Unlimited - страница 86
Kharon came into the flat, squeezing the girl’s hand. Her mum was staying in the hall and trying to smile, pretending to be glad of a new acquaintance with her daughter’s man. The demon looked at the woman, greeted her with smile and stared at Vic. She held his hand and her happiness had no limits.
‘Good evening, young man,’ Olga Vladimirovna answered for greetings. Her voice was dry, stern and powerful. All the doctors usually had the same. The woman pretended easy to smile and be glade of that party. But the demon gloated as he clearly saw Olga Vladimirovna dislike him at all. He liked the beginning of the evening.
‘This is Kharon, mum.’ Vic introduced her young man.
The girl, being so blinded by unknown love, didn’t see that her mother’s amiability and smile had nothing to do with reality. She didn’t feel that real hostility from Olga Vladimirovna.
‘Kharon?’ she asked in a mentor voice. ‘What an unusual name.’
‘I was called different. Kharon is the name I gave to myself.’
‘How did your parents call you?’
The man gave the woman a playful look, dropped his head and slyly looked at Vic from under his eyebrows.
‘Parents?’ he grinned. ‘If I want everyone to know my name, I got from my… parents, I wouldn’t have used different one.’
Olga Vladimirovna took a sigh, making her displeasure public. Victoria still noticed nothing but only the demon’s magnificent face. He hypnotized her, extinguishing her mind neuron by neuron.
‘Shall we go?’ Vic took his hand.
There was a serviced table in the kitchen: snacks, salads and a bottle of wine.
The man sat to the table, Olga Vladimirovna was nearby. Her green eyes were scrutinizing the face in front of her. She was looking intently at the couple. The mother understood very fast what was going on in that relation in fact.
‘How did you meet?’ she asked, put the salad to the guest, saw her daughter holding his hand.
‘Four months ago, I was in metro. I saw a girl read intently something in her notebook…’
The demon retold word-for-word the story he had told before to Vasilisa. Vic listened to the fairy tale with pleasure but the same could hardly be said about her mother.
She liked the young man less and less. Unfriendliness was getting worse and worse. She did want to say to her daughter: “Break up with him, Vic, and run. Just run, without looking back.’
‘Do you have any intensions to my daughter?’ suddenly Olga Vladimirovna asked.
‘What do you mean intensions?’ Kharon asked in all innocence.
The woman’s face fell, her eyes filled with suspicion and indignation. At that moment she couldn’t hide her disappointment. Kharon had fun instead, as he enjoyed the woman’s evil thinking.
‘How do you see your future with my daughter?’ Olga Vladimirovna asked after she had counted to ten and took a sigh.
‘Very colourfully. Absolutely. Overpoweringly. Epochally. Pushy. Eccentrically. Extravagantly. Sometimes freakishly. Exotically. A little paranormally.’
‘We love each other, mum.’ Vic told in flurry of words, after she had noticed her parent to be agonizing and even irritating. ‘We wanna live together that’s why we’re here now.’
‘Live together…’ Olga Vladimirovna lowered her eyes. ‘Ok then Kharon, tell me about yourself: where you work, live, what your parents do. I want to know everything about you.’
‘I don’t have parents. They died. A long ago. I’m an orphan. I live in the centre of Moscow.’