POZDYNYSHEV
After several hours, our conversation reached its natural ebb and so I walked him to the door to bid our farewells. And there it might have ended. Just like that. Two old acquaintances catching up one morning – never to be in one another’s company again, but something – some devil inside of me decided to reach out and I found myself saying, ‘Wait, no. You mustn’t go yet. You haven’t even had the pleasure of meeting my wife.’
Beat.
It only took him a moment. She had just come in from her morning walk and arrived at the study in her coat, her – purple scarf thrown around her shoulders, her hair a little wild form the wind, but she looked nothing short of – breathtaking. Trukhachevski took a step backwards when he saw her, almost stumbled. Not what he’d expected, clearly. Well. Not from a man like me.
I saw his eyes brighten as he introduced himself. Hers lower as she muttered her ‘hellos.’ Then they looked up and for a time, that seemed, to me, to last for several hours, they took each other in.
Perhaps he lights another cigarette. Lets this sink in.
Had they been beasts in a forest there is nothing surer than they would have been rutting right there. I know men. I knew my wife. I saw the invitation.
She broke their gaze first, Trukhachevski quickly followed suit. She took on a look of the utmost sincerity and began to ask questions of the most banal kind. Where did he live? How long was he staying? Had he many people to visit? He answered pleasantly, politely, even – glanced for my approval at moments. Eventually I lost patience. ‘The two of you have much more in common than you realise,’ I said. ‘My wife is a musician too.’
His interest was immediately aroused. Didn’t take a minute to extend his offer. He would be happy to accompany her playing, any day that suited while he was still in town. My wife blushed right up to her eyelids. Stuttered and stammered and called herself a novice, not nearly good enough. ‘Nonsense,’ I said. ‘You must play with him.’ And I invited him for dinner that night.
He sits back allowing this to settle.
At court, it was asked if I planned it. Or – or if I set the whole thing up as a test? Well, I couldn’t have said this to a judge of course, but the only possible answer was…what was there to test? When you know who a person is, you know what they’re capable of. You know their interests and desires and just how far they’ll go – you know what attracts them and you know what bores them and after a while…it’s you.