Glenda
Шрифт:
– Me too. Thank you. And how much is he asking for the house? – she did not allow herself to pay attention to this sly gesture.
– It seems like a hundred thousand euros. I can’t afford such a house, but I think it’s just right for you.
– Why do you think so? Didn't we fly business class together?
– Well, I flew for work, the bosses paid all the expenses. And you are going to move for a personal matter, therefore the wind is not blowing in your pocket.
“The wind isn’t blowing in your pocket? What kind of stupid phrase is this? What a boor. It's time for me to leave, I started chatting a lot with this stranger. Although if you think about it, the apartment is really inexpensive. A truly attractive offer."
Glenda smiled tightly, but her gaze remained hawk-like. Distrust oozed from her entire nature.
– Well, all the best, miss. Take care of yourself. – Patting the taxi cab, Iver sent Glenda on her way. Like a husband or father, or just a doorman, putting heavy bags in the trunk, he agreed with the taxi driver about the safety of the passenger right up to the hotel.
She saw him off in expressive silence, smiling as much as she could. This happens when you suspect someone, but don’t want to show it.
“Very strange guy. And what do I like about it? It’s like being so familiar, but at the same time dangerous.”
The unpleasant Danish language with a rough pronunciation now seemed very nice against the backdrop of all this splendor: European houses and streets, cyclists everywhere, men and women with naturally white hair and blue eyes like angels. The taxi driver was talking to the dispatcher, the radio was squealing incessantly, and Glenda was humming a new mantra to herself: “I’m starting my life again, Copenhagen is my love. I’m starting my life again, Copenhagen is my love…”
The Petri Hotel on Crystalgade turned out to be not far from the street where she was going to go today to look at a house, beautiful, expensive, and in status just right for her budget.
His pomp was expressed in conservatism and was a little reminiscent of old England. The interior is designed in an attractive Bavarian style, with textures complemented by shades of green from malachite to forest green, so reminiscent of her home in Sussex. The mother also loved to upholster everything in green; she even preferred to see her daughter in such colors. The beautiful emerald prom dress was her last gift before her death.
From such memories Glenda shivered in her chair, waiting for the registration.
Fifteen minutes later, the prompt doorman had already carried her things into a spacious room with a view of the Town Hall, as well as parquet floors, a huge bed in the middle of the bedroom and a dark azure leather sofa
She booked three days for a thousand euros, hoping to buy ready-made housing during this period, complete all the documents and move.
Chapter 2
Glenda had already had time to rest from the overnight flight and, full of energy in western jeans and a Ralph Lauren T-shirt, headed to watch the first version.
Summer in Denmark is as hot as in England. The lunch haze wiped out half of the capital's population. They hid in their air-conditioned apartments, and the most persistent wore hats.
Unfortunately, Glenda did not buy herself a hat or cap, although there was something to match her polo style. Relying on her newly curled curls, she walked boldly along the sunny side of the street.
Half an hour ago, tormented by unbearable doubts, she nevertheless called that number from the hands of a terrible and wonderful stranger. Much to her disappointment, he immediately answered the phone, and to make matters worse, he was right there. Mr. Holstein had just received the customers, and was ready to wait a little for her too. “You are incredibly lucky, Miss Miller, that the house has not yet been sold. This is a wonderful place in the very center of Copenhagen, next to the artificial lake St. Jorgen Se, shops, restaurants, cinema, clubs, and it’s like you’re taking it for nothing.”
The two-story wooden apartment building with its peeling blue paint looked clean and well-kept, just a little worn from time to time. Glenda liked the facade, although old, but cozy, it reminded her so much of home that thoughts of buying it were obsessively spinning in her head.
Mr. Holstein turned out to be an old Jew. Short in stature with a belly as round as a ball, he resembled her grandfather Beer, as his father nicknamed him for his eternal abuse of high-proof drinks, especially beer.
The unpleasant, sly smile hid some kind of trick, but she couldn’t figure out what.
A clean entrance hall, a spacious kitchen and living room, the second floor of two bedrooms simply sparkled from the recent cleaning. The smell was of fresh baked goods from a nearby pizzeria, so it was impossible to comprehend why such magnificent housing could cost so little, and even for a Jew.
– What’s wrong here, admit it right away. – the girl demanded, narrowing her hawk eye.
More recently, she was questioning administration officials in London with the same intensity, looking for clues in suspicious reshuffles in posts and the upcoming election of the British Prime Minister.
– Darling, take it and that’s it. – After a pause, the owner of the house began. He seemed startled by the question, but for a moment, no more. This happens if an actor is poorly trained, and he is thrown off by a dissatisfied exclamation from the director. Then the smile appeared again on the shiny face.
– This will not work. Confess, or I'll go home.
Unable to withstand her pressure, the old Jew nevertheless cried out.
– There are ghosts roaming here!
The thin athletic body shook in feverish laughter. This old guy has completely lost his mind. “God, how lucky I am. I buy a house three times cheaper than the market price, which, due to random circumstances, was inherited from a crazy Jew. Well, we have to take it."