Sunlit oak tree

September cold winds came to the city very soon. The first autumn leaves, lying in heaps on the street, continually flew from one place to another. Augustine looked out of the window of the art gallery. Some kind of internal anxiety was eating him up, and he didn’t know why. On the one hand, everything went well, and Agnes and her youngest moved in with him. On the other hand, he understood that his mother had hushed everything up too easily, which meant that either she really didn’t need them, or she was looking for them. Augustine looked at the gallery manager — he was also nervous: today a very important person was supposed to come to them to buy paintings. Augustine, standing next to the director, mentally counted to ten. And so the client came. — Augustine, remember, your fee will depend on this deal. — The boss whispered in his ear. “Yes, I know,” Augustine answered barely audibly. Any money was important to him now. He moved in with his sister, and his worries increased considerably, but Augustine did not complain of fatigue; so far they found money and even managed to save up for a short trip to the mountains, which was very gratifying. The girl who came to the gallery was none other than the very same person who performed at the restaurant. Augustine recognized her, even though she was wearing a headscarf and glasses. The girl looked rich and well-groomed. This means that he was not mistaken about Irene, she really performed. The director treated her politely and talked a lot about the profitable purchase of this painting, and, as Augustine understood, this was not the first painting she had bought from him. The girl agreed and very carefully explained the transportation and installation of the painting. The director, pointing to Augustine, said that their employee would help do this. — Hello. — Augustine turned. The girl took off her glasses and slowly looked around him. — Hello. — Irene was curious about their chance meeting. She, like any other girl, was good at remembering the looks of men on her, and that evening she remembered how fascinated he looked at her. And, realizing who was in front of her, she pretended that she did not remember him. — I see you here for the first time. The director, seeing that there was something between them, went away to give the order to bring the painting from the warehouse. — I recently got a job. — Augustine was brief, realizing that there was no point in loading him with conversations now. She looked at him with a certain cunning in her eyes, similar to that of a fox. — You sing beautifully, Irene. — Thank you. — Irene paused. “And you only looked at me, so my friend Alex had to push you away.” Does he know that we know each other? — Augustine instantly blushed; Never before had he felt so guilty and so embarrassed. “You sang very beautifully, I didn’t think it would be so great.” I think you were even better than Marlene Dietrich. — Don’t be stupid, but thank you. “Irene felt very pleased by his words; Augustine aptly flattered her self-esteem. Augustine turned his gaze to the floor. At this time the director came with a packed picture. Irene looked at her, making sure that everything was folded well, took out a bank book for writing a check and handed it to the director. He, smiling with all thirty-two teeth, thanked the girl and, saying goodbye, exhaled with relief. Augustine followed her with his eyes, and yet there was something that remained a mystery to him about her. Irene, who came out of the art gallery, turned around for a long time and thought: did she really embarrass this wonderful young man with what she said and how she behaved. It’s like she didn’t say anything like that to him. Walking home along the main street, she thought about tomorrow’s performance at the restaurant: she needed to get ready, pick up her dress from the dry cleaners and, when she got home, lock herself in her room so that she would not be disturbed by any outside noise. Irene didn’t really like confronting her parents; they were crazy, or, as Irene thought, she must look crazy compared to them. They did not like the fact that their daughter did not shout slogans, did not join the party, and that everything she saw around her seemed to her to be something abnormal and sick. Her parents were National Socialists to the core, they even built an altar dedicated to the Fuhrer at home, and not a day passed without the girl getting tired of their nonsense, which they listened to on the radio for days and then retold. There wasn’t a day when she didn’t feel disgusted about singing in this restaurant, catching the officers’ gazes on her, and looking at the strict military uniform became something ordinary for her, although still unpleasant. Life in Germany had changed, but Irene kept hoping that not much and not forever. When Irene returned from school, she found the house in a terrible state; she already wanted to move from her parents' house to her grandmother, who lived near Munich, but, unfortunately, the court declared the old woman incompetent, and her parents obtained a ban on Irene visiting her. However, this did not stop the girl from coming to the old woman and secretly leaving her money, paintings, or something else. Irene knew that her mother would hardly dare to put her hands there, the scandal between them was too big. *** The girl entered the apartment — it was quiet. This means that the mother went to home economics classes again, and the father went to the next meeting. The painting was supposed to be taken to her grandmother’s apartment, where she usually spent the night. Having sat down comfortably, she began to rehearse the song, but then the front door slammed. — Irene, are you home? — her mother called. — Yes, why? “The girl, swearing to herself, hoped that everything would work out and her mother would not call her again. — Come here, we have a conversation. “The girl reluctantly stood up and walked towards her mother. The mother, sitting in the kitchen, poured herself some tea and, offering it to her daughter, began to drink alone when she heard Irene’s refusal. — What did you want? — Irene stood in the doorway. The mother was in a good mood, which means that Irene will soon be in a bad mood. — Irene, there is a good candidate for a husband for you. The girl turned and was about to leave, but her mother’s stern voice forced her to sit down on a chair. “I said I wouldn’t talk about it.” — Why? Okay, you don’t want to get married, but you understand that you can’t earn much with your singing, otherwise I’ll be at peace that you’re under his wing. — Under the wing of the person you like? — Mother sighed. Irene was stubborn as a donkey. She was not soft and comfortable for her parents, she was firm in her beliefs. Unfortunately, not everyone was happy with this. — Even if so, consider his candidacy. I’m telling you that maybe it will all work out this way. Don’t judge him just by his appearance. The girl realized that it was useless to argue with her mother, and she had to accept defeat. — So say that today you invited him to us. “My mother confirmed this without question: he will come at nine o’clock.” Exactly at the time when Irene should return home after the performance. “It’s good that you at least still remember about my performances, and that I’m actually a person, and not your doll.” — With these words, Irene stood up and, going into the room, closed the doors. *** Smiling after the performance, Irene was already leaving, but met Alex; They hugged each other warmly and in a friendly way. “You’ve grown so much since our last meeting.” — Alexander smiled. — Yes, I know. We haven’t seen you for about a year — maybe more. The guy figured it out in his mind. Augustine, standing a little to the side, watched as two well-known people had a warm conversation. — Oh yes, Irene, I want to introduce you to my friend Augustine, we studied at the boarding school together. — Alex points to Augustine, and he smiles briefly. — Very nice. “Irene, who pretended that she had not known Augustine until that moment, shook his hand. He responded in kind. Alex, jokingly, casually said that Augustine had a crush on Irene. The girl smiled a little wider, and her friend blushed and whispered for Alex to stop. “I think this is not our last meeting with you.” So let’s chat next time. I have to go. “Irene said goodbye, and the two friends looked at each other. — Alex, tell me, was it just me, or did she look sad? — Augustine looked at his friend uncertainly. — Well, how can I say, my friend, ever since her parents moved from the village to the city and became party members, she has always been sad. I don’t know what’s going on in her family, but I think the last thing she would want in this life is for someone to notice her sadness. So next time, pretend you didn’t see it, okay? — Alex patted his friend on the shoulder and, taking out a cigarette, lit it. — OK. Are you and I going to party all night again? — Augustine said, catching up with his comrade. — Of course, Augustine, today was your first deal, and it turned out to be a very successful day for me too. — Alex, you are as always! — Augustine overtook his friend at the turn. *** Irene sat with an unnaturally straight back and felt as if she was sitting on iron bars. She didn’t even know what to say — she sat and ate in silence while her mother praised her in every possible way to Officer Arthur. Yes, of course, on the one hand, he is handsome, tall, wonderful and there is a share of enchantment in him, but on the other hand, he is stupid, pompous and does not want to hear anyone’s point of view except his own. And this is what she should marry in order to save her parents from family collapse? Why? The family dinner, in the best traditions, looked like an inquisition, and Irene could barely shovel the food into herself. — Irene, I heard from your mother that you sing in a restaurant? — Arthur smiled in an attempt to impress her; Irene politely responded in kind, but clearly out of motives so that they would leave her behind as quickly as possible. — Yes, I sing, I like it. This is my hobby, and singing is a good way to escape from everyday sadness. “It seemed to me that such a beautiful girl like you could not have any worries.” — Everyone has them. — Have you always wanted to sing? — Yes. Even though my mother mentioned that I was the best in medical subjects at school, I always dreamed of singing. — I have a friend on the radio, I can help you. — It would be fantastic. “Irene noticed out of the corner of her eye that her mother was somehow trying to contain her verbal deluge. “I think you have something to talk about with your mother; she wants to discuss agrarian reform.” — At this point their short conversation was over, and Arthur switched to a conversation with Irene’s parents about the labor market and the country’s agricultural problems. Already when the guest had left, Irene sat down in her room; She didn’t understand anything — Why she was here and what she was doing. How to get out of her parents' house and why should she marry him at all? Hearing how her father and mother decided to continue celebrating the fun of this evening, she quietly took the cloak hanging in the corridor and, leaving the apartment, quickly went down the stairs. Looking around and realizing that everything was fine and there were no neighbors on the street to snitch on her, she walked along the right side of the street, avoiding large establishments with crowds of people. She had many places where she could sit without attracting anyone’s attention. One of these places was the Rose Cafe, located at the end of the street. Sitting down at the first table, she exhaled. There was noise and commotion around her, someone was hitting others' heads with chairs, someone was having fist fights, there were conversations about politics, students were arguing with peasants. Having placed her order, she saw the familiar top of Alex’s head in the crowd — he was arguing angrily with someone and was already completely drunk. Augustine tried to get him out of the argument, but this was impossible, and the girl, after drinking from a glass, decided to help them. Approaching them from behind, Irene took Alex by the elbow, and, apologizing to everyone, she and Augustine led him out. The dispute was serious — Alex could get into big trouble with the son of one of the heads of the police department. Irene knew this because his dad came to listen to her concert more than once. And also because many men after forty fell for her, which was, on the one hand, terrible, and on the other hand, it pleasantly boosted self-esteem. Augustine, paying as he went, helped Irene get Alex out of the restaurant. — Thank you so much. — Augustine looked at Irene’s dim face as they dragged the drunken Alex home. — My pleasure. “I know how sometimes my friend gets drunk,” the girl said sarcastically. “Besides, it could end very unpleasantly for you.” Where are you from? — I? — Augustine was taken aback. — From Berlin. “They almost got their friend.” The night lights were dim, and there were almost no people, even though the night life was just beginning. “From Berlin…” Irene thought. -Why did you come here? — Do you need some special reason for this? — Augustine opened the entrance door. “Well, they don’t just come to us from the capital,” Irene insisted. They pulled Alex into the elevator as he was practically drooling on his friend’s shirt. — You can say that I escaped from circumstances. — Augustine unlocked the door and literally dragged his friend into his room. At this time Irene was closing the door and waiting in the hall. He put it on the bed and closed the door. — Let me offer you some tea or call a taxi? Irene walked into the kitchen and sat down on a chair. “Let’s have some tea,” she said mysteriously. *** Augustine met the first rays of the sun. Today was a day off, he enjoyed the lightness and tranquility that enveloped his soul. Irene left only in the morning, leaving a note with a lipstick print and her number. Augustine lay in bed for a long time: he did not want to get up, did not want to see anyone. In his dreams he still lay next to Irene. The scent of her light perfume with notes of lavender and honey lingered on the pillow. He remembered how beautiful she was… How languid the look of her light eyes was, how sweetly disheveled her hair was, how soft her skin was. He wanted to remain in this state forever, but Alex’s cries disrupted all his plans. The friend did not stop looking for gustine throughout the apartment. — Alex, are you shouting something? I am here. — Augustine reluctantly left the room to his friend, meeting his gaze. Alex smiled slyly. — Tell me, was I very drunk yesterday? Augustine shook his head affirmatively. — Yesterday you were not just very drunk, but drunk to smithereens. You were drooling on my shirt, and if Irene hadn’t come to my aid yesterday, we would have been in big trouble. “If it weren’t for Irene…” Alexander said mysteriously. — So that means she was here? Augustine went into his room and wanted to close the doors, feeling himself blush. “Well, yes,” he answered uncertainly. — You spent the night with her. — Augustine covered his face with his hands and began to chuckle. — Well, at least tell me how she is? — he said, standing on the threshold in front of the slamming door. — It’s unlikely that I’ll tell you this. — Augustine smiled, holding his hand on the doorknob. — But I will say one thing, I would like to rewind time again — it’s a pity that this can only be done in my head. Alex laughed and, judging by the sound, fell to the floor. Only later did he get up and prepare breakfast, calling his friend to eat, but all the way he sat and joked, and Augustine kicked and pushed him back. This only amused Alex and encouraged him to joke further. How could Augustine tell his friend everything, how could he tell him about her kisses, about the eyes that looked only at him that night, the words that were addressed only to him? About laughter and groans, the echoes of which are still in his head even now. About those long eyelashes, from under which you can see wonderful eyes that can captivate any man… No, this should have remained only in this room and nowhere else. No one else could feel what he felt. *** Irene was returning home early in the morning when she saw a car near her house. She quickly walked up the stairs and entered the apartment — well, of course, it was yesterday’s guest. — Good morning. “Mother and father stood with her suitcases and Arthur. — Good, what’s going on here? — It began to dawn on Irene that she was being forcibly married off. — We think this is best. — Father was pleased with himself, pointing at things. “Mom…” Irene looked first at her mother, then at her father. The woman stopped her. — I don’t want to hear anything. You spent the night somewhere, and judging by the smoke you smell, you were with a man. I don’t need you like that. So marry Arthur — maybe he will wash away your shame. — Irene stopped. Footsteps were heard behind him: Arthur entered on time. Irene clenched her fists in anger. That’s how it is. They had been planning this for a long time, and it didn’t matter whether she would have spent tonight at Augustine’s or not, it would have happened anyway. “Irene,” Arthur slowly approached her, “I want to marry you, so I came to ask your parents for your hand.” They gave their consent. — Oh, how wonderful. “Irene blushed with anger and could barely restrain herself from slapping him in the face. “As I understand it, judging by the things collected, I’m already being transported to you.” — Yes, you will go to Austria, to my parents, and all your things will be sent there. — Okay, I understand you. — That’s all the girl could say. She walked past everyone to her room and, looking at the bare walls, realized that she was unlikely to be remembered in this house. Irene realized that she had very little time left. Arthur, who was sitting behind the wheel, looked at the road. — Arthur, can I say goodbye before I leave? “I still have friends in the city,” Irene said timidly. “Of course,” the man said calmly. “Besides, I think you’ll have a week because I still need to finish all my work.” — Great. “Irene smiled the most sincere smile. She understood that what was happening now would drag on for a long time — a very long time — and maybe this would be her last opportunity to see Augustine and Alex and this city in general. “Alex,” she called a friend from Arthur’s apartment, where he brought her and left her with her things and servants. — Yes, Irene, I’m listening. — It’s your birthday soon, right? — Irene squeezed the phone. — Well, yes. I’m surprised you remember this. And what happened? Irene strained to make the situation as natural as possible. — Are you going to celebrate? I want to understand what to give you this year. — Yes, there will be a party. But I plan for it to be small. Everyone from our gang left in all directions. But bring a gift anyway. And it doesn’t matter which one. — Irene smiled: yes, Alex was an indelible optimist. — OK. I understood you! — Irene hung up.