Читать книгу Puzzled - Seraphima Bogomolova - Страница 17

London, UK, 25 December

‘What a wonderful present, thank you so much!’ I say, flipping through the book, ‘I love books and this one seems to be a special one!’

‘Oh yes, it looked like it,’ he nods, ‘I saw it in one of the antique shops and thought you might like it …’

He collects his Tarocchi cards from the table and stands up.

‘I must go.’

I take him to the hall and kiss him good-bye. His bristled cheek gives me a tickle. He puts on his Russian ushanka-hat and starts out, slowly walking away. A ribbon of fresh footprints trails behind him in the snow.

‘Merry Christmas!’ I shout after him.

Turning around, Nicolas waves and shouts back: ‘Merry Christmas!’

I close the door and stand a little while in the hall then head to the dining room and start clearing the table. As I’m arranging plates in the dishwasher I think of what Nicolas half-jokingly has predicted for me. What did he say? ‘Overdoing on self-reflexivity?’

I suddenly remember that I haven’t had a chance to read the email that caught my attention before the arrival of Nicolas yesterday.

I take my iPad. At once, the screen lights up.

The message is dated the 24th of December. I begin to read it but stop and double-check the name at the end of the letter, then the email address that it’s been sent from. Apparently, it’s no hallucination.

It’s him.

But why now, why after months of silence he suddenly decides to reconnect with me?

I read his letter again but it doesn’t become any clearer.

My dearest, been thinking of you again. Yours L.E.A.

What on earth does he mean by ‘been thinking of you again’? How could he have been thinking of me again, if we haven’t been in touch for months? And, for that matter, have never seen each other either.