INTRODUCTION

So you say the story with Sveta was fresh and uninteresting? Was it too predictable and ordinary? Do you want spectacular passions and stormy scenes, forcing tension and an indispensable happy ending? Do you want stories where melodrama is combined with porn, and spiritual catharsis alternates with physical orgasm? Well, now, accept and sign the receipt ...

BACKGROUND

Many years ago, a campaign for fixing work experience at the beginning of 2002 was held across the country. All organizations and individual entrepreneurs were obliged to provide the Pension Fund bodies with a list of all their employees with an indication of all the jobs they had ever worked for, plus army service, plus some other details about which I do not remember. This list had to be submitted both on paper and on magnetic media in the form of a file of a certain format, the failure threatened with penalties and fines, and it’s clear that for me a very hot time of work has begun.

A good half of the city passed through my computer. I just didn’t meet some surprising full names - from Hamlet Desdemonovich to Kurbangyz Elbyzdykayevna, which only posts were not listed in the workbooks - from “savior of the 1st category” to “doamer camels”. There were people with workbooks who were swollen by tabs, for whom the “job number” field had to be expanded from 2 to 3 characters, and there was a person with one single employment record book dated 1939, where instead of the ministry there was still “people's commissariat”. I was preparing lists for organizations with many thousands of staff, and for modest entrepreneurs, "and the reaper, and the reaper, and the dummy player."

People came to work to me, and home; on weekdays and weekends; from early morning to late evening. And if there were no further relations, I could easily forget about her first visit to my home.

ACQUAINTANCE

Call And I do not even remember which number she called for the first time - work, home or mobile. - Hello! Have you advertised to prepare information? - Hello! Yes I. - What conditions, what documents do you need?

I explain the requirements, find out how many people she has to register, I say the price. - Yes, it suits me. When and where to drive? I speak both the work address with instructions up to 18–00, and home after 18–00. She says that she lives near my street and will come to my house at about 7 o'clock in the evening. - Well I will wait. Goodbye! - Goodbye!

Nothing remarkable dialogue, such as I had at the time and a dozen of the day was recruited. And in the evening, she, too, was not the first visitor, but the second or third. She was not alone, but with a little boy of 12-13 years of age, I still thought at that time: probably her son. Very modestly dressed, without makeup, to take off outer clothing and a scarf refused for those few minutes while I was looking through the documents, spoke politely, but very formally. They had, as I understood it, a family enterprise, a mother of the type of manager, and she as an employee. Just looking through the workbooks, I found out her name (before she called the name of the individual entrepreneur). Last name, first name and patronymic are such that they left no doubt in its Muslim religion, well, I will call her Leila, as a typical Eastern name without reference to a particular nation.

I said that if she waited about 20 minutes, then right now I’ll bring and print everything with her, give the printout and the file on the diskette, but she replied that they are waiting for her at home, there is a lot of work and she’s better to pick it up tomorrow. still a lot of time, does not burn.

The next day, when Leila came to take back the report and pay, it already looked a little different. There was no accompanying, without a scarf, moderately made up and perfumed.Indeed, there was already the appearance of a young, attractive girl, even if not of a very young age, offhand, 25–27 years old, and not a woman over 30, or under 35, accompanied by almost a teenage son. The conversation, too, was not so formal, she allowed herself to smile, thanked with all her heart that I did what service she did for her money, asked permission to call again if there were any questions about the report, or her familiar entrepreneurs would also need such a service.

There is never a lot of clients (and especially money paid by them), so I gladly agreed that she would recommend me to someone else, and also assured that if there were errors in the report, then I, of course, would correct them completely free (although there are some errors, 2 labor and a maximum of 10 entries in them in total). And already leaving, she once again smiled at me very friendly: - DD Batkovich, it was very nice to meet you! Thanks again and goodbye! - Mutually, Leyla Nurmukhamedtarakievna! And thank you, see you soon! - I answer on the machine, I mentally reiterate its attractiveness, but also really appreciate that there will be no “meetings,” and even less “ambulances.”

DEVELOPMENT

There were no soonest meetings. But there were two calls on her behalf, when they referred not to an ad in the newspaper, but to the fact that I had made this report for Leila, would you not do it for us? Why not, of course, I will, all the pleasures for your money. There was another call from Leyla herself when she asked to make the same report for her acquaintance, and to my question why then this most familiar one doesn’t call and doesn’t come, she replied with a chuckle "Shy, probably." - And what to be ashamed of? - I wonderfully surprised, - here I did not eat you, especially the second time when you came to me without a son. - What son? - Leila was surprised. - Oh, this is not a son, this is my younger brother was with me the first time. I'm not married.

I feel with some kind of fluids that something is being planned, it cannot be that she would look for clients so easily, talked to her hunt, and commented on her family situation. I somehow looked at her and liked her, although I don’t understand why I, a bald and fat man of the Christian faith with my wife and children, attracted the attention of a young and beautiful unmarried Muslim woman? However, I do not miss the opportunity to make a compliment, create a reserve for the future, to show that I am not averse to meeting her direction: - Ah, then it is clear. And then I was also surprised how such a young girl has such an adult son? Although I thought maybe she got married right after school, then it is understandable. Regarding youth, Leyla responds in a typical way: - Oh, not so young, I, just recently turned 28. And about my thoughts about marriage, she sighed and was not doomed, but somehow sad: “No, they don't take me to marriage.” Neither after school, nor after the institute.

In general, we began a period of telephone conversations. Not often, not every day or even every week. Once or twice a month. But each conversation lasted quite a long time. Usually she called me on a cell phone from her home city, wondered if there was a stationary nearby that she could call back (this was at the time when incoming calls to mobiles were also payable), and if there was one, she called back. She told about herself and her family, about her surroundings, about national traditions and customs, and I will not say that I was delighted with the orthodoxy that reigned in her surroundings. Similarly, I answered her questions about myself and my family, about work and the environment, about music and painting. It would not be an exaggeration to say that despite only two face-to-face meetings, we became friends. And I began to understand her perfectly, to feel all the contradiction between her subtle nature and the rough environment.

Leila graduated from school with excellent grades, entered and also brilliantly graduated from an analogue of the institute of culture, but not in our region, but in the capital of one national republic.She received a specialization in music libraries, was fascinated by this business, genuinely loved classical music, she played the piano very well and sang, was a regular at theaters and museums, and after graduation ... she returned to our deeply provincial Ensk. How so? How can a young Muslim girl herself rent an apartment in a strange ...