That’s wonderful! I told you he was fine. But mind his beak, baby-kins. You know what happened last time,’ cautioned Sveta. ‘Now let’s get you up—’
‘Did that bird … I mean, did the bird just say—’
‘I told you she had an affinity for animals,’ beamed Sveta, pulling the girl up from the floor with one hand under each armpit, and then reaching out to Gor with a sunny smile.
‘Gor, this is my daughter Albina. Albina, say hello to Mister Papasyan.’ The girl regarded Gor sullenly. ‘Albina is not well today, are you, munchkin?’ continued Sveta, ‘so she really needs to go and rest and be quiet in her room. But you wanted to meet Mummy’s guest, didn’t you, darling? Gor is a magician. And we are going to rehearse. You don’t mind, do you?’
Albina said nothing, but looked along her lashes at Gor and chewed her lip. The bird made a guttural clucking noise.
‘I’ll put him away,’ said Albina, raising her head with a smile, ‘and then I can help you.’
The rehearsal that followed was, perhaps understandably, not up to scratch. Without props or a stage, and with both of them distracted by the day’s events, neither was in a magical frame of mind. Instead, they discussed various possible programmes for shows and the range of illusions they could offer, where they might stand and how they might move their arms and legs about. The list of meagre bookings so far taken was reviewed amid worried sighs from Gor. Sveta suggested some murky-sounding venues in depressing nearby towns that might be persuaded to have them. When she began chattering about organising a variety spectacular of their own, Gor succumbed to a cough, drowning out her words.
He observed her misty eyes, and asked her what the profit margins would be.
‘Well, er … I haven’t got that far, yet.’
He nodded his head knowingly, and Albina sniggered behind her hand.
Indeed, the girl was a continual distraction to Sveta, as she refused to leave the room. In fact, she refused to leave Gor’s side, and followed him around at the space of half a pace all afternoon; trailing him in the kitchen, huddling into him on the sofa, and even insisting on showing him into the bathroom when he enquired as to its whereabouts. Gor had taken a deep breath and bolted the door firmly as she waited for him in the hallway.
‘What sort of costume will you be providing?’
He issued her with a puzzled frown.
‘I must have a costume, must I not? Assistants must always be well presented – a sequinned bodice, I was thinking, with feathers at the shoulder, and a net skirt, with fishnet tights underneath. And a feathered tiara. It is traditional, is it not?’ Sveta laughed deep in her throat as Gor harrumphed and looked away – directly into the probing gaze of Albina.
‘Are you planning to use Kopek in your show, Mister Papasyan?’ she asked, sliding her feet over and over the nylon covering of the couch and setting Gor’s teeth on edge as she did so.
‘Ah, no, Albina, I don’t think that would be a good idea.’
‘Magicians use rabbits though, don’t they?’ she asked, and then, ‘Ouch, Mama, I caught my toe-nail.’
Gor shuddered as she picked at it. ‘Yes, some do. But I have not used animals in my magical expositions, ever. I find, when we are confusing and confounding the human mind, that animals are neither necessary nor advantageous.’
‘But they’re cute. Kopek would be cute, in a top hat or with a wand or something. He could hold it in his beak. Go on, Mister Papasyan, you could use him.’
‘No, no, Albina, really, it’s not necessary.’
‘Mama, tell Mister Papasyan he should use Kopek.’
‘Well, Gor, it is a good idea, don’t you think?’ Sveta beamed at him and wound a finger through her brittle blonde hair. ‘After all, people like animals—’
‘No, Sveta, it is out of the question. That … bird, can play no part in my—’
‘Our!’ interjected Albina.
‘My magic show. And that is final.’
Sveta drew in her lips and began to fiddle with the cuffs of her cardigan. Albina eyed Gor for a moment and let out a low chuckle.
‘You thought Kopek was swearing, didn’t you?’
‘Yes, Albina, he was swearing.’
‘No, you see, that’s where you’re wrong! He’s a very clever bird. He was speaking Japanese.’
‘Albina, really I think our guest—’
‘Shut up Mama! Let me tell Mister Papasyan.’ Albina stared at her mother as the latter avoided her gaze and dropped her eyes to her hands, which were now pulling on a scrap of fluff in her lap. ‘Kopek was speaking Japanese! He’s very keen on karate. So am I.’
‘She is,’ smiled Sveta, looking up at Gor and nodding.
‘I’m a yellow belt. Fu kyu is a karate exercise.’
‘It is!’ Sveta smiled again. ‘Albina learnt it at school.’
‘So you have a dirty mind, Mister Papasyan,’ said the girl, and she sent Gor a look from the curving corner of her eye. He could imagine her causing havoc in a hen-house.
‘I don’t know about that, Albina,’ simpered Sveta.
‘Are you a millionaire, Mister Papasyan?’ the girl lisped eventually, ‘because Mama says you can’t be, but Mister Golubchik in the bakery says you owned a bank—’
‘Albina!’ shrieked her mother, ‘we do not gossip here!’
‘Ladies!’ Gor began, his face closed, blank eyes on the floor. ‘It has been an interesting afternoon, but I fear I must leave you. I don’t think we will get an awful lot more done today.’ He was determined not to be drawn into a foolish conversation about karate moves, his finances or anything else with a twelve-year-old, or whatever she was.
‘Oh, but Gor, I can’t let you leave just yet,’ cried Sveta. ‘Here we’ve been planning all afternoon, and I haven’t offered you anything at all. Let me make you some tea and a little sandwich, before you go. I insist!’
When he thought about it, Gor had to agree that he was famished, especially as there had been no egg at lunchtime, so he gratefully allowed Sveta to trot into the kitchen to prepare a little something. He was relieved when Albina, after some minutes of further staring, stumbled out to help her mother. He took a turn of the room, briefly opening and then closing the purple curtains that shut out a view of the neighbouring block.
Sveta returned with a small tray on which stood a glass of tea, a rye-bread sandwich stuffed with cheese and parsley, and a painted oval dish of congealed boiled sweets.
‘Here, Gor, please help yourself. Albina and I will eat later.’
The women sat on the sofa opposite his armchair and watched as he began his snack. The
