The Before Short Story Series. Part 1: читать книгу онлайн полностью и бесплатно

‘Well, there! That’s quite another story! Wait here. I’ll be right back.’

There was some noise in the corridor. Someone entered the place.

‘Uncle Chuck! Ow! Are you home, Uncle Chuck?’

Uncle Chuck suddenly broke out in a cold sweat. Stunned and taken by surprise, he stood in the kitchen with two bowls of ice cream in his hands. Having recovered from shock, he put the ice cream on the table and went out into the corridor, where his mother was standing in the doorway.

‘Ah! Here you are, my dear Uncle Chuck. How are you?’

He looked his mother straight in the eye, his heart racing.

‘Where’s our sweet little Bella?’ the mother went into the living room. ‘Ah, there she is! Hello, Bella! You’ve grown up so much! You are such a beauty! Damn it!’ Entering the room, the woman hit a coffee table. She was still wearing her sunglasses, even though it was dark in the living room. The trees in the backyard, where the windows looked out, blocked the sunlight.

‘I’m sorry, Bella. Swearing is not good at all. Oh well. My name is… Tina. I’m your Uncle Chuck’s mom. It turns out that I am your great-aunt. I’m really glad that we finally met, Bella.’

The girl, confused completely, sat quietly in a chair, not knowing what to do next. She felt like crying.

‘So! Grandma commanded. ‘Crying is the last thing we need, Bella. It’s all good, isn’t it?! I’m taking you home now, baby. Your dad will be home soon. Come on, pack up and let’s go, honey. I’ll call the car now.’

‘Bella, say your uncle bye-bye,’ grandma took the girl by the hand, and they left the house.

Uncle Chuck was still standing in the dark corridor, motionless.

Sir Lawrence

‘That damn middle-aged dandy Richardson is ahead of me by 7 points. And this is only the middle of the campaign. Do you get it? By seven points! What are we going to do?! What?! What are we going to do with it?! The election is in four months. We have lost. Damn it!!’ Peter was pacing up and down the room like a wind-up toy. His noble profile was reflected in the mirrors of the bright living room, where his assistant and personal secretary were watching him going hysterical. Lord Lawrence’s evening program included a visit to the Royal Albert Hall. He was almost ready, just to change for a dinner jacket.

‘Please calm down, sir. You can’t torment yourself like that. It could end up bad. Peter, you’re not a hundred years old. So think about your health first, sir,’ his assistant tried to calm down the patron.

‘What do we have on him? Have you collected the material? Have you been able to collect any material at all? Damn you!’ He plopped down in a chair opposite his employees and his lean body jumped slightly in it, making him even more unhappy.

‘Elsa! Elsa!’ Sir Lawrence called the maid in a shrill voice. ‘Where the hell did she get to?! ELSA!

Elsa floated into the living room in a hurry:

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Tea, please, bring us tea. And cookies, as I like it.’

‘Of course, sir. I’ll do it straight away, sir. Is there anything else you’d like, gentlemen?’ She looked at her master’s guests.

‘No, thanks. Although… please bring some water without gas.’

‘Why do you need water, Mao. We’re going to have tea…well, if that’s what you want. Thank you, Elsa.’

‘So, gentlemen, what do we have on this pygmy?’ The lord persisted.

‘Sir, at the moment there is information on hand that is common knowledge. We are working on…’ Peter Lawrence took a newspaper from the coffee table and started beating with it mercilessly on the side of the chair.

‘Do you see? It was clean here a minute ago! Now, having worked on it with a newspaper, I have knocked out all the dirt and dust from this chair. Do you know how old this silk is?’

‘Excuse me, sir?’

‘That damn golden silk!’ Peter started hitting the chair with the newspaper again. ‘Almost as old as that fop and filthy American immigrant. He goes, you know, back and forth! 100 years! This chair is 100 years old and its silk upholstery as well. You have to work better! Dirt and dust are everywhere! Is it clear to you?!’

‘Yes, sir. Quite clear,’ the assistant replied.

‘Peter, the problem is that there is nothing on him at all. It’s just that everything is clean,’ Secretary Mao joined the conversation. ‘I can hardly imagine this possible at all.’