Читать книгу Miranda Sparks’ wonderful life - Danny Osipenko - Страница 8

– Take it away! I don’t need it anymore.

Miranda returned now in the evening6, and right from the threshold, she handed me the languid bag in which her friend always kept her equipment.

– What do you mean?

Miranda sat down on the couch, folded her arms across her chest, and looked at me sternly.

– Straight up. I know I’ve said it often enough, but now was really the last time I took a picture for someone.

– Again!?

My friend jumped up from her seat and ran over to me.

– I’m serious Val!

– What now?

I got tired of holding the bag and put it on the floor.

– This time, it’s definitely over!

– The end of what, Sue? Work? Travel? Or photos? To what directly!?

– All Val. I’m tired of working with people who criticize me all the time and who keep repeating that if they had taken Stefano, they would have been finished in two days. What’s disgusting about being a bit of a perfectionist in my business? Just a couple of days and I would have given them the great footage. But Mr. Paczynski, damn him, told me they only had a week left before their magazine would be stitched together. What’s that got to do with me? They could have told me right away, or called me earlier. How hard can it be, Val?

I took my friend by the shoulders and put her on the couch.

– That’s easy. But let’s you calm down for the moment, and we’ll relax and sort this whole situation out. All right?

Miranda glared at me a couple more times before she finally nodded her head.

– Well, the first step is over. – I sat down next to her. – So, how many days did you work for Mr. Paczynski anyway?

– This 5is from the moment I arrived in Australia.

– And how much was paid for you?

– For days6! But I wouldn’t return the excess to him, because his interference in the shooting process, greatly damaged my nerves. And there is still a fee for that.

I shoved my friend unhappily.

– Miranda!

– What about Miranda? You know how much those people piss me off. They’re always trying to impose their views on me. After all, I’m the photographer here, not them!

– Mr. Paczynski, as your client, has a right to make his point.

– Not him! That hog only knows where to eat. Do you know how nauseating it is when your interlocutor, with his mouth full, tries to say something else for you?

I made a disgruntled grimace.

– No, but I can imagine.

– Believe me, it’s even worse to see it with your own eyes. I almost twisted a few times right there. By God, Val, I won’t work for their magazine anymore. That’s my word of good faith to you!

– Well, that’s fine, we’ve dealt with that. Now explain to me, why do you have to give up your favorite case because of this?

Her friend got up from the couch and paced from side to side.

– Since this has been going on, it’s not the first day. I’m tired of people like Mr. Paczynski. I may like my work, but only because I can tell my story, not just another dose of sameness. It’s very hard to work for glossy publications and think the way they want you to think. That’s why I’d rather find another job than be a grayish mediocrity.

I had to take my deepest breath to continue this conversation.

– Dear Miranda. – I got up from the couch, too, and walked over to my friend and hugged her tightly. – You’re one of the hardest people to call, but you’re one of the hardest to call! You’re the only person I know who’s catchy, vibrant, and spitting your own originality. To me you are special, you are a person, just not fully disclosed. That’s your mystery. Many people underestimate your talent, creating things even more fascinating than others. Personally, I appreciate that about you! Seriously. From time to time I think your energy is enough to light up an entire major city for a couple of years to come. – I opened my arms and looked into Miranda’s face. – And you know, I’m sad to hear you say something like that. It turns out that I, too, am a grayish mediocrity who makes other people’s wishes come true.

– Sorry.

– It’s okay, it’s better to call things by their proper names.

– You know what I wanted to say.

– Naturally! We’ve known each other for years. So Miranda, I will say this, not because I’m your friend and someone close to you, but as a casual observer. You’re an excellent photographer who makes amazing things out of the ordinary, like this table or… – I spread my hands so that my friend knows what I’m talking about at this moment – or this teapot! You have everything you need. Oh, no, wait, you don’t. You have no patience.

– Hey!

– But that’s just the way it is.

Miranda strode over to her own bag, still on the floor, and scratched her head cheerfully and smirked.

– Are you sure?

– Completely.

– Do I have to break my own word of honor again?

– If it makes you feel any better, I haven’t taken your «honest» words seriously for a long time.

Miranda blinked her green eyes in surprise.

– And for how long?

– Since the day you swore not to eat any more meat.

That was eight years ago and my friend only lasted a week without him.

– So long ago!? Eh, not mind-boggling then!

My voice cracked a little when I said:

– Now I hope you won’t just give up on what you really love. So pick up your bag and keep working the way you always have.

– You’re right. I’ve been through so much for this, I can’t just give up.

I turned my back to Miranda so she wouldn’t see the tears coming, and quickly wiped them away, sat down on the couch, and turned on the TV. My friend picked up her bag and put it in the hall closet and joined me. Some kind of cooking show was on, but I hardly listened to anything they were saying.

«Mike, my sweet Mike! I’ll never forget you!»