Sixth and Death

Dedicated to my cousins Marina and Yana

Well, I hate tasks like these. When the time and the location are given. This is exactly what came in just now. The time was said to be in three days. The location, apart from latitude and longitude, contained an address: a street, a house number and an apartment number.

That meant that in this apartment something would happen during this time. Most probably somebody would die. And I have to be there in order to support the other one, who would survive.

Too bad that I can’t turn down these tasks. They are pretty rare but they occur.

I finished the pilaw I cooked the day before and drank some tea. I browsed through two tasks which Referent M sent me to my mailbox. Then I got dressed and went outside.

The house mentioned in the message was located a block away from my den. I reached it on foot.

I went up to the fifth floor and rang the bell.

A man in his fourties opened the door. Average constitution, grey hair on the temples.

- Greetings, - he said, - you’re visiting Olya?

- Both, - I replied, - may I come in?

- Sure, - the man stepped aside and introduced himself, - Vladimir.

- The Sixth Angel, - I introduced myself after shaking his hand.

- Are you serious? An angel? – a female voice sounded.

In the depth of the apartment a woman was standing. She was in her thirties, dark blond hair, long face, dressed in shorts and an undershirt. Surprisingly beautiful legs were sticking out of those shorts.

- Dead serious, - I replied, - I can show you my certificate. Or will you trust my word?

- We’ll do, - the woman smirked, - would you like to eat something?

- Yes, please, - I said smelling borsht.

It smelled good. My watering mouth nearly made me choke when the three of us entered the kitchen and I saw the Ukrainian buns called „pampushka“.

We sat and ate in silence. The couple gave me suspicious looks but didn't haste with questions. In the meantime I delightedly ate my borsht with pampuskas and garlic sauce. I tried something similar a long time ago in Kiev.

- Do you have any stewed fruit? – I asked upon finishing my plate.

- I have a fruit drink, - Olya smiled, - made of sandthorn.

We drank the fruit drink and kept the silence.

- Lay it out, - Vladimir was the first one to lose his patience.

- Alright, listen up, - I said twisting the glass with the remains of the fruit drink in my hand – I’m your guardian angel, name's Sixth.

- Of both of us or just of one of us? – Vladimir asked.

- Of one of you, - I said and froze.

I didn’t know who of them would be the one to die in three days. For some reason the letter didn’t mention anything about it. And here I showed up at my wards without even asking. At my ward, to be exact. Whoever of them both it was supposed to be. The tension caused me some serious headache.

- So whose angel are you? – Olga asked with a smirk.

- Of one of you, - I mumbled, - you’re going to face some trouble, so I was sent to save you.

- And why is your name „Sixth“? – Olga asked with the very same smirk.

- I was born at the sixth hour, - I replied, - and when my birth certificate was issued, someone mixed up the name with the time I was born. The auntie at the registry was drunk. The name was supposed to be changed, however it never came that far. This way I remained „Sixth“.

- What name were you supposed to have? – Olga kept up her interrogation.

- I don’t remember. Vadim, I think, - I answered.

- Bullshit, - Vladimir fell from grace, - names, times, angels. Are you out of your mind?

- Nah, I’m okay, - I said offendedly, - just tired. Had no vacation in a hundred years and the stress on the job is considerable. And they sent me to you. I didn’t even clarify who exactly I was sent to. Hold on, gonna find out in a minute.

I took out my tablet from the bag and sent a message upstairs: „Who of them is going to die? XXX, Sixth“.

I waited for the answer. But no answer came. A minute passed, another… I felt like a fool.

- Alright, - Vladimir finally said, - we’ve had some fun but that’s enough now. I don’t understand why I let you enter the house. You have this very special look. But now you have to leave.

- Excuse me, - I rose from the table, - indeed, I worked my fingers to the bone. Showed up without a warning, without preparation. I’m sorry.

- No worries, - Olga replied, - for some reason I believe that you are an angel. Strange feeling.

I went out to the corridor and put on my shoes.

- Again, sorry, - I said, - I’ll leave now. But I’ll show up in a couple of days. Do you mind?

- No, we don‘t, - Vladimir said, - but make sure to present evidence of your angel descent.

I took three passports out of my pocket. A Russian, an Italian and a Czech one. Each one contained my photograph and my name. Instead of a last name it said „Angel“. The Czech passport said „Anděl“, the Italian said „Аngelo“.

Vladimir carefully examined all three documents. Twisted them in his hands and handed them back to me.

- I can show you the wings, - I suggested, - but I’ll have to undress for that.

- You don’t need to, - Vladimir stopped me, - you better leave now. Let’s talk later. Okay?

- Okay, - I replied.

And I left. In the very moment I went out of the entrance I instantly received a message: „Sorry, Sixth. The records don’t state who will die. The specialist who took care of this file is on vacation. He’ll be back in three days. Referent M“.

I even had to take a seat on the bench. The whole world was a mess. However, it was a surprise to me that it would also make its way to the very top of it.

I went home. Chatted with Referent M for a long time. In the end I had a quarrel with her and went to bed.

After that I was cruising around the house of my wards for two days. Olga worked part time, she came home right after lunch. She studied law by correspondence course and also had a part time internship in a law firm. Vladimir showed up at home at around six or seven p.m. He worked as a department head in a small IT company.

They moved together a little over two years ago. Both were divorced. Both had a difficult past. Vladimir had two children from his previous marriage. Olga didn’t have any.

They really loved each other, I could tell it from the way they looked at each other and touched one another. From the minute when they both left home early in the morning and parted ways at the corner kissing each other goodbye.

On the death day I was sitting on the bench and feeding pigeons with bread. There were sparrows among the pigeons who tried to get a piece of the bread.

- Aren’t you tired of observing us? – Olga asked.

I raised my head. She stood left of me and smiled. Beautiful and happy.

- This is my job, - I grumbled, - will you treat me with some tea?

- Sure you’re not a maniac? – Olga asked still smiling.

- Hell no, I’m not a maniac, - I replied, - I’m an angel. Name’s Sixth. My ID was already verified, remember?

Olga burst out laughing and took me to their home. Treated me with tea. Then she told me long stories about how Vladimir and her got to know each other and lived happily ever after.

It was getting dark. We were sitting in the kitchen and drinking probably the tenth cup of tea. While chatting Olga managed to cook dinner for Vladimir. She put the laundry in the washer. Then she checked her mails on the notebook which cozily lay on the kitchen table. She listened to my story about my relationship with Referent M. Sympathized with me.

It was warm and cozy. Olga was sitting across me and telling me about Vladimir. What a great specialist he was. How he took care of her. How they planned their beach vacation.

- Whose apartment is that? – I interrupted her.

- Ours, - Olga replied, - we've been living here for a year. Vladimir had some savings and his friend lended him some money. An indefinite-term loan. And my parents also supported us with some money for the interior.

- Cozy apartment, - I said, - but why three rooms? It’s only the two of you.

Olga blushed. I reached out and touched her left wrist.

- When have you learnt it? – I asked.

- This morning, - she whispered.

- Have you told him?

- Not yet. Wanted to tell him tonight.

- Don’t tell him now, - I asked her.

- Why? – she was surprised. – He wants to have children and will be very excited.

- Tell him tomorrow, - I whispered for some reason, - don’t do it today.

I became very queasy. In this place and in this time there weren’t two people but three. Him, her and a child who has just been conceived. And one of them had to die. Within the coming hour.

The front door slammed. Vladimir came back from work. Olga went into the hallway and greeted her husband. Told him something. Vladimir took a look into the kitchen, shook my hand.

- For some reason I expected you to come today, - he told me, - I’ll have a wash, change clothes and be back with you. Would you like to have dinner?

- Yes, please, not much though, - I replied, - I drank too much tea.

Vladimir burst out laughing and vanished into one of the rooms. Olga sat down across from me.

- Why shouldn’t I tell him? – she asked again.

- Because the first two weeks are the most dangerous ones for the child, - I started, - go see a gynecologist first, do some checks. Ultrasound, prenatal care, you name it. And only then tell the future daddy the good news.

- Sixth, you said that we would have trouble, - Olga said fixedly looking at me – what trouble? Whom are you supposed to protect and from what?

- I never said anything about trouble, - I said without looking at Olga, - basically, I haven’t been told anything. They just sent me here, that’s it. I have learned about the child just now, when I touched you.

- Why shouldn’t I tell him? – Olga repeated being visibly restless.

- I don’t know, - I exclaimed, - don’t know. But I’ll learn it soon. Be patient.

We were sitting there in silence. The whole apartment was wrapped in silence. Only a clock was ticking somewhere.

- Vladimir is not coming, - Olga broke the silence, - I’ll go see him.

She stood up and headed towards the door.

- Don‘t, - I asked her standing up already understanding what had happened, - don’t go there. Let me go first.

Vladimir was lying on the bed with his hands covering his face, as if he was ashamed of something. He only managed to take off the jacket which lay next to him.

A blood cloth in his thigh vein came off from the vessel wall. It came into the lung and sealed the pulmonary vein. Vladimir died within a minute while we were sitting in the kitchen.

Olga terribly screamed behind me. I intercepted her, seated her down on the floor, pressed her to my chest.

- Call the ambulance, now! – she screamed.

- He’s dead, - I replied, - nothing will help him. He’s dead.

I took out the phone and called the police. Gave them the address.

While I was calling Olga slipped out from my embrace and crawled towards the bed. She reached out to Vladimir, to his shoulder. She grasped his shirt and started to cry silently.

I approached and touched Olga.

- He died quickly. Almost didn’t feel any pain, - I told her.

- You knew it. You knew it all along, - she started to moan, then to scream: - Why didn’t you warn us?! We would have saved him. I would have saved him. It’s all your fault, you scumbag!

I intercepted her hands and tightly constrainted them. Then I pulled her away from the bed and sat her down on the bedside table.

- I didn’t know who of you it would be, - I said looking her straight in the eyes, in her abysmal eyes full of pain, - I didn’t know who it would be. I wasn’t told. It just happens. People die. Just like that. And I know how much it hurts.

Olga started to cry again powerlessly hanging down her shoulders. She was sitting on the bedside table and crying. Her husband was lying on the bed.

The medics and the police arrived almost simultaneously. Olga was taken to the kitchen. She was shaking. A moustached doctor looked at Vladimir, checked his vital signs. And then he said that they weren't needed here. I caught him in the hallway.

- Give the woman a sedative shot, - I asked, - 30 years old, no allergies. Pregnant, first month.

The doctor nodded, went to the kitchen. Talked about something with Olga, then he took out an ampulla and a syringe. Finally he gave her a shot.

The police officer wrote his report. Gave me his card and said whom to call tomorrow.

The hearse arrived. Two beefed up guys put Vladimir in a bag and took him to the exit. Olga twitched but then powerlessly sinked down on the chair. The sedative started to work.

I made Olga’s bed on the couch. Then I placed a drowsy Olga on it and turned off the lights.

I was sitting there for the whole night and reading a book written by Zakhar Prilepin. In the morning I dozed off and woke up to the sound of  a blubber.

Olga was lying on the couch and crying. I approached her.

- I’m very sorry, - I told her, - but now you’ll have to stand up, have a wash and fix yourself. We have lots of stuff to do.

- I don’t want to, - she calmly replied after ceasing to cry. – I don’t want anything. I want him to return. To live again.

- Olga, my dear, - I put my hand on her hair, - he’s dead. And you’re alive. And you’ll have to bury your husband. Because you’re his wife. And that’s why you’re going to stand up, brush your teeth, have a wash, brush your hair, get dressed and go to the kitchen. I have already cooked breakfast.

- It hurts, - Olga started to cry, - it hurts really bad. You’re an angel. Can’t you remediate this pain? Do you have a medicine for that?

- I do, - I said, - this medicine’s name is „time“. The pain will abate. It won’t go away completely but it will abate. I know that. And now stand up. We have a lot to do.

Olga stood up. Staggering she disappeared in the bathroom. In this time I cooked some oatmeal for her and put a piece of paper and a pen on the table.

Olga left the bathroom after 15 minutes. With panda eyes, however she was brushed, washed and even had some make-up. She ate, we drank tea.

A phone call sounded. Olga looked at me with crazy eyes.

- It’s his phone. It’s in his coat, in the lobby, - she whispered.

I went to the lobby, took the ringing phone out of the coat and answered the call.

- Could I talk to Vladimir please? – sounded from the speaker.

- No, you can‘t, - I replied, - he died.

A hush fell between us.

- You’re not kidding? – the person replied from the speaker. – He was at work yesterday. And we have a meeting now.

- Calling from work, - I told Olga right before answering to the caller, - call back in an hour, please. Best of all if you could call Olga.

- Yes, sure, - the speaker replied, - and who are you? What happened?

- I’m a friend of the family, - I answered, - pulmonary embolism is what happened.

A squeal sounded on the other end of the phone line followed by hanging up.

- You’ll have to answer the next calls, - I said passing Olga the phone.

- I don’t want to, - she started to cry again, - I don’t want to say that he died. Maybe you’ll answer the calls?

- You’ll do this, - I said, - this is your responsibility. I will help you with other things. Making tea or giving you a ride somewhere. But you’ll have to do the talking and taking care of business.

- I can‘t. It hurts to understand that he’s no more and will never be, - Olga silently said, - maybe in the afterlife? Maybe we’ll meet again?

Full of hope she looked at me.

- No, - I replied, - you will never meet again. He’s dead. He’s no more and will never be. That’s it. And there is no afterlife. It’s nothing but a bedtime story.

- But what do I have to do then? – Olga asked. – I love him. I was living exclusively for him. What do I have to do now?

- Live on, - I answered, - just live on. Remember him. And raise his child.

- Oh, I even forgot about the pregnancy, - Olga said putting her hand on her belly and started to cry again.

- You shouldn't forget, - I recommended, - and remember, you’re not alone anymore. There are two of you now.

I moved up the piece of paper to Olga. Together we made up a list of everyone we had to call and tell about this tragedy. Vladimir didn’t have any parents. The list contained a brother, an aunt, his ex-wife, comrades-in-arms, friends, Olga’s parents.

After that Olga called everyone from this list and told them what happened. Sometimes she cried. Sometimes she just informed the callee in an unemotional way about his passing away, listened to the condolences and thanked the callee. Towards the end of the list she became more or less calm.

Vladimir’s co-workers called. They said that they’ll support Olga.

After this Olga and me started to look for funeral services on the internet. Found one, called it, arranged a meeting.

We had lunch in a cafe not far from home. Then we went to Olga’s office. At work she took an indefinite leave.

In the evening her friends came. I went home to change clothes. Then I was sitting with everyone until shortly after midnight.

The next morning we went to the police for a written statement. Then we went to the registry. And then to... yadda, yadda, yadda.

Many people offered their services. But I remained standfest. She had to do everything on her own. I tried to load Olga with different small responsibilities so that she would not stay alone with her grief even for a minute. Purchasing flowers, arranging the commemoration, choosing a coffin – she had to do everything herself. She was cruising around town preparing for one last rendezvous with her beloved husband. And she had no time to give in to her grief. Except for the night. I could hear her crying. And then she hushed. And I was sitting there and reading, night after night. Insomnia is an industrial disease of angels.

The funeral passed well. Olga kept a stiff upper lip. After the funeral it was time for the commemoration. It was in a small restaurant, around 20 people were invited.

Vladimir’s friend, who lended him money for the apartment, approached Olga. He squinted at me.

- As for the money, - he told Olga, - which I gave Vladimir for the apartment. Anyways, don’t worry about it. It’s not a very large sum for me. You can repay it when you can. In 10 years, in 20, I don’t care.

- Thank you, - Olga said.

- You’re welcome, - he replied and added: - If you need anything, let me know.

And he stepped aside.

A couple of more people approached. They started to talk. First about the departed. Then about this and that.

The attendees slowly started to leave the commemoration, at midnight nobody was there anymore. We also left. We took a cab home. There we parted ways. I went to the kitchen, Olga went to the couch.

In the morning she had breakfast. She sat down across from me.

- And what should I do now? – she asked.

- Let’s go for a walk, - I replied, - you’re a soon-to-be-mother. Ideally you should go out for a walk for two hours every day.

- What else do I have to do? And why do you decide what I should do? – Olga asked.

- Because I’m your guardian angel, - I replied, - because I’m specialized and trained for situations like these. And because I know better what you should do and what rather not.

- And if I don’t want to? – Olga asked again.

- You will, - I replied, - you’re a young woman, your life has only just begun. You’re alive and well, you’re expecting.

- But what about Vladimir?

- Vladimir’s dead, - I replied, - but that doesn't mean that you have to forget him. No – remember him. Remember the joy and happiness you gave to one another. But you’ll have to live without him. Because he is no more and will never be.

- I can’t go on without him.

- You’ll manage. Everyone does. You’re not unique. Thousands of people lose their loved ones and find the strength within themselves to carry on. And so will you. Any questions?

- No questions, - Olga replied.

- Then let’s go for a walk, - I said, - afterwards we’ll sort out Vladimir’s belongings, throw away all the junk. Stuff which is in a more or less acceptable condition we’ll wash and dispense. We’ll leave only the photographs. And a couple of things which are of an exceptional value.

- Alright – Olga said, - am I allowed to cry?

- You really should cry, - I replied, - do it. The pain is washed away by tears.

And Olga started to cry.

And then we took a walk in the park. Fed the ducks.

After lunch we sorted out Vladimir’s stuff. Olga cried.

In the evening Olga’s friends came. We sat together, talked, remembered.

A couple of days passed like this.

In the evenings somebody visited Olga, come hell or high water. Friends, relatives, comrades-in-arms. During the day I took her out for a walk, gave her different tasks, talked to her. Tried to distract her.

In nine days around 15 people came. Sat with her in the apartment, had some drinks. Then everyone went home. On the next day nobody came anymore. People have their own families, their own business, their own lifes to take care of.

I had to spend almost all those days with Olga. During the day we were out for a walk, drove somewhere, did something. In the evening we talked.

I took her to the cinema, to concerts. Supplied her with books. Told her true stories. Tried to do everything I can so that she doesn’t have to stay alone in her misery.

After ten days Olga was the first to say that she needs to return to work and continue her studies. I supported her decision.

It got easier.

Until lunch she worked in the advisory. After lunch we took a walk. Like an exemplary family we took care of domestic cares or went to the cinema in the evenings. Or watched TV series.

Then Olga put herself to sleep on the couch and I went to the kitchen with a book in my hands.

After a couple of months Olga came to me in the kitchen one night. She sat at the table across from me.

- You never sleep, do you? – she asked.

- I do but rarely, - I replied, - why have you gotten up?

- I can’t sleep at night either, - Olga replied, - and I still can’t enter the bedroom calmly. I have the impression that he is still lying there.

- Maybe you should change the apartment? – I asked.

- And how am I going to pay it? – Olga was surprised. – All the income I have is my salary. Plus some savings which would be gone after three to four months in a rented apartment.

- Didn’t say about renting one, - I exclaimed thoughtfully, - I said about changing it. I know a guy who owes me, I saved his life a while ago. He has a good three room apartment. On the wrong end of the city though. On the other hand it would be closer for you to get to your advisory.

- And what about this apartment? – Olga asked dazedly.

- You can rent it to someone else, - I replied, - and the money made from that you can start to save for diapers, romper suits and what else kids need.

- I won’t live with some other man, - Olga stated firmly, - you’re out of your mind.

- You will, - I told her as firmly, - I’m not going to look after you for your entire life. And this one’s a good guy. He’s allergic to women. So he won’t be harassing you. As a payment for living in his apartment you’ll make sure his den is cozy. Cook something to eat, wash his clothes. I was at his home a couple of months ago. It’s not a mess but quite dull nevertheless. Name’s Stepan. He’s a good man, reliable. Used to do boxing. And he also has a child from his first marriage.

- Don’t know, it’s all of a sudden, - Olga gabbled.

- You need to change your environment, - I said bluntly, - I’ve been thinking about this for a long time. We’ll kill three birds with one stone. We’ll change your environment and save money for your soon-to-be-born-child.

- And what’s the third bird? – Olga asked.

- I’ll go on vacation, - I smiled, - after all, angels also need vacation every now and again.

Olga sat for some time, drank tea with me. Asked me about Stepan, then she went to sleep.

In the morning I took her to work. Then I took out the phone and called my acquaintance.

- Hi there, - he cheerfully answered the call, - long time no see. How are you?

- I’m calling you on business, - I started it off, - serious business. You do have a free room in your apartment, don’t you?

- I do, - Stepan replied, - Katerina’s room. It’s empty. Why are you asking?

- There’s a dame, pregnant. She shall be given shelter, - I said.

- What the hell for? – Stepan was shell shocked on the other end of the line. – Why on earth would I need a wench in my house? I’m actually doing great on my own.

- Stepan, - I began smoothly, - do you actually recall that you owe me? That I hammered out some really nasty thoughts out of your head three years ago? And that you promised to help me in case I need it?

- I do, - Stepan grumbled, - but I didn’t think that this help would have the shape of a pregnant woman.

- She’s a decent woman, - I continued as smoothly, - will clean up your apartment. Will cook lunch and dinner. And won’t claim anything in return.

- I actually bring some bimbos to my place once in a while, - Stepan tried his last excuse, - and with a lodger? Where will I bring them if I feel the urge?

- You’ll find a way and a place, - I replied, - you might rent a hotel room for an hour or so. It’s even simpler this way.

- Alright, - Stepan suddenly agreed, - I’ll let her to my place. For a couple of months, not more than that. So who’s that dame? And why is she pregnant and without a husband?

- Her husband died. Not long ago, - I said, - she’s having a hard time. I’m looking after her. But I feel that she’s already sick of me. Her environment must be changed.

- Alright, - Stepan repeated, - she may live. But I only come home to sleep. Lots of work on my plate these days. We started a new project. Hired some new guys for it. Now it’s on me to gang up the team and to work my finger to the bone.

I made an arrangement with Stepan for the weekend, in other words for the day after tomorrow.

I informed Olga about her relocation while having a walk in the park.

She was stunned. Started to dig in her heels. Like „oh, it’s way too fast“. But I remained standfest.

The entire next day we were packing her stuff. Then we were done. Not everything fit in the car.

We arrived at Stepan‘s.

The host gave us a warm welcome. He helped to carry over the whole stuff in the apartment.

- I see that you got your act together real well, - Stepan remarked pulling two bags with Olga’s belongings simultaneously.

- It’s not everything, - I let slip while looking aside.

Stepan grunted but didn’t say anything. Meanwhile I went for a second go for the remaining stuff.

I returned after two hours. Stepan and Olga were drinking tea in the kitchen and talking.

We carried the stuff into Olga’s room. I headed to the exit.

- Sixth, don’t you want to tell us something? – I heard from behind me.

- I have to write my report, - I yelled while tipping out of the apartment, -I’ll return tomorrow by noon. Don’t get bored.

And I rushed down the stairs. But nobody chased me and nobody tried to kick my ass. That was a good sign.

In the morning I went to the nearest real estate agency and we agreed that they would look for renters for Olga’s apartment.

Then I went to Olga’s office. I drove her to Stepan’s apartment and had to hear a lot of things about myself, none of which were too flattering. I persuaded her to stay there at least for a week.

Olga and me went out for a walk. There was no park nearby, however we had a quay.

After our walk we went to Stepan’s office. There I also had to listen to even more unflattering things about myself. Especially about my guile.

But Stepan was way calmer than Olga.

- She can stay, - he said, - a couple of months I can endure. If I can help her this way, then why not.

That was what we agreed upon.

The next two days I was showing Olga’s apartment to potential renters. They thought that they were choosing an apartment. Actually I was choosing them.

And I chose someone. It was a young couple. That was exactly what I told them: „You suit us well“.

The folks laughed and agreed.

The contract was signed, I received the deposit and handed them the keys.

In the evening I went to Stepan and Olga. I handed over the contract and the deposit.

Olga started to read the contract and groaned.

- You rented the apartment for a year, - she confusedly said, - with an option to renew.

- For how long did you think I’d rent it? For a week?, - I exclaimed.

- I knew it, - Stepan burst out laughing, - the infamous Sixth as we know him. Has everything his own way ignoring the opinion of the others.

- That’s what people love me for, - I put it off with a jest, - how about you guys? Did you make friends with each other?

- We did, - Stepan answered, - all is fine. But nevertheless I’ll call you on this.

- Me, too, - Olga exclaimed.

- You’re so evil, both of you, - I said, - I work my ass off for you. And nobody savors it. You know what, I’ll go.

And I went. First to the car. Then I drove home. Where I took out the travel case which I had dropped a couple of months ago on the auxiliary.

I called a cab and went to the airport.

In the car I received a message from Referent M: „I hereby confirm a compatibility of Olga and Stepan of 79 percent, as you requested. Let me know once you are done. There’s a new task waiting for you“.

I didn’t reply anything. Arrived at the airport, left the car. Checked in for the flight to Athens. Passed the passport check.

Waiting for my flight I sat down at the bar. Ordered some tomato juice. After that I took my tablet out of the bag without any hurry.

And I sent a message upstairs: „I’m on vacation. Bugger off. XXX, Sixth“.