Wonderful. Minus the night. Although to be honest, what could happen at night? Whether Dr. Norwood was some kind of cheerful partygoer, or a Casanova who doesnt miss a single skirt, much less such outstanding tits, or at least a lover of night walks arm in arm with his assistant, its a different matter. But you can hardly count on communication with this cracker outside of working hours.
Hopelessly. Hopelessly.
Charlotte, I asked, quickly wiping away a treacherous tear, lets go home.
Go, you know how, she responded. I pulled back the invisible curtain and stepped
***
Unlike quick breakfasts, Charlotte didnt bother with dinners. No stock of food in the magical analogue of the refrigerator, not even some yesterday's soup.
The person I was before preferred to buy ready-made, Charlotte explained. Easier. She had enough money, but she didnt like to tinker in the kitchen.
I dont like it either, although in this we are similar. So, explain what and how you are doing here.
I examined the contents of her now my purse back at lunch; there was a wallet, in it unfamiliar coins and a thick pack of plastic cards. Two bank ones and a bunch of bonus ones. By the way, I received a free lunch for employees by presenting my key fob. More precisely, by applying it to the identification plate at the checkout. Comfortable. But they didnt serve dinner in the academic canteen.
Order here, the ghost chose a card with a delicious picture of pizza. You're hungry, and they have fast delivery. Just pick it up and think about the menu, a communication window will open.
What can I say its more convenient than the phone and even the Internet! I chose a large pizza with mushrooms and a salad, added fruit juice to my order, and at the last moment added beer. I dont like him too much, but its a shame to end up in another world and not be able to compare? Moreover, there may be very little time for comparison.
Thoughts turned to the professor. While I very much doubted that I would be able not only to make him fall in love with me, but even to fall in love myself. He didnt evoke any disgust or rejection, but he didnt evoke any positive emotions either. Demanding, corrosive boss. He nitpicks over little things. Hes not rude, but honestly, it would be better to be rude! If I had been a little more impressionable, his chillingly polite remarks could have brought me to tears. Noticeably distances himself. This is reasonable behavior for a boss, but it makes my task even more impossible. As if it werent already almost impossible!
Just one day and even in my thoughts I call this cracker exclusively a professor! An amazing start to a romantic love story.
Tell about him.
Youve already seen it, it seems, this was an objection. Or surprise? In general, I understood that the ghost considers the information given out in the morning to be exhaustive and is not eager to repeat it.
What kind of person is he? I decided to be persistent in the end, my life or death may well depend on the exact answer! The world's luminary understandable. Head of the department I've seen enough today. But if you put the scientist, the boss and the teacher aside, what remains? It is not the doctor and the professor who should fall in love, but Dougal Norwood. And the doctor and professor did not inspire me either. Maybe the person will be more interesting.
Charlotte froze, perhaps even froze in place, as if plunged into deep thought. It looked, frankly, scary. Not only is it a ghost, but also a motionless ghost in the middle of a nice little kitchen, flooded with sunset light from the windows.
Hey! I couldnt stand it. Are you still here?
Its strange, she finally woke up, floated across the kitchen and hovered by the window. The man Dougal Norwood is not in Charlotte's memories. Doctor, luminary, boss, man, but all this is very general, schematic. Dislikes public speaking, students, almost everyone, with rare exceptions, open doors and tea. It seems that's it.
Few. Actually, practically nothing: I already understood about the doors, but inviting the professor to tea well, its already clear that its a failed idea. What does he like?
Brew potions. But this is already clear, Charlotte paused, as if she was listening to something or really carefully examining the living memory of who she was before. Silence. Your own personal laboratory. Still a mother. Yes, Mrs. Norwood comes here often, I remember something like this Lemon cinnamon pudding. The last time Charlotte ordered in advance was in London.
Hopeless, I thought for the hundredth time. Even if he is not a mamas boy, but just a man who loves his mother, it doesnt matter. Worst competition ever. Especially if the man is one of those married to his work.
Sydney.
No. I'll try to find out more. Need time. Can you cope here without me?
How can we cope? Dinner will be brought. I'll find a bedroom.
Fine. Charlotte disappeared again, like yesterday in the ritual room. And I suddenly thought that I didnt even know where her front door was, let alone open it. And she went looking. And in general look around.
It is unlikely that Charlotte was particularly neat I did not notice that special, ideally symmetrical order that is achieved only by boring pedantry. A winter coat was still hanging in the hallway, and closed shoes were next to sandals. But the cleanliness reigned in perfection of course, if it can be achieved with a wave of the hand. Millions of housewives will envy them with black envy
The front door opened with a light touch, although it was locked I heard a quiet click of the lock. The door, by the way, was unusual, although in London you can sometimes see such in old houses. With a square viewing window covered with a bronze grille and a bronze door knocker, polished to a red shine, in the form of a coiled dragon. But I didnt find a bell, a very ordinary doorbell. What is it guests are knocking here? And how, I wonder, can you hear from the second floor?
From the outside, the cottage looked like a fairy tale house. The red brick was barely visible through the green ivy and blooming climbing roses, white and deep scarlet. The small front garden is full of flowers tall mallows, bright multi-colored phlox, a Chinese lilac bush, asparagus lace and bluish hosta leaves, lush petunias and nasturtiums in flowerpots floating in the air without any noticeable support Magic? For some reason I couldnt believe that Charlotte had created such beauty herself. Very thoughtful combinations of colors, the work of a garden designer is visible. And how to take care of all this? It seems that, in addition to watering, you need some kind of fertilizing? I'll have to ask. In a week, if
The sun was falling behind the hilly horizon. The scarlet sunset evoked thoughts that were very far from optimistic. So where is the vaunted fast delivery? I returned to the house in irritation.
The order was waiting on the table in the living room. Pizza, fruit drink, beer. Advertising booklet. What, no couriers? What about payment? Okay, questions can be put off until Charlotte returns. I'll go find a glass. I'll be drinking booze down my throat in a week. Not earlier.
The beer turned out to be unusual, with an islandy-bitter aftertaste. But it pleasantly coated the tongue, was cold and softly hit the head what else do you need, one wonders, in another world, in someone elses house and with a piece of hot pizza in your hand. But it ended unexpectedly quickly, so I went to explore the second floor only with pizza it was definitely tastier than anything I had tried before, impossible to put down, as they say in the advertisement. And why didnt I order two at once? Although whos stopping you from repeating it tomorrow?
On the second floor, in addition to Charlottes bedroom and the guest room, there was a rather strange room, which, apparently, was intended as an office with a library. But Charlotte's entire library consisted of a stack of glossy magazines and several romance novels in paperback, travel format books that you wouldn't mind forgetting on the train. As for the office, it seems that she fulfilled and exceeded the daily work quota during the day, and preferred to relax at home. But how to relax I looked in confusion at a piece of floor about two by two yards, covered with something like rubber stitched with metal. For some reason there was no desire to attack there. What could it be? Whatever! From a treadmill to a magical version of some hellish computer shooter. ? black matte wall opposite? Very similar to the screen of a turned off TV or laptop! Not counting the size if this is really a screen, then it will be of the mega-cool home theater class.
To enable or not to enable? the last piece of pizza went into my stomach with pleasant satiety, and I waved my hand: ?, tomorrow!
The screen lit up.
Tomorrow we will have a pleasant sunny day, the announcer said. Her trouser suit, azure with a turquoise tint, would do justice to the trends of the season, and her smile would serve as an excellent advertisement for some advanced magical dentistry. No precipitation, northwest wind, from weak to moderate. Air temperature at night
To hell with the weather, I said gloomily. After all, I wasnt going to turn it on at all! Although now at least it is clear that this is a TV, and not some
event poster? asked the doll-announcer.
Turn off. I have to go to work.
I got there and Im arguing with the TV! What's next? Will the washing machine enslave me, or what replaces them here? By the way, you should check your wardrobe. It looks like a closet in the bedroom.
The TV turned off as soon as I stepped beyond the threshold of the room. Apparently, before this happy moment, he hoped that I would change my mind
The closet was bursting with a wide variety of clothes. But, in the best tradition of jokes, my first reaction was a classic feminine one:
Theres nothing to wear!
Charlotte clearly spared no expense on the latest fashionable items. Although I had a hard time imagining how they would fit with the chilly autumn weather: slush, rain and fog. Short flared skirts and open sundresses, tight T-shirts and tops. A dozen cocktail and evening dresses too open, provocatively revealing. Everything is bright, evoking thoughts of the beach, dance parties and even dates. Yes, probably this fuchsia color should suit me I held the dress to me and nodded approvingly, looking in the mirror. Or that cornflower blue one But, my God, not for work!
Trousers were conditionally suitable for work conditionally, because I would have preferred black or neutral beige, rather than the red-brown ones I was wearing today, or the bright blue, olive and crimson ones hanging in the closet. Raspberry pants! Nightmare!
And not a single one, NOT ONE! Classic blouse. Not white or anything like that.
Yes, if you show up at the department in this crimson horror and sticking beacon Its surprising that the professor is only hiding behind a newspaper, in his place I would probably crawl under the table.
Decidedly going downstairs to the bonus cards scattered all over the table, I found a business card of either an atelier or a boutique I didnt even bother to look into it. She squeezed, desperately thinking about a strict work outfit black trousers of a classic cut, a white blouse fitted, tailored to the figure, but closed and modest.
It jerked as if someone had roughly pulled my hand. And I ended up apparently still in the studio. A rack with fabric samples, a display case with buttons, lace, fasteners
And either the hostess or the master, plump, at first glance, attractive to me, who smiled affably at me and asked with frank curiosity:
Miss Blair? What's wrong?! So suddenly and so strikingly different from your usual orders!
I want to impress a man with certain tastes, I answered honestly. It is always better to hide the big truth, putting forward a small and not the most important part of it
Oh-oh-oh I understand! Now well dress you up, Miss Blair, no doubt, the chosen one will be impressed and smitten.
Oh yes, Im smitten, I thought gloomily. Meanwhile, I found myself standing on the same platform from which I almost shied away from at home and opposite, another Charlotte Blair wove out of thin air. Like in a mirror, but three-dimensional. And already on her materialized the same blouse I had presented and black formal trousers a little narrower than I wanted, but they emphasized her figure so well that I could not resist and nodded.
We need to change the top, the master shook her head (still a master? And what a shame, I have no idea how to address her, but Charlotte probably knows!). Like this, look.
The darts at the waist lengthened, and the blouse fit exactly to the figure, almost the same shape as all of Charlotte's beacons. The turn-down collar was replaced by a stand-up collar, the top buttons were not a cutout, but as if in a hurry, they simply werent fastened all the way. The strict style has become defiantly sexy. No, its not suitable for work But I couldnt refuse.
Great, but a strict classical one is also needed.
Strict classical ones can be very different, the master smiled. Let's see what suits you best.
The next hour no less! we went through the styles. In the end, my eyes were filled with ruffles, inserts, embroideries, brooches But the main thing is that I really couldnt choose! Almost everything looked simply wonderful. Even immediately excluding models with lots of lace and puffy collars, I was literally torn. Until she mentally waved her hand: Charlottes account did not allow for such excesses, she said that day: Manage your money boldly, Charlotte never lived only on her salary. My father has his own business, he paid for all major expenses. Although the salary at the Panacea Academy is significant, even for an assistant.
The bell above the front door rang melodiously, and she stepped inside I didnt dare call her a middle-aged woman, more like a fairy. Light, thin, in an airy dark gray dress, so elegant and at the same time surprisingly simple that you cant help but fall in love. Light wavy strands spilled out of a lush bun and framed a thin, beautiful face. And no makeup, I thought enchanted, but she looks amazing. Everyone would do that. Magic? How old is she really? A little over forty?
Im sorry, Grisella, I saw that you were still open. Good evening. Shall I interfere? the fairy woman looked at me with eyes as amazing as all of her clear, bright, as if sunny, and suddenly smiled softly. Miss Blair. What an unexpected meeting.
Miss Norwood! the master exclaimed in amazement, turning around. Sabella, dear, how long have you been gone! Come on in, don't stand on the threshold. Cup of coffee? Tea? Its always open for you, you know.
Norwood?! Really oh my God, the dry-haired professor has such a mother?! Or is it my sister?
Good evening, I answered as neutrally as possible, so as not to betray my ignorance. It sounded warm it was impossible not to smile in response to the smile of this amazing woman, who was endearing at first glance. Ive already chosen everything, so
And she stammered in confusion. Politeness required assuring that no, you wont interfere in any way, and in general its time for me to go, but to leave when the opportunity to find out something about the professor almost falls from the sky?! Even if the journalists habits didnt resist, Im not such a fool! But also to impose on communication, not knowing everything that Charlotte probably knows