Happiness is Possible Read Online Free PDF

country’s the country.’
    â€˜Oh, come on,’ Dmitry Pavlovich protests. ‘I see you’ve got apples over there.’
    â€˜Big deal, apples . . . Apples grow at your hacienda, don’t they, Pavlich?’
    â€˜Na-ah . . . Tomka grows those whatsits there . . . orchids. And they smell of shit.’
    He casts a sidelong glance at Tamara, and he’s not wrong – she admonishes him.
    â€˜I don’t like it when you talk like that. It’s not becoming to a man.’
    Tamara wants her Dima to appear
comme il faut
in my company.
    â€˜And incidentally,’ she continues in a defiant tone, ‘while we’re on the subject, it smells of that round here without any orchids. And his apples are only good for compote.’
    â€˜Well, compote’s something at least . . .’ Dmitry Pavlovich is squinting sideways at me now. ‘And as for the stench, Bunny, you’re wrong there – there’s no smell like that . . .’ – and, deliberately taking another deep breath, he unexpectedly sucks in a midge and gives a shrill sneeze.
    To put an end to their quarrel, I invite both ‘bunnies’ inside. But even here the theatricals continue. Tamara assumes an air of no-nonsense solicitude and checks the cleanliness of my kitchen. Dmitry Pavlovich demonstrates his relaxed amiability and common touch by taking a seat in Phil’s armchair without being asked. I don’t drive him off: let his expensive trousers collect a good thick coating of dog hair. The only reason Phil doesn’t growl at him is because he’s already investigated the bags that arrived with the visitors and now he’s pretending to be a cute little doggy, in hopes of rich pickings. An understandable motive, if not very pretty. But just why I am pretending to be a cute and affectionate relative is something I can’t explain.
    The day passes in the way that a summer day at the
dacha
should: in glorious idleness. So that it will be remembered for nothing but this state of drowsy, delightful drifting. The scene in my garden is a kind of orgy in reverse, with the four of us relaxing in the style of a pride of lions. Philip sprawls in the shade under a bush. Tamara sunbathes on the grass, displaying her lack of cellulite. Dmitry Pavlovich, as the dominant male, reclines in the hammock with a newspaper. And I am also installed rather comfortably in an old wicker armchair. To avoid dozing off completely, Dmitry Pavlovich and I do the crossword as a team. The division of labour is as follows: I give the answers and he writes them in with a pencil.
    â€˜A composer beginning with G.’
    â€˜Gounod,’ I reply.
    â€˜Doesn’t fit. Five letters’
    â€˜Gluck, then.’
    â€˜Well done, the writer . . . Right, next . . . A condition of an insurance contract . . . ten letters, starting with D . . . Oh, that’s deductible!’
    â€˜That’s my great brain!’ Tamara purrs from the grass.
    I thought she wasn’t listening to us. That’s the first word her Dima has guessed.
    â€˜Damage,’ Dmitry Pavlovich continues.
    â€˜Injury,’ I reply.
    â€˜No, only four letters.’
    â€˜Loss, then.’
    â€˜Loss, loss . . . Right . . .’
    Dmitry Pavlovich suddenly jerked his head up and swayed in the hammock.
    â€˜Listen, today Tomka and I saw this little scene – it might come in handy to you as a writer. This tramp and his lady tramp are swearing at each other in an underground passage. He hits her, and she yells at him: “Do you want to lose me?”.’
    A pause.
    â€˜Is that it?’
    â€˜Well yes . . . “Do you want to lose me?” – it’s hilarious.’
    â€˜I don’t see anything funny about it,’ Tamara puts in.
    I agree with her.

VASKOVO-MOSCOW
    Have you ever found yourself in the