It drizzled outside. Olive holding on to Yarpen's hand dragged him on through the puddles, bending over backwards trying to get where the huge sugar cube of the skyscraper was seen behind the trees. As the travellers were getting closer to the skyscraper Olive was quickening her step until finally she broke into a run.
"What time is it?" she asked Yarpen, and, panting, she flew into the porch of the skyscraper.
"Half past five."
"Precisely?"
"Yes."
"We've made it... Thanks to God..." she breathed a sigh of relief and leaned against a column in the lobby.
At five-thirty five a flow of employees gushed downstairs. Saltikov wasn't among them.
A quarter to six. A quarter past six. Six-thirty. Seven p.m.
Saltikov never showed up.
"Maybe he left earlier?" Yarpen suggested.
"Don't know. Maybe..."
"What are we doing here, then?"
"Let's go to his place. On Gaydar's Street."
On the way there Olive couldn't cope anymore. She took Yarpen's phone and called Saltikov. She knew he was not going to pick up her own number.
He did pick up Yarpen's number.
"Where are you now?" she yelled.
"Pumpkin, I am... um.. at work..."
"I've already been at your work - you are not there."
"No, I mean... I am not at my work, I am just... at another company..."
"When will you be home?"
"Don't know, Pumpkin... I'll call you when I'm free..."
"Ok."
Ten minutes later he called her back. Olive and Yarpen were already sitting by his frontdoor.
"Pumpkin, where are you?"
"In your porch."
"Come out in the yard, Pumpkin."
Olive came running out. After a while Saltikov, too, approached the bench she was sitting on. Without hugging or kissing Olive he sat down and lit a cigarette. He looked nervous.
"Look, Yarpen is hiding behind the garages," Saltikov said, "He must be thinking nobody can see him..."
Olive sat silently, fighting her tears. A stranger... A complete stranger...
An sms came from Yarpen:
"Olive, you are an idiot if you don't go now. Please, go, for the sake of you two."
"My friends don't want me to see you," Olive broke the silence, " They say you don't love me."
"Why do they care?" said Saltikov begrudgingly.
"They say it shows."
"Olive, do what suits you. I'm not going to stop you."
"But I love you!" she exclaimed, "It's the only reason I've come. Can't you see that?!"
He smoked in silence.
"You know what, I'm sitting next to you and I'm cold," said Olive, swallowing her tears, "Not because it's cold outside, it's because I can't feel warmth from you..."
Saltikov said nothing.
"Why did you do it to me? Why?! Why did you give me hope if you have no love for me? Now we are sitting next to each other like strangers... I have a feeling that you are going to get up now, look at your watch... and go away on the pretext of some urgent business you've got..."
"But, Pumpkin, I really need to work..."
"Bullshit. You are lying again..."
"I'm not lying, Pumpkin. I am really busy."
"You won't even embrace me, I see I no longer interest you..."
He sat silent on the other end of the bench.
"Has another woman stolen your love from me? Tell me the truth, I beg you! Maybe I've become ugly and can no longer turn you on? Or is she better than me?"
"Pumpkin, please! Let's not talk about it..."
"No, tell! You've got someone else, right?"
"I've got nobody, Pumpkin..."
"Look me in the eye! I demand that you look me in the eye!"
Saltikov hesitated a little, then he slowly turned his whole body to Olive and stared at her face, looking not in her eyes but somewhere through. He had gained an obnoxiously tacky manner of smoking, never witnessed before. He exhaled the smoke right in Olive's face, with his lower lip drawn aside like a crude lout, and she really wanted to slap him on the hand or knock his cigarette out of his month along with his teeth.
"She is so hideous..." Saltikov thought staring at her face with boredom and disgust. He found Olive uglier than ever; she looked so ugly to him that neither her hairstyle nor her makeup nor her outfit could help a bit. Saltikov noticed for the first time that the new curls made her head look bigger than her shoulders; he noticed her prominent cheekbones giving her face the shape of a triangle; her potato nose, her crossed eyes and the stupid expression of her face as if she had down syndrome. Even through the makeup it was seen with the naked eye that she had been crying at least all day and night long - her eyes, red and swollen from tears looked small like a Chenese's. Her nose and lips were swollen, too, like a Negro's. Saltikov unvoluntarily thought of pretty German Marina Stern, beautiful long-legged Lenka, large-eyed Scarlett-like Yana, clever, well-groomed Nechaeva - and, looking at this swollen, tear-strained, down face he felt so disgusted as though he was looking at a dead mouse. For a moment Saltikov could actually smell a dead mouse on Olive, and he trying hard to hide his revultion hastened to move away from her.
"Will you ever piss off, you ugly mosquito? You can go to hell with your love!" said he in his head, "I don't want you! Get it? I don't! Now, how else do I show it to you so it finally gets into your skull? Come on, say it's all over between us and fuck off!"
Olive, probably, caught the wave of his thought. But, maybe, she had known it before. She had known it but couldn't accept it. But now the time had come.
"We shouldn't see each other anymore. I'm sorry," she said to him, got up from the bench and walked away.
Olive had believed Saltikov would stay where he was giving her the opportunity to leave nicely. First two seconds he did stay, but then he rose and went after her. The promise of reconciliation beckoned to her. Now he was going to apologize and say - please, forgive me, I was such an idiot...
"Why are you following me?" asked Olive as she slowed down.
"I'm not following you. By the way, you are going the wrong way. Your porch is on the left," he pointed to Nickey's section, "And mine is on the right. Close your purse, it's undone. Well, I'm off..."
Olive stopped dead. This reply, like a slap in the face, insulted her to the core. It insulted her worse than everything else at once. It was the last straw that had broken the camel's back. A second - and Olive's open purse flew to the grass like a bullet.
"So you are off?!" she yelled grabbing him by the sleeve, "Now I'll show you the right way! I'll show you exactly the right way!!!"
And then things got really heated. Saltikov was taken aback, he couldn't even figure out straight away what was going on. He was punched and kicked and all he could do was just backing away and trying to shield his face and his testicles with his hands. Olive punched him violently in the head and in the face, kicked her legs trying to hit his balls.
"Take that, you fucking asshole! Take that, you dirty dog! For me! For Yana! For me!!!"
Olive kicked him in the stomach. Saltikov partly dodged the blow, shielding his testicles with one hand - and she was about to punch him in the mouth but she failed and just split his lip with her heavy signet ring.
"You crazy lunatic! You should be fucking put back in a home! I'm going to call the police!" he yelled.
"Just try to call them! You shitty coward!"
Whammo! He pulled away and, as he caught Olive by the neck, pushed her head down. Some people surrounded them.
"Shall I call the police?" somebody suggested.
"Yes, please." said Saltikov.
"Let her go now! Or I'll deck you, too!" cried some woman.
"She started beating me first!" he murmured letting go of Olive.
"You piece of shit!" Olive attacked him with her fists again. However, Saltikov took hold of her wrists.
"Calm down or I'll give you to the cops, and they'll send you where you should be!" he hissed.
"Where should I fucking be?"
"You know where!"
"Sure you can do this to me, you fucking coward!"
"Okay, I'm going home."
"You're not going anywhere," Olive stood in the doorway of his porch, blocking his way in. Saltikov grasped the doorhandle.
"Alright, go home and suck on your mommy's titty!" she hissed giving him way, "But know, it's not our last conversation."
And Saltikov immediately disappeared.