Laces of Love, page 22
Dunya's belly was getting bigger and finally had reached the size when it was difficult for the maid to perform proper duties, so she dared to hurry Arina,
“Arina Danilovna, it is difficult for me to come to your house every day, I am barely able to climb the stairs to the second floor. Pay me off and look for a substitute.”
“Alright, Dunyasha, I will. I just got used to you during so many years; it is a pity to part...”
“It is alright, my lady, I will visit you, we will certainly be seeing each other again.”
Arina put on a warm shawl and headed for outside,
“I will go to the Golovanov Publishing House; maybe I can get something interesting to read.”
“Oh, madam, you are scoring your head with scholarship in vain...” Dunia grumbled.
“You shouldn’t say so, Dunia. My father hired a teacher for me, so I would learn about reading and writing. How would I cope with the business now? I also have to pay off suppliers for goods. Or do you also think that I should get married?”
“Oh, Arina Danilovna, I will not say anything. You know yourself what to do with your life.”
“That is right,” the lady agreed.
“But I will not let you go to publishing house alone. It seems to be close, but I know that you will go on foot and won’t take the carriage. And it is not good for you, an unmarried girl, to walk all alone in this part of the city. Alright, I will go with you,” Dunyasha decided.
Arina, accompanied by the maid, left the house and headed towards the Golovanov Publishing House. It was a fine April day; Easter day and the Red Hill[22] were coming. The sun was shining brightly and the windows of the city houses were reflecting its rays.
Young men on their way were bowing to Arina. Needless to say, the rumors about her mysterious fiancé excited the interest of all Stromynka inhabitants. However, time passed, and no one had seen him yet.
Suddenly, right before the Golovanov Publishing House, a red-faced woman looked out of a passing carriage. Arina recognized Darya Dmitrievna. She silently glanced at Arina, then at Dunyasha, especially at her tummy, and drove off further.
Arina noticed the matchmaker's curiosity but she did not think of this circumstance as of something important. But as it turned out later she should not have ignored it.
The girls entered a store of the Publishing House. The salesman recognized Arina immediately.
“Good day, mademoiselle! It has been a long time!”
“Yes, I know. I had no time, a lot of work to do at the baker’s shop.”
“I do not want to upset you, but, alas, there are not any new French novels. However, I would like to bring to your attention the most interesting book “Magical Animals” by Antoine de Benier: beautiful illustrations, many medieval legends and, most importantly, a wonderful font. Reading it is a pure delight!”
Arina took the proposed book and saw fairytale creatures on its pages: dragons, unicorns, snakes, mermaids, and sphinxes.
“How much do I owe you?” she asked.
“Oh, not much, really. The book costs one ruble and fifty kopecks, but since you are our regular customer, for you it is one ruble only.”
Arina took out the money from her purse and paid off the salesman.
“Do you want me to wrap it for you?” he asked.
“Yes, thank you...”
Arina took her purchase and along with Dunyasha left the store.
***
The same day, the carriage of Darya Dmitrievna stopped by the hardware store of merchant Mordasov. She proudly came to the door, straightened her numerous skirts and stepped inside.
A clerk, as usual, was at the counter, and Athanasius was standing just next to him writing something in the accounts book.
“Happy selling, Master!” the guest wished.
Athanasius shivered. He was ready to give the impudent matchmaker a clip behind the ear, but his manners would not allow him to do so.
“How can I help you?” asked the clerk.
The matchmaker, ignoring his assistance, turned directly to the owner,
“Athanasius Nikolayevich, I am here with good news,” she gave the young merchant a conspiratorial look.
He ignored her meaningful look and continued writing something in the accounts book with a pen.
“So... Staples for the door, hinges, door handles...” he muttered to himself.
“Very well, Athanasius Nikolayevich! If you do not want to become the merchant of the third guild, it is your will!” the sly woman blurted.
Athanasius stiffened and gave the matchmaker a long, hard look.
“Let's go, Darya Dmitrievna,” he gestured towards the warehouse.
Entering a tiny room, the matchmaker took the whole space with her puffy skirts and exceeding forms.
“Have a seat.”
The matchmaker sat down on a wooden stool and looked around: it seemed, things with business were not going very well!
“So, my dear Athanasius Nikolayevich...” she, as usual, started with the preface, as the matchmakers shouldn’t speak briefly. “I came to talk about the lady you are interested in. Moreover, I have some certain thoughts regarding this matter.”
“Speak, do not keep me in suspense!” Athanasius was excited and impatient, knowing whom they were going to talk about.
“Certainly, my dear,” the matchmaker said slowly, watching the thrilled merchant with joy.
“Speak, you old snake, or I’ll kick you out!”
“I doubt so!” snapped the impudent woman. “I bet you will pay me money after hearing of what I am going to say... Now, listen: Arina Danilovna’s maid is pregnant and, therefore, she cannot serve in her house anymore.”
“Well, so what?” the merchant did not understand.
“You see, my dear, Arina will have to hire a new maid. And we must ensure that she will hire...” the matchmaker looked at Athanasius with pleasure, savoring every word, “the girl we are going to send her.”
“But if she finds out that the maid is sent by me or you, she will chase her away!”
The matchmaker laughed.
“Of course, she will do it without fail. However, we will instruct the girl, and she will know what to say. Like, she heard from people that Arina needed a maid... and all that. We only need to fabricate the papers, showing that she had been working for a respectable family. People say that Danila, may his soul rest in peace, used to hire staff only with a letter of reference, and not otherwise, as he had been cautious and suspicious. And Arina became like him.”
Athanasius, surprised, looked at the matchmaker, still not understanding the train of her thoughts,
“And how is it useful to me?”
“Oh, Athanasius Nikolayevich, how cannot you understand?” she was surprised with incomprehension of her interlocutor, “The girl will watch Arina, and we will learn the whole truth about her. That is the point!”
The merchant grunted,
“You are a cunning person, matchmaker! Well, let's think about the girl...”
“Just think faster, my dear, before someone is way ahead of you. As you know, there are plenty of those who want to marry money. And I want to get my two hundred rubles in the banknotes.”
“You will get you money, don’t worry!”
***
In the evening, sitting in front of the mirror, as usual, Arina untied the braid and had her hair combed. The golden curls fell on her shoulders and chest like a waterfall of shiny threads. The girl looked at her reflection in the mirror and all her thoughts were about the young draftsman. Why was he drawing her portraits? Who was he and why was he so shy? Was she really looking so unapproachable?
And then she found the answer, “Perhaps, because I ousted all the matchmakers and declined all the candidates who wished to marry me, or rather, my money. I can imagine what those "kind people" told him about me.”
Arina came to her bed, holding a candlestick in her hand, but she did not hurry to sleep. She opened the “Magical Animals” book by Antoine de Benier, newly purchased at the Publisher Store of Golovanov, and started reading,
“Ancient tapestry craftsmen spent many hours trying to recreate the image of a unicorn on fabric. At first, they painted the beast on huge rectangular panels, trying to express the radiant whiteness of the animal and its single spiral horn. They depicted it on the flowering meadows, along the running silver brooks, and then the best masters of Lille and Brussels copied the pattern with the finest wool and silk. Sometimes silver or gold threads were added to decorate composition. Once weavers finished their work and tied the last knots, it turned out to be a real treasure: the beautiful tapestries, worth the most elegant palaces and the most sophisticated public.
Meanwhile, the tapestries were the work of mere villagers and they gave just a rough idea of the nobility and magical power of the unicorn. The artists and the wool winders lived in the towns and villages, none of them would dare to leave the city. None of them had ever seen a living unicorn - the dweller of the faraway mountains or mysterious forests.
Only the adventure seekers could see a unicorn, but they would rarely become artisans. First of all, they were the hunters and tried to catch the strange beast so that it would serve their purposes...”[23]
Arina fell asleep. She got so tired during the day that she no longer had enough strength for a long night reading. The girl saw a magical dream: she was dreaming that she was dressed in a medieval attire sitting at a huge machine tool, and weaving a wonderful, beautiful canvas with a snow-white unicorn depicted on it. Suddenly, the unicorn came to life. Arina mounted on it and they flew away from the workroom. They hovered over the forests, meadows and fields. Arina felt weightless and let the unicorn go. She flew next to him.
***
The next day afternoon, at twelve sharp, an attractive young dark-haired woman entered the bakery. She made an impression of a self-confident person. She approached Glafira, who was serving a couple,
“Excuse me, my dear, may I see your Madam? I have heard she needed a maid...”
Glafira was surprised: the ball comes to the player!
“Have a seat, I will finish with the customers and report to Madam.”
The guest sat down, holding a small purse in her hands. While waiting, she curiously examined the guests' hall, counter, the tables, the curtains and finally Glafira.
The waitress felt the visitor's gaze, “What a strange person... It disturbs me...” But then she got distracted: new visitors entered the baker’s shop.
Shortly, the guest was standing in front of Arina,
“Here are my recommendation documents, Madam,” she handed her a passport and the Letter of Reference.
“You can call me Arina Danilovna...”
Arina looked at the passport: Varvara Ivanovna Zinovyeva, middle class, originally from Moscow, of twenty-five years old. Then she opened the Letter of Recommendation,
“This Letter of Reference is issued to Varvara Ivanovna Zinovieva, a woman of twenty-five years old, in confirmation that she had worked as a maid in the house of merchant Valerian Khlebnikov, in Rybinskaya Street for three years.
Furthermore, this Letter proofs that she served properly with no negative comments addressed to her.
The document was issued by Superintendent Gleb Panfilov.”
The letter was short, but enough for Arina to understand that the applicant was not a slattern.
“Why did you leave your job in the Khlebnikov's house?” asked Arina.
“Arina Danilovna, I have decided to leave because the Master's daughter got married and moved to her husband's house in Lefortovo. Valerian Fyodorovich hired me for his deceased wife, and now the house is empty, as the merchant constantly travels for his trade guild businesses.”
“Well, Khlebnikov is a famous merchant. I am hiring you as a maid. You will live here in the house, let's go, I will show you your room.”
The maid's room was small but clean and cozy. Varvara's predecessor, Dunyasha, lived alone in the room since Glafira had her own house. The new maid unpacked her stuff, put on a white apron and starched cap and was ready to perform her duties.
Chapter 6
Vasily left the Courtroom of the Lefortovo, being in complete disarray: he had to portrait the man who killed his wife and a daughter for a prostitute who had become his lover! He wondered why people loved each other, gave birth to children, and then started hating and even murdering each other.
The young man hired a carriage and went to Stromynka, to the baker’s shop. His thoughts were tangled, every now and then picturing the seductive image of Arina, and then suddenly, the murderer from the Court, who had finally repented of his terrible deed, realizing that he had taken lives of his beloved ones with his own hands.
Vasily opened the folder. The way to Stromynka was not too short and it should take not less than fifty minutes. He looked at the sketches once again: here was the accused, with a fade and murky look, and here was the judge, the jury, and the lawyer...
The draftsman went through the sketches, and unexpectedly, came across the portrait of Arina, painted recently. The girl from the sketch looked at him with a certain slyness in her eyes. A smile played on her full lips. He took a pastel pencil and subconsciously started outlining the contour of her lips, chin, cute little nose, beautifully shaped eyebrows and a high forehead with a barely noticeable wrinkle in the middle that appeared from the constant worrying.
Using his pencil, he corrected her braid, entwined around her head, and slightly touched her earlobes, topped with gold-set pearl earrings.
Suddenly Vasily got distracted: he noticed a flower-girl and asked the coachman to pull over,
“My friend!” he shouted, “Stop for a minute!”
He kept the folder with the pictures aside on the seat and quickly got out of the carriage. The variety of flowers was huge: every kind of flowers imaginable. The young man chose a small bouquet of violets, they somehow reminded him the color of Arina’s eyes. He paid off the flower-girl and continued on his way.
“How will I give her flowers? Just come up and say, "This is for you, Arina." But what if she refuses to take, or gets offended? Although, what is wrong about flowers? Girls love flowers - it is an innocent sign of attention and does not oblige to anything... ”
With these thoughts, Vasily reached Stromynka and finally saw the cherished goal – the baker’s shop of Arina Vyzhiga. Vasily paid off the coachman, giving him a tip, and decidedly opened the door. The door was with a bell that apparently quite recently had been purchased by an enterprising hostess. Therefore, due to a treacherous chime, his appearance did not remain unnoticed. Arina, who was standing behind the counter, saw "the gypsy guy” and smiled. He got embarrassed. He took off his hat and his determination immediately evaporated. Today the girl was looking gorgeous: the blue poplin dress fitted her perfectly, accentuating her eyes well, which made them seem as deep and blue as the sea.
It was too late to retreat. Otherwise, the girl would think that he simply was a coward. Therefore, the only one way out was to go forward, to Arina. There were few visitors: one couple and two young women, apparently all locals from Stromynka.
This inspired confidence in Vasily. He went to the counter, giving his face an appropriate for that crucial moment expression, or at least he thought it was appropriate.
Arina smiled sweetly, showing her white even teeth,
“What can I get you, sir?” the girl asked politely. “It has been a while since you visited us, you have probably found a more respectable pastry shop in the city center, haven’t you?” she asked, as if by chance.
Vasily got a little confused; he felt that he was blushing, “As if I am not embarrassed enough already, now she would think that I am a teenager!”
“N-no, no! Please do not think so!” he uttered, stammering, and timidly handed a bouquet of flowers to Arina, “This is for you...”
Arina raised her eyebrows in surprise,
“For me... thank you,” she took the bouquet from the hand of her admirer, touching his skin with her tender fingers.
A shiver ran through Vasily's body and he completely lost his head. Despite his swarthy skin, he reddened and this circumstance became very noticeable.
“Excuse me,” he mumbled, and putting his hat on, rushed outside, making an abrupt sound with the doorbell.
Arina held the bunch of violets in her hands and inhaled their magnificent delicate scent.
“What a strange guy... And I don’t even know his name. I need to ask Glasha, she constantly serves tables, and therefore she can find out.”
***
Glafira was a girl, who, as the saying goes, had seen life. She was happy about the fact that she had got a job at the baker’s shop of Danila Vyzhiga. The job was cushy, in a warm place, and with decent clients, unlike a tavern crowd. The deceased owner, Danila Vyzhiga, was well versed in people and out of five girls who had applied for a position of the waitress, he had chosen Glafira - and he had not mistaken.
She, having seen enough of all sort of negative stuff in her life, worked properly, did not steal, was attentive and polite with visitors, and she tried not to pay attention to people like Pyotr Pakhomov. Although, there were not so many men of his kind. Mostly, decent couples or mothers with children visited the bakery. Everyone wanted to try the latest French fashion - sweet hot chocolate. Some Moscow citizens, living in the center of the city, preferred the “Chocolatiers” instead of the baker’s shop, as there was an extensive variety of sweets and typically high prices. But at the outskirts of Moscow, behind the Garden Ring Road, mostly middle-class citizens and merchants lived. They loved French innovations as well, but at more reasonable prices of baker’s shops.
To all other positive traits of Glafira, one could also add attention to details and really good memory for faces. She knew all regular visitors and even memorized children by names, and their mothers were inexpressible happy about it.
