The Suitcase / Чемодан. Книга для чтения на английском языке

His left hand abandoned a sandwich and slipped under the tablecloth.

For a minute the honoured guest’s face reflected intense concentration. Then, after emitting a barely audible sound, like a tyre deflating, the mayor cheerfully leant against the back of his chair. And picked up his sandwich in relief.

Then I lifted the tablecloth imperceptibly. Looked under the table and straightened immediately. What I saw astounded me and made me gasp. I quivered with secret knowledge.

What I saw were the mayor’s large feet in tight-fitting green silk socks.

His toes were moving, as if he were improvising on the piano.

His shoes stood nearby.

And here, I don’t know what came over me. Either my suppressed dissidence erupted, or my criminal essence came to the fore[39 - to come to the fore – пробудиться, проявиться (букв. выступить на передний план)]. Or mysterious destructive forces were at play.

This happens once in every lifetime.

I recall subsequent events in a fog.

I moved to the edge of my seat. Stretched out my leg. Found the mayor’s shoes and carefully pulled them towards me.

And only after that froze in fear.

At that moment the station chief rose and said, “Attention, dear friends! I invite you to a brief ceremony. Honoured guests, please seat yourselves on the rostrum!”

Everyone stirred. Director Konstantinov adjusted his tie. The weightlifter Dudko hurriedly buttoned the top button of his trousers.

Tsypin and Likhachev reluctantly put down their glasses.

I looked at the mayor. Anxiously, he was feeling around under the table with his foot. I didn’t see it, of course, but I could guess from the expression on his bewildered face. I could tell that the radius of his search was increasing.

What else could I do?

Likhachev’s briefcase was next to my chair. The briefcase was always with us. It could hold up to sixteen bottles of Stolichnaya. It became my job to carry it around.

I dropped my handkerchief. I bent over and stuffed the mayor’s shoes in the briefcase. I felt their noble, heavy solidity. I don’t think anyone noticed.

I locked the briefcase and stood up. The other guests were standing, too – everyone except Comrade Sizov. The bodyguards were looking in puzzlement at their boss.

And here the mayor showed how clever and resourceful he was. Holding his hand to his chest, he said softly, “I don’t feel well.