after her and her room after her death comes to us. It is disgusting! he said suddenly. It is disgusting to be interested in someone's death! This woman became to me a close relative! Mum worked all day long earning money alone and it was hard. She wanted to give me a good education. But the aunt While mum went on private lessons, the aunt warmed up meal for me, met me from school and then from the institute, mended my socks, ironed shirts. And after that I wished her death! It is disgusting! he repeated again and got one more cigarette from the pack.