plans! I very very much have plans! I can't work!”
The woman suddenly laughed genuinely, and Lera paused. “Don't worry about it!” The boss said with a smile. “That's not why I'm asking. Are you going to leave the city, by any chance?”
“I am going to!” Lera blurted out. “Tomorrow! To a very distant place! The phone will not work there, it is in the middle of nowhere!”
The woman continued to look at her subordinate with amusement, then slammed her hand on the table and said sharply: "Great! Firstly, bring the box here, I will hide it in the safe. Then, sit in the office motionlessly until I let Marat go. He will escort you home. Thirdly… How will you get there, in your middle of nowhere?”
“B-by p-plane” Lera stuttered, pinned down by the commanding voice. “From Domodedovo.”
“That’s even better! It's nice to realise that Russian airlines have developed to the point where planes from Domodedovo fly to the middle of nowhere.”
At these words, Lera flushed and looked away.
“So, I will ask Kostya to pick you up at home and meet you upon your return. Don’t argue!” The boss growled, raising her eyebrows when Lera tried to object. “He will not just take you to the airport, he will meet you at your apartment and take you back! Door-to-door! No arguments!”
Lera's face fell.
“And finally, while you are in your "middle of nowhere," I will make a request to the security company. They must be keeping the CCTV recordings for a while. Can you roughly tell me when the other presents arrived?”
"Uh-huh" Lera replied meekly, apparently resigned to her fate.
“That's good to be “uh-huh”. Here you are the paper, write the dates and approximate times. After you come back, we will watch the videos and, if we recognise your admirer, we can take him over his boll… humm… we’ll talk anyway… If not, we should go to the police.”
“To the police?!” Lera became nervous.
“Of course! It's pointless to apply now anyway. The earrings will be taken, but policemen still won't start moving until after the holidays. That's right, Larina! Write down now!”
The boss thrust a piece of paper in front of the girl, got up abruptly, and went to call the next person over. Lera, meanwhile, buried her head in the blank paper and started writing…
Chapter 2
Lera was spinning around in front of the mirror, smiling at her reflection. Her blue-green eyes were shining with amusement today. The girl had already been dressed and was ready to go a long time ago, and while waiting for her escort, she enjoyed picking out a scarf to match her coat.
After all, Irina Konstantinovna's idea of a voluntary-compulsory escort was a good one, although Lera initially still tried to protest. Hearing the combat mission "the beautiful lady is in danger" announced, Marat, as a true son of his nation, activated knight mode and joined forces with the boss to press Lera.
Upon hearing Lera's confused objections, Marat threatened to ensure her compliance by force if necessary. Specifically, by immobilizing her with swaddling. He vowed to bring immediately his entire brood of brothers to protect his beloved colleague, one brother for guarding each of Lera’s limbs. At this point, Lera babbled even more desperate. When Marat, stern faced, reached for the phone to call for help, Lera realized it was pointless to resist. She gave in with a sigh. Marat smiled with satisfaction looking at Lera with his hazel eyes and put the phone down.
Ten minutes later, Lera realized that walking home with a tall, broad-shouldered, athletic guy supporting her gallantly on the icy sidewalk was much more enjoyable, calmer, and safer than hobbling home alone. Marat smiled and joked, but his bright tiger-coloured eyes carefully scanned the street from under his hair that fell on his forehead. Looking at him, Lera felt cheerful, and smiled. She hadn't realised until that evening how much she had been putting her head down and hurrying to and from work.
The evening passed much more calmly for Lera than usual. Now the girl looked at the two packages of pills on the table in the hallway with hatred, and then still shoved them in her bag, along with the prescriptions.
Strong sedatives. Those that needed to be taken daily and those that were only needed in cases of breakdowns. She hated the sight, taste and smell of them. Lera shuddered each time at the clicking of the foil as she removed the pills.
Only half an hour ago, she had coped with nervous nausea that came every time she took these damned pills. Her therapist said that it happened to her because she had not yet accepted her illness, or come to terms with the fact that taking the drugs was a continual and strict necessity
Yes, she had not come to terms with it. She still did not accept it! Lera still didn’t believe that she was ill, even though everyone tried to convince her that she was mad. She was tired of proving her point to everyone and would just look like a monster when someone tried to have a heart-to-heart talk with her.
It felt like she was drowning in fear but still didn't fully believe in her disease. She still didn’t, although no one else seemed to notice the things she told her mother and doctor about. No one listened to her. Sometimes she was tormented by doubt and had a pathetic tantrum. Especially after her periodic visits to the therapist, a kindly fellow looking like Santa who, with warmth in his voice, urged her to devote herself fully to the treatment.
In a few days everything would pass and she would find her inner strength again. Despite that, she took the pills because they helped her cope with persistent anxiety and fears. Lera was alone. Surrounded by all these therapists and relatives, these liars with caring faces, she was still alone. Alone, resisting them all and resisting her fear. Face to face with her terror.
Every time she felt nervous, they dragged her to the doctor again, and Lera had learned to hide her emotions behind a stone mask. She had learned to control her breathing, to calm the trembling in her hands by sheer willpower. This had worked. Visits to the doctor had been reduced to a minimum. However, it was all a lie, because the things that scared her had not disappeared.
Lera shook her head and said, "Don't think about it!" No thoughts of illness today! She was going to Rome and wanted to enjoy her vacation. Oh, beautiful Rome! With these thoughts Lera spun around in the hallway, almost tripping over a suitcase that was lying by the door.
Almost packed, it had stood in the most prominent spot for a week, with its wide mouth agape as if with anticipation, it seemed to be waiting for Lera. All this time Lera had been seized by the very mood that appears when the tickets are playfully sticking out of the passport, and the vacation date is getting closer. In a fit of fashion excitement, she packed her suitcase several times, she put clothes in it and then picked at and reviewed everything inside, selecting carefully what to wear for the trip.
Just think! A vacation! A real vacation with travel, and not for work. No more meetings that made her brain burn and required long stretches of sleep to recover. No more business trips where she has to talk so much that she is silent for days afterwards.
She will relax and enjoy walks around the ancient city, exploring monuments and eating real pizza. On Lera's left shoulder, the devil danced and provocatively tugged her earlobe, urging her to perform mischief.
In her excess of emotions, she danced toward the piano and played Rachmaninoff's Italian Polka fluently, missed the key in the second phrase, giggled and tapped on the keys, "So fate knocks at the door."
The upcoming trip was even more pleasant
