"Carrie Richardson - Sous La Mer" - читать интересную книгу автора (Richardson Carrie)

The young think all of life is a soap opera. I suppose if they live long enough
they learn otherwise. I slammed the car door harder than was necessary, getting in. I
love my sister dearly but sometimes I donтАЩt like her very much. Suzanne and I didnтАЩt
speak all the way home.

I HAD PREPARED a simple meal of ceviche and salad, accompanied by an elegant
chardonnay, for dinner; Suzanne and I ate on the terrace facing the sea as the sunset.
The day had been clear and hot; as the light faded a breeze began to blow in off the
water, dropping the temperature to something more tolerable. While we dined a full
moon rose like a bloody tear over the water. Down on the shore the waves beat
slowly, in time to my pulse.

We said little to each other over dinner. After so many years together our
conversation had become largely non-verbal. An eyebrow lifted at the immensity of
the rising moon, a silent nod at the silhouette of some late-soaring waterbird, a fond
smile, spoke volumes. Suzanne seemed more relaxed than usual, thoughtful; several
times I caught her staring blankly out over the sea, humming something under her
breath. When I cleared the table after supper she asked me to leave her the bottle of
wine and to bring her guitar and music notebook out to her.
She played a few chords of the new song she was working on for me; the title
was тАЬSounding Sea.тАЭ I tried to read for a while, but the moonlight and the distant
mutter of the surf made me restless. I put down the book and watched Suzanne,
pencil gripped between her teeth, as she picked out a line of melody, frowned over
it, repeated it with a slight variation, then grabbed the pencil and recorded it. I didnтАЩt
want my own restlessness to interfere with her concentration.

тАЬI think IтАЩll take a walk down the shore. Can I get you anything before I go ?тАЭ

She shook her head absently. After a moment she noticed I was still there and
laughed. тАЬGo on, take your walk, dear. IтАЩll be fine. IтАЩve got everything I need to keep
me busy for hours.тАЭ
 I leaned over and kissed her hairline, right where the dark streak of her
widowтАЩs peak begins. My own pale locks have acquired a similar sprinkling of dark
hairs as IтАЩve grown older. Someday, when Suzanne and I are ancient, perhaps we
will have raven tresses and be the envy of all our acquaintances.

Our little princedom by the sea. Suzanne and I had chosen this house
precisely because, in defiance of tidal surge or hurricane, it sat so close to the water.
And it was isolated; my sister and I are private people. Now I picked my way across
a hundred yards of sand and shingle, and all the waters of the world rolled to a stop
at my feet.

The tide was coming in, bringing with it brown mats of seaweed, and, tangled
in the vegetation, thousands of the jellyfish known as Portuguese men-of-war. The
floats bobbed in the low swells, and as the waves retreated, the jellyfish were
stranded on the sands.

The bright moonlight showed me vivid, electric blue gasbags, topped with
sails of delicate pink. They ranged in size from the length of my thumb to that of a