Переводчик Чиркова Елена Андреевна

The scene is laid in an unusual flat. A small kitchen is reconstructed into a dressing room.  In front of a gas-stove with two cooking rings there is an antique dressing table with mirrors.   On the table there are makeup and powder containers, makeup brushes, face creams. By the window stands a small fridge. A sink is full of dirty dishes. On the dining table, beside the gas-stove are carelessly left twisted film reels. Besides the kitchen, there is also a stupefying spectacle of a bedroom.  All the walls are curtained off in black velvet. The windows are curtained off as well. Upon the floor rest scattered everywhere film reels.  On a small table in the corner there is an old Soviet video camera “Kiev”. Nearby stands an old tripod. 
On the far central wall there’s a white television screen flickering in the darkness. Under it stands an antique ottoman. Opposite to it can be seen an old antediluvian projector turned to the screen. During all the play this screen is of primary importance. In the course of the motion pictures or slides, it illustrates the era and the events taking place on the stage. No other furnishings fill the flat but the ottoman, a small table and a stool. A yellowed “The woman with the Scar” movie poster can be seen on one of the walls. Because of poster's senility it becomes clear, that it depicts The Great Patriotic War ages film. The poster shows the film’s main heroine . That young girl of the poster only vaguely resembles  hopelessly aged actress Vera Ivanovna Shumilina.

Mother has been unemployed for six months. And after six months she changed beyond recognition. We starved. We saved ourselves from doom by going on visits. We visited almost the whole village. Somewhere they sympathized with us in our sorrow, some people did not. One day they fed us with schi – a cabbage soup with meat. The soup was just prepared and extremely hot. But the owners of the house said they were in a hurry, and we were given just five minutes for a dinner. I burned my palate so that I hardly could speak. But we have kept in time and even thanked them. When we arrived home, mom was crying. And asked me to forgive her.
And then my mom was lucky, she found a job. Her friend Valentina Semenovna, worked in a library and helped my mother to find a job there as a charwoman. As for me, I started to read books. I discovered lots of striking books. No matter how miserable was life around me – in the novels everything was different: romantic getaway, fantastic adventures and love. I swallowed books of all genres. And one day I came across a tattered book of Chekhov. There were mostly stories and only one play - "The Seagull".
At that time I associated seagulls with nothing but the sea, and I was ready to read another adventure story. But it had nothing to do with sea. It was about theatre. And love.  I was shaken by this book. I fell in love with Nina Zarechnaya, just like a little girl falls in love with elder ones. I admired her, I was proud of her and couldn’t not help crying because of impossibility to help her. Since that time I wanted to become an actress.

Zagorsky forgot about me as soon as crossed the threshold of the embassy. But I'm not even upset, because they all turned to be in a fairy tale. Ambassador met all the guests in evening suit. The ladies were in evening dresses and men intail-coats. Champagne flowed, the band played, and the air was amazing. I don’t know whether it was a floral scent from exotic plants, which were set at the embassy, ​​or the spirits of women fragrance. And all this after smell the hospital where I spent almost two years. But Orekhov returned me to the ground. I saw him in the hall, he wanted to pass on, but I detained him. "You see, what am I now?" And he told me: "The special charisma, Vera, this scar. Charisma. Hear what quibble: Your disease is charisma". "You're still going to shoot me?" And he said: "Unfortunately, I cannot go against my principles, you know, that I do not shoot the same actress twice. By the way, congratulate me on the Stalin Prize. For the same movie you nearly disrupted. "

These days gave me the moments of lofty happiness. There was peace and happiness. It is always so bright but lasts for a short while. I played Nina Zarechnaya. Audience was fond of me, for what reason - admiration or sympathy, or whether it was the incense of flattery - it doesn’t matter. The press wrote about me in glowing terms and insisted that I am – the best Nina. They said I can bring out every feature of a man or of a landscape in a single line, and my characters live and breathe.
John did not miss any of my performances. And sometimes I felt like I was playing for him… After the performance we were wandering around Moscow. I bathed in his love, his attention, his affection. Nina Zarechnaya and John Mitchell filled my being with an extraordinary joy. And I had nothing else to need.

Stalin had finished reading Shumilina’s manuscript.
STALIN: And is that all? Where are the horrors of the West? Where is the power of criminal authorities? Where is the oppressed working class? We arranged for Shumilina the best conditions. We rent a room at the hotel "Moscow", attached a good literary editor. Every morning we delivered lunch from the restaurant. We spent six months for it. And what is the result? Some snivel and self-promotion. Our enemies should award Shumilina with the Nobel Prize for this book. According to it, their medicine is better, their roads are better and human relations are more sincere. (Throws the manuscript into the wastebasket.) 
She has enjoyed my kindness for eleven years. For eleven years I have helped her and have waited for another infamy. That’s enough. Shumilina have to be returned where I have pulled her once. In Suhaya Polyanka. To her mother. Let her see the fruits of her upbringing. It will be cruel, but fair. And there is no theatre there - who cares about citizen’s Shumilina artistic career?
Let her look for another job. In the Soviet Union all occupations are in high esteem. (Picks up the phone): Tomorrow Shumilina must be exiled to her village. And don`t take your eyes off her. She came out of the enemy's lair. She danced with Churchill. And no correspondence with her husband. He is not her husband any more? Has she been divorced? All right. But the fact that she took his name isn`t good. How do you say – Vera Mitchell? Sounds disgusting.

My book was called "The Return of the Native." I described in it all the misers of life, I put all my tortured soul into it. And they did not even return the manuscript. The book was completely gone, and I was summoned to the Central Committee and announced about my expulsion from Moscow. I had one dayto get ready. My life was over. I went back to the hotel and left a note for Stalin: "Once you’ve made me happy, and then filled my life with everlasting horror. You once gave me wings, and then ruthlessly slashed them. "I am the Gull ... Do you remember how you shot a seagull once? A man chanced to pass that way and destroyed it out of idleness”.... you gave and took away, enjoying my suffering. I would just like you to safely and happily await my death, but I can’t forgive you. Again, I want you to hear my voice, and I would say to you: "Beware. Watch out! Grief is not for those who suffer, it`s for the one who causes suffering. "
Then I took out a bottle of poison and drank. Unfortunately, the security follow me, and did not allow me to die.