The Suitcase / Чемодан. Книга для чтения на английском языке

The chains creaked and the stone swayed. Likhachev kept shouting, “Keep away!”

At last the marble lump was suspended. We took down the chain and stepped back a respectful distance. From afar Lomonosov looked better.

Tsypin and Likhachev drank in relief. Then they prepared the epoxy.

We left near dawn. The formal unveiling was at one.

Likhachev came in a navy suit. Tsypin wore a suede jacket and jeans. I’d had no idea he was a dandy. What’s more, both were sober. That changed even the colour of their complexions.

We went underground. Well-dressed, sober workmen (although many of them had suspicious bulges in their pockets) strolled among the marble columns.

Four carpenters were quickly finishing off a rostrum. It was being set up under our relief.

Osip Likhachev lowered his voice and said to me, “There’s a suspicion that the epoxy has not hardened. Tsypin put in too much solvent. Basically, that marble fucker is hanging by a thread. So when the rally starts, stay to the side.

“But the cream of Leningrad will be standing there! What if the thing falls?”

“Might be for the best,” the foreman replied wanly.

The celebrated guests were to appear at one o’clock. The city mayor, Comrade Sizov, was expected. He was to be accompanied by representatives of Leningrad society – scholars, generals, athletes, writers.

The programme for the opening was this: first a small banquet for the select few. Then a brief rally. Handing out of certificates and awards.

The guests arrived at 1.20. I recognized the composer Andreyev, the weightlifter Dudko and the director Konstantinov. And, of course, the mayor.

He was a tall, middle-aged man. He looked almost intellectual. He was guarded by two grim, beefy guys, who were distinguished by a light air of melancholy, evidence of their clear readiness to get into a fight.

The mayor walked around the station and lingered in front of the relief. He asked softly, “Who does he remind me of?”

“Khrushchev[38 - Khrushchev – Хрущев, Никита Сергеевич (1894–1971), советский государственный деятель.],” Tsypin whispered to us with a wink.

The mayor did not wait for an answer and moved on. The station chief, laughing obsequiously, ran after him.