The Before Short Story Series. Part 1

‘I told your dad that we are here and waiting for him. He sent you a big hello.’

Bella was sitting in an armchair and watching cartoons on the wall panel.

‘What do you like better—ice cream or chocolate? Bella?’

‘Mom won’t let me eat ice cream. And Dad says that eating chocolate is bad for my teeth.’

‘Yeah, good. And what do you think yourself?’

‘I love ice cream and chocolate.’

‘I thought so, Bella! I just happen to have a chocolate ice cream! Let’s make a deal like this. I’m going to make two servings of ice cream for you and me, we’re going to eat it together. And then…and then we’ll play with you! Agreed?’ Uncle Chuck smiled and looked at Bella almost like Dad.

‘All right, Uncle Chuck.’

‘Well, there! That’s quite another story! Wait here. I’ll be right back.’

There was some noise in the corridor. Someone entered the place.

‘Uncle Chuck! Ow! Are you home, Uncle Chuck?’

Uncle Chuck suddenly broke out in a cold sweat. Stunned and taken by surprise, he stood in the kitchen with two bowls of ice cream in his hands. Having recovered from shock, he put the ice cream on the table and went out into the corridor, where his mother was standing in the doorway.

‘Ah! Here you are, my dear Uncle Chuck. How are you?’

He looked his mother straight in the eye, his heart racing.

‘Where’s our sweet little Bella?’ the mother went into the living room. ‘Ah, there she is! Hello, Bella! You’ve grown up so much! You are such a beauty! Damn it!’ Entering the room, the woman hit a coffee table. She was still wearing her sunglasses, even though it was dark in the living room. The trees in the backyard, where the windows looked out, blocked the sunlight.

‘I’m sorry, Bella. Swearing is not good at all. Oh well. My name is… Tina. I’m your Uncle Chuck’s mom. It turns out that I am your great-aunt. I’m really glad that we finally met, Bella.’

The girl, confused completely, sat quietly in a chair, not knowing what to do next. She felt like crying.

‘So! Grandma commanded. ‘Crying is the last thing we need, Bella. It’s all good, isn’t it?! I’m taking you home now, baby. Your dad will be home soon. Come on, pack up and let’s go, honey. I’ll call the car now.’

‘Bella, say your uncle bye-bye,’ grandma took the girl by the hand, and they left the house.

Uncle Chuck was still standing in the dark corridor, motionless.

Sir Lawrence

‘That damn middle-aged dandy Richardson is ahead of me by 7 points. And this is only the middle of the campaign. Do you get it? By seven points! What are we going to do?! What?! What are we going to do with it?! The election is in four months. We have lost. Damn it!!’ Peter was pacing up and down the room like a wind-up toy. His noble profile was reflected in the mirrors of the bright living room, where his assistant and personal secretary were watching him going hysterical. Lord Lawrence’s evening program included a visit to the Royal Albert Hall. He was almost ready, just to change for a dinner jacket.

‘Please calm down, sir. You can’t torment yourself like that. It could end up bad. Peter, you’re not a hundred years old. So think about your health first, sir,’ his assistant tried to calm down the patron.

‘What do we have on him? Have you collected the material? Have you been able to collect any material at all? Damn you!’ He plopped down in a chair opposite his employees and his lean body jumped slightly in it, making him even more unhappy.

‘Elsa! Elsa!’ Sir Lawrence called the maid in a shrill voice. ‘Where the hell did she get to?! ELSA!

Elsa floated into the living room in a hurry:

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Tea, please, bring us tea. And cookies, as I like it.’

‘Of course, sir. I’ll do it straight away, sir. Is there anything else you’d like, gentlemen?’ She looked at her master’s guests.

‘No, thanks. Although… please bring some water without gas.’

‘Why do you need water, Mao. We’re going to have tea…well, if that’s what you want. Thank you, Elsa.’

‘So, gentlemen, what do we have on this pygmy?’ The lord persisted.

‘Sir, at the moment there is information on hand that is common knowledge. We are working on…’ Peter Lawrence took a newspaper from the coffee table and started beating with it mercilessly on the side of the chair.

‘Do you see? It was clean here a minute ago! Now, having worked on it with a newspaper, I have knocked out all the dirt and dust from this chair. Do you know how old this silk is?’

‘Excuse me, sir?’

‘That damn golden silk!’ Peter started hitting the chair with the newspaper again. ‘Almost as old as that fop and filthy American immigrant. He goes, you know, back and forth! 100 years! This chair is 100 years old and its silk upholstery as well. You have to work better! Dirt and dust are everywhere! Is it clear to you?!’

‘Yes, sir. Quite clear,’ the assistant replied.

‘Peter, the problem is that there is nothing on him at all. It’s just that everything is clean,’ Secretary Mao joined the conversation. ‘I can hardly imagine this possible at all.’

‘Here we go again! Did you both plot together today?! Are you kidding me?!’

‘Peter, I’m trying to give you the real picture, not only what you would be pleased to hear. Well, excuse me.’

Elsa brought in tea and cookies served on a small cart. After taking a few sips, Peter calmed down a little:

‘Good. Of course, I understand your arguments. But I’m sure, I’m 100% sure, more than 100% sure that this scoundrel has skeletons in his closet! Just look at him,’ Peter gestured to a panel on the wall, with the picture of Robert Harold Richardson—the lord’s main competitor in the upcoming elections to the British parliament.—He’s just perfect. Young. Handsome. Fit. His clothes perfectly chosen. His program ideal. He even has a pedigree. Although it limps a lot. And what about his wife or husband, or who does he sleep there with? What about the family? Did you search?’

‘Yes, sir. We didn’t find anything worth mentioning there. So far.’

‘It’s good that you’ve got the point—not found yet. Well, I will not go around in circles.’

‘And what about his stupid mother? With this weird kind of an actress who dragged the whole family over to the States? Worked as a cook there or whoever. I don’t remember exactly anymore,’ Peter bit into a cookie and took a couple of sips.’ I used to know her for once long time ago. When I was still very young. More than a hundred years… exactly more than a hundred years ago. Even before she emigrated to the U.S. What about her?

‘Sir,’ the assistant started, ‘when Robert got back on his feet, returning from America to England, he moved the whole family back. His mother now also lives in London. We couldn’t have gathered anything interesting on her. There’s no information at all. And his father died in the States. Liver cirrhosis. But this story has been around for so many years that it makes no sense to use it somehow.’

‘How did he get on his feet here, as you say? Who helped him and how?’ the lord definitely was not going to calm down.

‘An uncle. His uncle did well in the PR business. He had his own successful company, which he handed over to his nephew. That is to Robert. His uncle was one of the prominent gay activists in England. He invested a lot of money in the gay community support fund when this topic was relevant in the society. I mean, once the so-called gay community needed support, protection and money to lobby for its interests. Which, of course, is irrelevant now at all. But at the time, Robert’s uncle made a notable contribution to this cause.’

‘I know what you mean. There’s no need to chew everything up here for me. So maybe this Richardson likes boys too,’ Peter said hopefully.

‘Who cares now, sir,’ assistant Mao objected.

‘Well, what can one expect of this society! Nothing is of interest to anyone anymore! What are they interested in at all!’ Peter was getting excited again.

‘In my early days, having such secretive adventures, one could have paid with his career. There were times! Not interested… Look around! Search! There must be something! If you are not able to solve the issue on your own,’ the lord continued, ‘let’s check how much it will cost to delegate such job to professionals. How much is the work of a detective agency? Based on the story you have yarned to me here, I see two possible directions that should be pursued.

First. There is nothing, and everything is cleaned up.

How could it be that a person nowadays would not have a digital footprint? Well? It’s obvious even for me. And I’m already, excuse me, over 150! Second. Let’s call it boys. Let them dig into his crazy uncle and himself. Who is he dating? Who is he sleeping with? Work! Dig in, guys!

Dig in!’

Plan

Robert was sitting at his desk in his home office. Dusk was falling down. It had been dark in the office for a while, but he didn’t turn on the light.

‘Why are you sitting here in the dark, dear?’ his mother came into the office and turned on the light.

‘I was waiting for you,’ his eyes narrowed with bright light.

‘Hello, Robert,’ she came up to him and kissed him on the back of the head. ‘You look smashing as always, my boy.’

‘The genes are yours.’

‘Well, yes. What else. Maybe we’ll have some tea?’ she asked.

‘What is it?’

‘I just wanted to see you. Find out how you’re doing. How’s your campaign going? And, by the way, where is your friend… Antonio, I think. Stallion! An Italian thoroughbred stallion!’

‘A stallion in Italy.’

‘You mean in Italy?’

‘Antonio, Mom, is in Italy now. Do you need him for any reason?’

‘No, my boy. That’s just my way. Well, is everything going according to the plan?’

‘Yes, exactly.’

‘I’m very happy for you.’

‘It’s too early to celebrate yet. There are still four months to go until the end of the campaign.’

‘Of course. I remember, Robert. Tell me, do you have any kind of contingency plan?’ she gestured quotation marks. ‘How do you plan to solve problems, should they arise, of course?’

Robert took a deep breath and looked at his mother:

‘I’m working on it.’

‘I want to tell you, my boy, that I think the risks are minimal.’

"If unforeseen circumstances hadn’t interfered with my plans, Mom, there would have been nothing to solve.’

‘There’s nothing to discuss here, Robert. There are things—, she looked at him and shifted her gaze to the window, in which the golden foliage on the trees were rhythmically counting down the remaining hours until the end of autumn. ‘You know, because I never told you. When I was little, almost like that little girl, I also found myself in a similar situation. And you know, my boy, no one came to my help then.’

There was dead silence in the room.

‘Well, that was a long time ago,’ she said cheerfully. ‘I have been living in this world for almost 150 years. And I’ve seen a lot. It is, what it is. I want to tell you that I hardly see any risks.’

‘There are risks,’ Robert replied. ‘And they’re rather high. I am a public person. My voice sounds often, and it can be heard. This may be the main problem that needs to be solved. That’s how I see the situation now.’

Getting up from the chair and coming up to the door, the mother turned to him:

‘I will love and protect you always, as it has been in any circumstances, my dear boy,’ she quietly closed the door.

Robert was sitting at the table for a some time, staring into an empty aquarium, where two fish were lying on the bottom. The sticker he left a few days ago was still on the glass: Do not feed! RGR.

Before: Weather

‘Rob… Robin! Robin!… What’s going on?!’ Igor was desperately trying to get through to his daughter. Music was thundering all over the house, its destructive source was obvious to be somewhere above. Boom-boom-boom… Igor, jumping two steps at a time on a narrow staircase, dashed onto the second floor. BOOM-BOOM-BOOM! The sounds from the daughter’s room were taring apart the entire space around. A bit more and the foam blocks of the outer walls will begin to crumble like sand. Igor stopped in front of a shut door and, with his eyes closed, began to inhale deeply and exhale slowly: Deep breath and exhale… Inhale and exhale. Now I’m ready.

‘Robin!’ Igor knocked loudly and persistently on the door. The music stopped, and everything appeared to be at a standstill. A blissful silence reigned.

Robin opened the door:

‘Oh, hi, Dad. I didn’t think… I didn’t know you were back yet. Everything’s fine? You’re kind of worried.’

‘Robin, please, if you want to listen to your music… no one would restrict you. Listen. I am asking just one question: why do you think that our neighbours share your musical preferences? Have you run a survey? Do people like… I don’t know what this group is called or what it is in general…’

‘Dad, I’ve got you. But when all the receptors are working, not only the ear nerve endings, you perceive the artwork in full. Would you agree?’ sitting at a table littered with God knows what, Robin started typing something on her tablet.

‘Robin, this is a very interesting theory. But please, may I ask you to respect others at least for the sake of your own safety. Deal?’

‘Okay, Dad.’

‘Are you all right?’ Igor breathed out.

‘Yes, everything is fine. Why?’

‘I need to take some papers with me to the lab. I’ll be leaving in a couple of minutes.’