"Madeline L' Engle - A Live Coal in the Sea" - читать интересную книгу автора (L'Engle Madeleine)

dark-haired young man with bright eyes partly veiled by long lashes.
'If you don't want to say anything it's fine,' he said. 'But you're obviously
terribly upset. Do you want to talk about it?' She was outraged to the point
of
bursting: 'My mother, at this moment, is fucking my once favorite astronomy
professor.' There was no word she could use which would be vulgar enough for
what she felt. They were certainly not making love. Rose, Camilla's mother,
did
not, she thought, know what it was to love. To be loved, yes; not to love.
She hugged her' arms about herself, holding in a deep shudder. The young man
did
not reply. She looked at him as he sat quietly in the overstuffed chair with
sagging springs and rips in the red slipcover. His expression was alert and
interested, and she did not feel that she was being judged, or found wanting.
After a while he broke the silence. 'I'm really sorry. That's got to hurt a
lot.'
She got up and walked aimlessly about the shabby room, trying to pull herself
together. He waited until she returned to her chair. She said, 'Sorry. Sorry.'
'Hey, you've got plenty to be upset about. Puts my own problems into
proportion.
Where do you live? Where's home?'
'I grew up in New York.' Her voice steadied. 'Then Italy. Now we live in
Chicago.'
'But your mother's here?'
'She always comes East to buy clothes, and she likes to hop up here and be
taken
for my sister.' She added, 'She's very beautiful.'
He nodded, as though absorbing. 'I'm Mac. You?' 'Camilla.'
Suddenly the name sounded strange to her. Camilla. Camilla Dickinson. Where
was
her mother, who was making her
so incoherently angry? In some motel, she supposed, like someone in a bad
novel.
Tears welled up again; streamed down her cheeks. She knew what would happen
in
the morning. There would be promises, promises that it would never happen
again.
It was her father who was the only man in Rose Dickinson's life. Why did her
father put up with it?
She closed her eyes, suddenly overwhelmed with exhaustion and sleep. Her
mother
couldn't manage without Rafferty Dickinson. It's an illness, that's what the
shrink had said.
She opened her eyes. This was no place to fall asleep. 'Well. I've taken
enough
of your time, almost knocked you down, drowned you with my tears and my
talk-'
She stood, putting the untouched mug of coffee on the table.
He stood up, too. Shorter than she, but nicely built. 'I'll walk you back to
your dorm.'