– For Cheburashka?
She looked at him angrily.
– Misha is from him, huh? Is it true? – Sergey stared into her eyes.
– Misha is from me, – she said quietly and walked out the door calmly.
– Elena Mikhailovna, where are you going? – Her guard Mikhail tried to stop her, watching his tearful boss leaving in a short slinky dress. And it will be evening soon.
A luxurious cloud of hair swinging at each step of hers rested on her shoulders.
Her gait was from the hip. Moreover, from such luxurious hips! She was as graceful as a swan floating on the river. Her facial features and blush were so good that it seemed that she used very expensive cosmetics, but in fact she did it very rarely and mainly for the shooting. The impression was the Lord has once again decided to create Eve, only her name was Elena Yarskaya.
Mikhail was nervously fingering the radio in his left hand and watched her. He felt when it was better to leave his boss alone, but at the same time he was supposed to know where she was.
– Misha, bunny, – she came to him.
– So, it’s Misha or bunny? – He asked, trying to cheer Elena. And he succeeded. A charming smile appeared through the tears.
– What a confidence smile you have!
He stood in front of her admiring the view. Taking a coat from her hands, he said quietly:
– Let me show you the way. Take your coat, it’s cold in the evening.
She nodded. Mikhail was her personal bodyguard and they became friends soon. He became her best friend in the pants, whom she could trust many things that her female friends would not understand because of their talkativeness and chronic natural curiosity. Mikhail often rescued her from various vicissitudes: rich annoying fans, love affairs and other troubles.
– Misha!..
He did not let her finish.
– Are you going to Cheburashka?
– No, I’m going to relax a bit… And I was not drinking! – She knew about his suspicions.
– Be careful, otherwise…
Now it was Elena’s turn not to let him finish.
– I remember it – “a good front crash”, – she voiced his bore argument somehow sadly.
– What? – Mikhail hesitated. – Not scary at all?
– Well, you’re threatening and threatening all the time, – Elena said, opening the door of the car.
She took her coat from the guard’s hands and threw it on the seat.
– Misha, I love you very much. I even named my son after you. You’re my best friend!
– Well, come here, I’ll kiss you, so be it.
Misha spread his hands. She laughed even harder, seeing her husband’s glance in the window, and with the tips of her lips touched lightly Mikhail’s cheeks.
– Bye, Misha.
– Call if you need me.
– Bye, – she said again and sharply took off.
Streets, lights of the big city were flashing by. She turned on the high beam.
During the first minutes she thought of nothing. Everything was left somewhere behind. It always seemed to her that problems stayed exactly where you lived. The whole area inhabited by you acquires your thoughts. You need only to go beyond it, and it becomes much easier for the soul, freedom overwhelms a tired heart.
She sighed, and then…
Pavel went out to breathe fresh spring air mixed with Moscow’s smell of cars, shimmering banners and an endless stream of people running somewhere. He was at piece. He did what he wanted: told the chief that he was an asshole.
“Lord, only two words, and it’s so easy on the soul! So calm! Only it’s not clear what will happen next. Ah, well, tomorrow will be tomorrow”.
He decided to have a walk. While walking, he tried to figure out where to go, and whether to go there at all. He ran across the road and he went to a café: decided to take a hot cappuccino there. It will be evening soon, and he felt cool, even though he was in a jeans suit. The café had Wi-Fi, and he asked for the network.
He went to “Rambler” and read: “…Elena Yarskaya crashed on the Abakumova Avenue. A child ran suddenly into the road, she wrenched away and crashed into a truck. Her…”
He ran out of the café, throwing some money for the cappuccino, and rushed to the accident site. It was very close, he had to run two blocks only. Pavel ran them without looking back, pushing people and running in front of cars. Soon he saw the accident site: a truck across the road, and what was left of Yarskaya’s car (BMW of the color of wet asphalt) – a pile of twisted iron now, and a crowd of people watching this horror. He ran closer. She was in the car. Her face, thick hair – everything was covered in blood. Pavel pushed through the crowd and tried to get to her. By the sounds she was making, he realized that she was still alive.
– Has anyone called an ambulance?! Has anyone called an ambulance?.. –
Pavel yelled with all his forces.
Everyone stood stone-still: a lean student in glasses, falling jeans and stupid blue sweater, a woman with four shopping bags in two hands, some bald hunk filming everything on his mobile phone, and a dozen of other passers-by.
– It’s Yarskaya! – Someone said in the crowd.
– So I film it because of Yarskaya, – the hunk explained calmly.
Pavel felt her pulse – she was still alive!
Remembering first aid techniques, as he recently got his driving license, Pavel gently pulled her out of the car, called an ambulance and the traffic police. According to the rules, she could not be taken away from the scene, but the same could be said about leaving her in this state on the roadway, especially knowing the “speed” of our ambulances. And he needed the first aid kit to help her. He took the liberty and moved her to a small café, which was across the road.
– That’s right, there, – the trucker, a heavyset man of short stature in a baseball cap and robe, supported him.
He stroked his mustache, took her over from Pavel’s hands and helped to carry her to the café.
– You bring her up, and I’ll wait here for the cops.
Pavel nodded and brought Elena in the café.
The waiter – the stronger one – intercepted Yarskaya and put her on the sofa.
Meanwhile, she slowly recovered, and now only moaned.
– Vasya, hang a sign “Closed” on the door. No big deal, they’ll drink elsewhere. We have something here!!! – The stronger one ordered to his slim colleague.
– Aye, understood! – An obedient boy rushed to perform the task.
– So, come on: cotton, alcohol, first aid kit, if any, – Pasha ordered.
– I’ll be back right now, – the waiter ran away.
While he was absent, Pasha took a damp cloth and wiped the blood from Lena’s forehead. Soon, the waiter returned with the first aid kit. Pasha treated the wound and gave her ammonia to smell.
Elena came to herself, sighing and moaning.
She opened her eyes.
– Oh, who are you? There’s a girl… and where am I?.. We have to go!..
She tried to get up.
– There is no need to go anywhere, – Pavel said calmly. – The