Possessed hearts - стр. 44

– If you get tired of your boring life here, come visit me in Toronto," I said goodbye and kissed him on the cheek.

– Shall I take you to the airport? – Martin asked.

– No need, thank you. I'll hire a taxi.

– Ales can drive you. What time is your flight?

Dammit! I don't have a ticket yet, and I don't know what time it is!

– Nine fifteen, but it might be delayed,'' I said. – Give me his number, I'll call him myself after I've contacted the airport.

My answer satisfied Martin. He gave me Ales' number, I kissed his cheek again, got out of the car and walked quickly into the hotel.

"I need to buy a ticket right away," I thought as I walked up the stairs after handing my wet mackintosh to the front desk. The receptionist gave me a surprised look and her eyes rounded. Like I was crazy to go out in this weather!

Luckily, I found a ticket. Ten twenty.

Ales picked me up from the hotel at eight.

1904. Warsaw. Four hundredth wedding anniversary of our parents.

Martin, Mscislav, me and Mariszka. Misha does not yet exist.

Mariszka and I are standing in a huge ballroom full of guests. We are wearing dresses from that shouty and boring era. Mariszka's dress is elegant, almost austere. Mine – bare shoulders and deep cleavage. In our hair, arranged in high bouffant hairstyles – artificial flowers. Mariszka has tiny blue violets. I have big red roses. My neck is adorned with a gold necklace with a red stone.

We watch the guests waltz, and I'm tempted to waltz too, but only with the one man I was flirting with five minutes ago. Markus Morgan. But I wasn't interested in him, no. I was only flirting with him because Mariszka is in love with him. But that's a secret only our mother and I know. And I took a keen pleasure in using that fact to annoy my little sister. And now she's standing there with her soul full of burning hatred for me. You can see it in her eyes. Doesn't speak to me. Doesn't look at me. Oh, the pleasure. The pleasure of humiliating her, this nun, this nun. Everyone's saying how modest and elegant she is. Well, with her qualities, her foolish love for Markus Morgan seems ridiculous, because he's a bad boy. He'd never look at someone like Mariszka. But I'm indifferent to him, I just want to get on my sister's nerves who's in love with him. And she's so easy to humiliate. To exploit her secret.

But Markus is busy dancing with his maternal cousin.

I feel someone's eyes on me.

Mum looks at me with a frown. I smile back at her and send her an air kiss.

Mariszka is being taken away to dance by Martin. He always cares about us, his sisters. But more for the youngest.

I am led into the circle of dancers by the beautiful vampire William Ruark Gordon, and we twirl in a smooth dance, discussing the latest news and laughing.

The next day, in the evening, we sit in the main hall, listening to a quartet of violinists. So terribly mannered, elegant. It's disgusting. Pretending to be aesthetes.

Mariszka's not here. She hasn't left her room since this morning.

This fact amuses me, and I realise with a thrill of pleasure that my goal of yesterday has been achieved.

– Please excuse us, boys. Maria and I are going for a walk," I suddenly hear my mother's voice.

I raise my eyebrows in surprise. That's it! How interesting to learn that I, without my knowledge, was going for a walk!