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The chaos that followed Sharik's presentation to the militiamen had transferred from professor's study room onto the main staircase. A loud cacophony of various upset voices echoed through the storeys until disappearing when its conductors left the building through the main entrance.
At the same time, a different group of upset voices echoed through professor Preobrazhensky's study room.
„Thank God they came after we removed the stitches on his head and not before! Oh, how lucky we are, so-“
„Oh look, Darja Petrovna, the floor is completely covered in dust! Oh no, it's everywhere, even on the carpet and here-“
„Oh no, indeed. Animals, these militiamen, dirty scoundrels! And I thought the dog was terrible-“
„-and here and here and-“
„How rude to storm into one's flat in the middle of the night! I'm not even wearing a tie! And my hair is such a mess-“
„Do not use improper expressions in the flat!“
„Silence, Sharik!“
"Poor girl, you'll have to clean it in the morn-"
„It doesn't look as bad as you think, Ivan Arnoldovich.“
„But I just cleaned the carpet two-“
„Oh, Philip Philippovich, I can't believe you actually told them it was atavism! You were so convincing, I believed you every-“
„That is because I meant every word of what I said. We truly don't possess the power to-“
„Zina, you'll have to ask Fyodor if he has some gall soap left over, this stain here won't go away that ea-“
In the corner of the room, an antique, richly decorated clock rang solemnly to announce it was two in the morning. All the talk in the room ceased in a second. They all looked around the room and then at each other, as if surprised they are all actually here.
There was all five of them. There were the servants, both in their nightgowns and handmade plaids, Darya Petrovna with her pincurls and Zina with her cute disdain for the dirty floor. There was doctor Bormental, hastily clad in his shirt and trousers, with unruly curly hair and a bare neck he was still halfheartedly trying to cover. There was professor Preobrazhensky in his azure dressing gown, looking ten years younger than three days ago. And then there was Sharikov, the main spectacle of the night, with his linen hospital gown, hairy limbs, dull expression and a barely healed wound all around his skull.
„Doctor Bormental, would you be so kind and returned Sharik back to from where you fetched him?“ asked professor Preobrazhensky calmly, breaking the silence.
Bormental just smiled at him, carefully touched Sharik's elbow and with kind words led him into the depths of the flat.
„Look at the floor, Philip Philippovich, look at the mess those hooligans have made here!“ Darya Petrovna pointed out, expecting sympathy.
„I cleaned the carpet two days ago,“ Zina reminded them sulkily.
„Don't worry about the floor, Zina, it can wait until tomorrow,“ answered professor with a calm smile.
„In the morning, I'll go upstairs and fetch in here that little Shwonder or what's the devil's name!“ exclaimed Darya Petrovna bitterly. „He brought the militia here – he should clean the mess they made. It's only fair!“
„No!“ declared Bormental from the hallway, returning to the study room. „I meant it earlier. If Shwonder ever sets foot into professor's apartment again, I will personally throw him down the stairs.“
Professor Preobrazhensky was unable to contain himself any longer and started laughing out loud.
„Please, stop, I beg you,“ he managed through the giggles. „I beg you for the love of God. Sharikov is finally gone, never to return, and Shwonder or anyone else can't do anything about it whatsoever! Don't you understand? We are finally safe! So please, do not fight over some dirty carpet!“
All three addressees of that exclamation ceased their bickering in an instant, though Zina still eyed the one carpet stain disdainfully.
„Oh, my God. I don't think I'll be able to fall back asleep after this,“ continued professor in amusement as he looked at Bormental.
„Me neither,“ announced Darya Petrovna right away. „I mean, that devil accused us of murder! I thought I'm gonna have a stroke.“
„I'm in no mood for sleep neither,“ added Zina.
„How do you feel about it, Ivan Arnoldovich?“ asked professor considerately. „Are you tired?“
„Oh, truth be told, I'm tired to hell and back, but I just know I won't lie still tonight,“ answered Bormental honestly, his hand finally slipping from his neck, uncovering pinky blotches from all the friction. He noticed that professor noticed it.
„Alright, well, what about we just sat all together and had a chat about what's been going on?“ suggested Darya Petrovna, excitement palpable around her. „I could make us some nice fresh tea – or whip up something stronger maybe...“
„That's not the smartest idea, Sharik must rest,“ countered professor right away. „The flat should be as quiet as possible.“
„Oh, we can sit in the kitchen, if you gentlemen don't mind,“ continued Darya Petrovna. „It's across the hallway from the other rooms, the dog will have his peace.“
„It's true,“ agreed Zina, facing professor, „everytime I am in the study room or the operating theatre and Darya Petrovna calls for me from the kitchen, I can barely hear her.“
„See?“ exclaimed Darya Petrovna, glad of Zina's support. „Let's go to the kitchen, we'll make ourselves a nice evening out of this.“
„What do you think, Ivan Arnoldovich?“ professor turned directly to him.
„Well, I'm tempted,“ admitted Bormental, pleased to know his opinion mattered to professor. „Maybe we could sit together for a few minutes...“
„Alright, as you will,“ professor gave up and held his hands high, though visibly amused. „Maybe we'll get tired along the way and get some sleep after all.“
The kitchen wasn't large or exceptionally fashionably furnished but Darya Petrovna claimed it as her kingdom and treated it accordingly. The floor was so clean that one could eat off of it, just as any other surface in the room. Above the wooden counter, various sizes of pots and pans hung - every perfectly scrubbed pot shone mildly in the dim light, whereas every pan was as black as shungit – and above the stove there hung many types of herbs, filling the air with intricate smell. Every inch of space was utilised, therefore the room had immense potential to appear cluttered. Anyway, it somehow seemed welcoming and homely even in the deep of the night. Professor Preobrazhensky and doctor Bormental didn't come here very often – just as Darya Petrovna wasn't a regular in the operating theatre – these two universes simply didn't collide on a daily basis, but when they did, they inspired some kind of silent wonder in the visitor and pride in the host.
„Sit down here, gentlemen, sit down,“ Darya Petrovna ushered them all in, gesturing to a small wooden table by the stove. „Zina, help me fetch two more chairs for us.“
The women disappeared for a little while and the men were left alone in the kitchen.
„Remember, Ivan Arnoldovich“ professor whispered urgently, leaning to him across the table, „they mustn't know we operated him again.“
„Of course, I'll be as silent as a grave,“ promised Bormental quietly and solemnly.
Professor nodded and continued whispering: „It's not that I don't trust them, it's just that I know sometimes people say more than they mean to and then it's already too late to take it back. In this specific matter, it could mean problems for all of us.“
„I understand,“ Bormental whispered back as Zina and Darya Petrovna returned to the kitchen with their chairs.
„So, gentlemen, what would you like?“ asked Darya Petrovna cheerfully. „What about some nice tea with rum? Or maybe grog, hm? Sounds nice?“
„Oh, Darya Petrovna, please don't bother yourself with it too much,“ mumbled Bormental humbly immediately.
„Grog sounds just fine, thank you, Darya Petrovna,“ answered professor with a smile. Darya Petrovna smiled right back at him and started bustling around the kitchen with Zina at her side.
„So, since the old villain is back to being a dog again,“ started Darya Petrovna while setting water to boil on the stove, „everything will go back to as it's always been, won't it, Philip Philippovich? Zina, fetch the rum, darling.“
„Yes, Darya Petrovna, we hope it will,“ answered professor. „He seems to be making great progress at becoming a good dog again.“
That was a piece of God-honest truth: the eighth day after the surgery was the last day their patient had an epileptic seizure. The ninth day, two days later than originally planned, his stitches were removed. Sharik's hair was growing nearly in front of one's eyes and his facial structure was changing back to something more canine. It almost seemed the half-finished and probably wrongly recited prayer from a few days ago worked, Bormental wondered.
„Oh, you can't imagine how grateful I am to hear that,“ sang Darya Petrovna from beside the stove. „One more sound of broken glass anywhere in the flat and I would have ripped his head right off. Heaven-sent thing, that alibism.“
„Atavism,“ muttered Zina almost inaudibly as Philip Philippovich and Ivan Arnoldovich exchanged amused looks at the table.
„We are grateful as well,“ replied Bormental, his smiling eyes never leaving professor's, „it is truly a miracle.“
„So, if this dog thing is over,“ asked Zina suddenly, a flask of rum in her hands and uncertainty in her voice, „will you go back to your own apartment, doctor Bormental?“
Bormental expected this question to come at some point and he wasn't looking forward to it. However, this was too early and from the wrong person. He found himself unable to produce a suitable answer fast enough and professor replied instead.
„Doctor Bormental will leave when I have no use of him here anymore.“ His tone brokered no argumentation, left Zina beet-red with embarrassment and Bormental slightly perplexed.
„But Zina is right, Philip Philippovich, I will have to leave eventually,“ commented Bormental to support Zina, to soften the tone of the conversation. „Considering I'm not registered here in your flat-“
„Oh please, my dear Ivan Arnoldovich,“ exclaimed professor, his voice annoyed with a tint of rage, „do not speak of this bolshevik nonsense, especially not now. Do you think anyone would actually care about you living here, if Sharikov didn't denounce you? Furthermore,“ he laughed and his tone softened, „do you actually think Shwonder will ever return to this flat to investigate your position? He has been warned of his fate.“
Bormental laughed quietly alongside with him and Darya Petrovna as she set tall cups made of thick glass on the table.
„I don't want to anger you, Philip Philippovich, but-“
„So don't do it, my dear.“
„I have to return to my flat, though,“ continued Bormental as gently as he could. „I haven't been there for weeks and I haven't slept in there since last year.“
„But it's April,“ wondered Darya Petrovna as she poured smoking hot liquid into the thick glasses. „Don't you miss your own place? Doesn't anyone expect you to come back home? Zina, teaspoons.“
„No, I live alone, Darya Petrovna,“ Bormental chose his words very carefully as he felt intensely scrutinized by professor. „And even though my flat can't be compared to this one in any way, I mustn't overstay my welcome here.“
„Oh, stop with this nonsense, Ivan Arnoldovich,“ stated professor blankly, not meeting Bormental's eyes while agitatedly swirling his grog with a teaspoon Zina just brought. „You are always welcome here, you have always been. Therefore, there is no rush for your departure – other than your own personal reasons you might have.“
„I don't have any-“
„See?“ Darya Petrovna pointed out fiercely, cutting off Bormental's answer. „It was a nightmare to share one roof with that shaggy scoundrel, and you couldn't get him out of here for love nor money, Philip Philippovich. And here with doctor Bormental, it's completely the opposite! How come the best ones always leave us...,“ she ended her speech with a sigh as she sat down at the table next to Zina.
„I won't leave for good, I will just-“
„Of course you won't, Ivan Arnoldovich. Anyway, there is enough time to talk about that later, I'm sure,“ concluded professor, finally looking into Bormental's eyes. „You and I still have a lot of work to do with Sharik. Then we'll see. And please, let's not talk about it any further.“
They left the theme of Bormental's leaving, much to both men's joy, and the conversation flooded the kitchen comfortably. Darya Petrovna was absolutely bewitched by Bormental's knowledge of the herbs hanging above the stove.
...back in Vilno when I was a boy, my mother used to hang these out everywhere...
Zina got dizzy after half a cup of grog and didn't really speak much in effort to keep sitting upright.
...parsley, dill, lovage,...
Philip Philippovich spent most of his time watching doctor Bormental through heavy eyelids. Bormental felt his gaze on him and tried to act nonchalant upon the realisation, but immediately mistook rosemary for thyme and made a fool out of himself in front of laughing Darya Petrovna.
...is that marjoram? You put it in that delicious soup the other day...
From the depths of the flat, there came a chime of the antique clock again: it was three in the morning.
„I don't know about you but I'm deliciously tired,“ stated professor Preobrazhensky, finishing his grog. „I think I have a very fair chance of sleeping like a newborn baby tonight.“
Bormental tried to supress yawning but couldn't, instead focused on covering his mouth and not dislocating his temporomandibular joint. Professor smiled at him understandingly.
„Wouldn't you like another cup of grog for good night, Philip Philippovich? Doctor Bormental?“ offered Darya Petrovna readily.
„It was very nice, but no, thank you,“ refused Bormental graciously.
„I won't have another one either, thank you,“ answered professor, „but if you'd like some more, Darya Petrovna, I think Zina won't mind if you drink hers.“
Zina was sound asleep on the chair, her short-haired head slouched to one side.
„Oh God, I shouldn't have made the grog so strong for her,“ lamented Darya Petrovna, finishing the rest of Zina's glass in one gulp. „Oh wow, that was strong! Poor child.“
„She'll have a good night's rest, no doubt,“ commented professor good-heartedly as he raised from his chair as quietly as possible. „Anyway, thank you for this idea, it was very pleasant. See you in the morning.“
„Good night, Darya Petrovna, and thank you,“ said Bormental quietly on his leave out of the kitchen as Darya Petrovna tried to wake up Zina gently, just to get her into her bed.
When the men arrived in the study room, there was suddenly an awkward silence for a moment – even though seconds ago Bormental had his head full of topics he wanted to discuss with professor without Zina and Darya Petrovna, his head was as empty as it could be. He briefly caught his reflection in the glass pan of one of many vitrines and shuddered in embarrassment.
„Did I really spend all this time with all of you with my hair in this state?“ he exclaimed disbelievingly and tried to smooth down his wild curls. „As if it wasn't enough I didn't have time to put my tie on.“
„Stop it, you'll ruin them,“ opposed Philip Philippovich from behind him. „I truly don't understand why do you dislike your hair so much. I find it rather... lovely.“
Bormental turned around abruptly to see professor directly.
„Thank you, Philip Philippovich,“ he breathed out.
„And you also shouldn't worry about that tie too much.“
Professor's eyes were fixated on Bormental's bare neck. His gaze alone caused Bormental's throat to cover itself in crimson blotches, as if it knew nothing better.
„But it's not... it's not decent, to be caught without a tie,“ argued Bormental weakly, the crimson spreading to his cheeks.
„I won't tell on you,“ laughed Philip Philippovich and continued, „besides, those policemen are imbeciles. They didn't even ask why is the dog's head shaved. Nobody gave a damn about why a dog, which has been missing for ten days, has an approximately ten days old incision on his head. So please, stop worrying about some tie. Half of them can't even tie a knot on their shoes, let alone know anything about proper menswear.“
„You're too harsh on them, Philip Philippovich,“ managed Bormental through the giggles. „We were very lucky our case is so exceptional. And that Sharik shocked them so much. 'Do not use improper expressions it the flat!' Out of all the phrases known to him, he picked that one to yell at the inspector, would you believe it?“
„That is the thing, we were lucky,“ stated professor in agreement and eyed him closely. „But Ivan Arnoldovich, wouldn't you mind if I tried my luck one more time today?"
Bormental swallowed heavily and breathed out an 'of course'.
„Would you be so kind to do me the pleasure and the honor,“ asked Philip Philippovich after taking a deep breath, „of staying here in the flat? Indefinitely, I mean? Of course, you have your own personal interests, I understand, but I... I got rather used to you being here always at hand, if you get my point-“
„Yes, Philip Philippovich, yes, of course, I will stay here until you don't need me,“ replied Bormental readily and honestly, even though the last segment of his answer was hard for him to articulate.
„And what if I don't need you here?“ opposed professor in a much quieter voice. „What if I want you here?“
„Then you'll have me here for as long as you want me,“ blurted Bormental without hesitation, blushing deep red when he realised what actually came out of his mouth.
Philip Philippovich's eyes lit up but he kept his expression courteous.
„What a lucky day it is today,“ he noted with a quiet excitement. „Or a lucky night, to be correct. That being said, we should really get some sleep or we'll be of no use in the morning. Good night, my dear.“
They bid goodnight civilly and left the study room through different doors – professor for his bedroom, Bormental for the reception room he used to share with Sharikov. Bormental was absolutely sure he'll stay awake until sunlight. However, when his head touched the pillow on the couch, he was immediately knocked out.