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  • Аннотация:
    Журналист стоял не шелохнувшись. Он молчал, ожидая, когда она заговорит. Ей это начинало нравиться. Юлия любила мужчин, уважающих себя. Знала, что это бывает не часто. Взяла пачку Мальборо. Он быстро приблизился и щелкнул зажигалкой. В ответ она подхватила со стола чек, поднесла к его зажигалке и от него прикурила. Огонь начал свою работу. Он жадно лизал бумагу, пока она не почернела и не превратилась в пепел. Три тысячи долларов исчезли. Журналист откровенно и тяжело вздохнул. Его лицо загорелось румянцем. Это сделало его еще моложе, почти юношей.Юлия грустно опустила глаза. Он молчал. Его твердость и самообладание смешили. Она улыбнулась. Между ними было много схожего. "Этот парень, несомненно, читает все мои мысли, в которых я боюсь признаться себе самой. Но, почему он назвал меня Тэйлор, если я - Хукер? Это нелепое противоречие инстинктивно мелькнуло в ее голове. - Почему он хочет меня добить? Ведь он уже убил меня, назвав мое девичье имя! Я видела это. Он хотел этого убийства на своих глазах. Я видела его выражение лица..." - назойливо тиранил внутренний голос.

  Yuri Matthew Ryuntyu is the closest friend of Rudolf Nureyev: 1989-1993.
  
   He came to Australia from Russia in 1981. He settled with his family in Randwick (Wentworth St.), just a five minute walk from Centennial Park. He began to work at the University of NSW with Jonathan Stone, the Associate Professor in the School of Medicine, working as a research assistant for an electron microscopy unit. His three year old daughter, Polina settled at the university kindergarten and his wife took a position as a private music teacher on Rose Bay at the Church of England Girls School 'Kambala'.
   Living close to Centennial Park, Yuri's family enjoyed walking, bike riding and relaxing. He was a scientist with ten years experience with the Academy of Science in Russia, having moved to Australia to finish his PhD thesis. Life in Australia for Yuri and his family was a success, Yuri's focus being solely on his academic career with the university only.
  
   However, life had other plans for Yuri.
   So I ask Yuri: how did you manage to meet such people as Rudolf Nureyev, Freddie Mercury, Cecil Beaton, Margot Fonteyn and many other W-superstars?
  
   His answer: 'I met Patrick White on the 27 June 1981 clambering onto the 396 to go to the bank. I noticed in the bus a very cranky old man, with a pessimistic expression on his face. He sat in front of me, very close to the driver and he asked me, 'How do you do?' After my greeting, I responded with a smile and introduced my daughter Polina to him. My daughter immediately invited him to our house in Randwick for a cup of English tea and his noted with questioning: 'I didn't realize there were so many Russians around'. Later, when the bus arrived at the Bondi Junction, we left the bus together and accidentally arrived in the same place simultaneously. It was the Grace Brothers Shopping Centre where we stood queuing to buy fresh trout, the best in the city. So it was the second coincidence to bring our paths to cross. 'So', Patrick White asked me, 'Do you like fresh water fish or ocean?' In another coincidence, our third, we bought the same fresh water Rainbow trout in Grace Brothers for what Patrick comments: 'Boy, I have a feeling you are reading my mind'. After that, we came together to the closest bookshop on his persuasive invitation. Immediately as we entered the shop, many people recognized the Nobel Prize novelist and began greeting him warmly, requesting that he sign copies of his novels. I immediately understood that this was supposed to be the greatest day of my life in Australia. Without any comment, Patrick turned his back to the people and gave me his own book and signed it with a promising smile. 'So, my boy, you know who I am? It is difficult to hide such a huge and global secret'. It was written and signatures: 'He believed and practiced astrology all his life. 27.06.81'.
  
   When I came home, I noticed his home number on the back page of the book also. A fortnight later I rang Mr. Patrick White. In answer he welcomed me and with an invitation to meet him privately in the park. It was so ease meets him resting on a bench by the lake, just across from 20 Martin Road. It was his spacious domestic habits with many paintings, books and ballerinas' sculptures since May 1964. I remembered him with happy talk and smile in a good mood between dogs and cats around.
  
   So, in other words, everything happened fortunately on the 27 June 1981.
  
   It was: a bus; a fish; a happy day; Patrick Victor Martindale White and... my birthday. Everything happened on the same day. Since then, I can say that I have met the greatest Australian writer, the only Aussie-land winner of the Nobel Prize in literature. He reputedly told me: 'Unbelievable beauty of Alex Pushkin from Russia! He's the most wonderful writer and poet I recently discovered in my un-passions' age...' The bench became a meeting place for us where he asked me many things about the world and my background. He talked to me about his partner, Manoly Lascaris, his lovely dogs, Nellie and Eureka and we found in common, mutual sympathy for the Russian writers, Boris Pasternak, Alexander Pushkin and Leo Tolstoy. Unconsciously he started to teach me how to write. It was nothing to do with scientific research or with my work at UNSW. It was like a discovery of new horizons which became a new destiny for me. Later he gave me weekly lessons where we discussed writing in different styles and for different purposes. And so my literary pregnancy began. Two years later He gave me a Cecil Beaton's psycho-photograph of him with a face's expression like 'a stuffed royal sea-lion from Australian Antarctic'. At this photo it's very much perceptible for me a great writer who seen himself as part woman and part man, and both of them share feminine virtues if so still existed then at ones.
  
   Photo: Patrick Victor Martindale White, London, UK, 1968.
  
   I learn from him in 1981-86: '... Australia seems to be suffering from a sickness called SEMINAR... and (never been) forgetting all about being a writer, live to perfect his/her art... true writers emerge of their own impetus; to encourage those who haven't got much to contribute, you are prolonging false hopes and helping destroy the forests of the world. This must appear a churlish reply to your kind letter (from M.L.) with its offer of an honor and literary conviviality! But it's what I believe, and much as I enjoy conviviality, I suspect that more literature plops from the solitary bottle, than out of the convivial flagon' (P. White to Mary Lord, ASAL, 1979). These casual fresh-air's meetings ended on the 17 May 1986.
  
   When I came on the same day to our meeting place, I found Patrick crying and in a state of mental crisis. He answered my obsessive questions: 'To day, a big bastard, David Marr convinced me to give him the right to collect my private letters from across the globe and I am a dirty old, filthy man... I gave him such right today with a smile. But I would like to hide from him forty-nine letters; this is my own gift for you. Take it away with you and don't show them to anyone before I die'.
  
   So it happened, I kneel and kiss his hands in gratitude. I was deeply shaken by this trust from such a great man in the world.
  
   I met in 1984-89 a many fascinating inhabitants in White's company on 20 Martin Rd.: Margaret Fink, Barry Humphries, and Sidney Nolan, Lady Caset Maie and many Australian ballet and USA theatre stars... They affably were chattering about: Sir. Cecil Beaton's photography and choreography (Patrick known Cecil since 1965 via Viscount Mamblas 'Pepe' and Roy de Maistre), about Freddie Mercury's music and Freddie's ballet love for Rudolf Nureyev and Lady Margot Fonteyn as well as about Russian grate writers Boris Pasternak, Leo Tolstoy and two Alexanders as Pushkin and as Solzhenitsyn, about Nureyev's ballet solo visit from Paris to Ufa in Russia (November 1987). It was a fascinating time for me to situate in a company of such top-intellectuals in Sydney.
  
   Photo: Cecil Beaton's and Rudolf Nureyev together, London, UK, 1964.
  
   However, Patrick told around to remember that is not much intellectual freedom in Australia for writers and artists and broadly underlined: 'In all directions stretched the Great Australian Emptiness, in which the mind is the least of professions, in which the rich man is the important man, in which the schoolmaster and the journalist rule what intellectual roost there is, in which beautiful youths and girls stare at life through blind blue eyed, in which human teeth fall like autumn leaves, the buttocks of cars grow hourly glassier, food means steak and cake, muscles prevail, and the march of material ugliness does not raise a quiver from the average nerves. It was the exaltation of the 'average' that made me panic most, and in this frame of mind, in spite of myself, I began to conceive another novel...'
  
   So, that was his White instinct for cultural living in Australia in 1981-90.
  
   Patrick often added: 'I think it is impossible to explain faith. It is like truing to explain air, which one can't do by dividing it into its components parts and labeling them scientifically. It must be breathed to be understood. But breathing is something that has been going on all the time, and is almost imperceptible. I don't know when I began to have faith, but it is only a short time since I admitted it'.
  
   He drank heavily and his temper was always bad when he was involved in writing a next book. It was not secrets between his friends that Patrick can drag lover's suitcases and telling his Lascaris to pack and be off with 'Go-go-go! Go now' at 3-4 am. But at 11 am He begged Lascaris don't go and stay at home together! Lascaris understood him correctly: 'He has a genius. If he needs to rage, I am there, and he knows I will forgive him. It is very painful, but I do forgive him'. Patrick was affable but tense almost.
  
   Whether this is OK or BAD I can not tell. Sex is not what dogma or drama was here. Not the hazards of existing passion are yet in his book's characters too much.
  
   One of my visits to see him at home was a most successful in 1986, because of Patrick told me about Nureyev's aspiration to meet me and talk about my personal participation in his own projects about The Russian Cultural Heritage Preservation. So it was and it's happened in N.Y., where Rudolf introduced me to Andy Warhol (1986). We contacted via telephone and I visited twice Rudolf in Paris (1987) and twice in London (1988).
  
   I remember that Andy enthusiastically and good-willingly donated 250 000$ and Patrick altruistically added extra 120 000$ for the sake of realization of the Rudolf's dream project for glorifying the Russian Cultural Achievements for the Western World. They were endlessly talk about needs for the creation of specific library of books and oral history radio-tapes about artists, playwrights, poets, writers, painters, movie stars in Russia.
  
   It was perceptible for such spiritual and an aristocratic art person predicts the Grate Crash of Red Culture in USSR. So, Patrick, Andy and Freddie helps for Rudolf to collects some amount of money for his grand-fantasy... I never yet suspected any kind of my possible personal involvement in the process of realization at the presence of such preparations. I was an unfamiliar totaled for any category of thinking in such direction from my personal background and life experience at the moment.
  
   Most faithful and mysterious personality I met there was 17 years' old Californian prostitute 'Kennon' in Sydney (with Patrick) and Paris (with Rudolf, Versace and Reinike).
  
   Andrew Phillip Cunanan is later became as a gay-millionaire serial killer: Versace, Reinike, Madson and Miglin in USA . Kennon (27) shot himself on July 23, 1997.
  
   I wrote in my book 'Rudolf Nureyev: With-OUT Make-UP': '... Patrick White was who gave me letters for the book about Rudolf Nureyev. I want to unite tales from these letters of various years with today's 'live speech'. I am grateful to fate that Patrick introduced us to each other in 1984. We would not have met without him'. David Marr completed his manuscript 'The White's Biography' on July 17, 1990.
  
   The enlighten accurate secrets about a madness love between Paddy and George Orwell (author '1984'), as a two intelligence service officers of Her Majesty Military Force almost during the War has been lost and laid still undercover of our noiseless conspiracy between Patrick and me.
  
   Paddy tried saves his beloved Manoly from unbeatable jealousies' hurts that - before their entire unifications forever as a military gay's family - 'was a hard sacrificial separation between (him) the Paddy's 'Air Intelligence' frustrations at his isolation from George's 'Intelligence Corps H.Q.' love story as a grand passion between 1941-42 ... Whether this is good or bad I can't tell at all. I met Manoly in July 1941 and everything became is over for G. Or.' (White's 49 letters).
  
   Patrick about Centennial Park and Randwick says: 'C.P. was an oasis in this ugly world... At dawn it was strung with skeins of mist and, as light faded in the evening, the lakes turned to silver and the pines into acres of dark until all that was visible from Martin Road was the 'cut-out of convents' along the Randwick skyline' (cited from D.M.: 'P.W: A life').
  
   Patrick died on September 30, 1990. I learned of this a day later after calling Mr. Manoly Lascaris. When in greeting I asked him, 'How are you?' he answered: 'I am crying. My Paddy passed away at 5:00 a.m. and before sunrise yesterday. In astrology this is very bad for Gemini, to die in darkness. Paddy was also very upset about such darkness... lack of sunshine around which he loved endlessly throughout his love for life'.
  
   I smashed my telephone on the wall and collapsed on the bed.
  
  I spoke with no one for a week.
  
  Later I sent my short story to the literary magazine WRITING: 'The Requiem for Patrick White'.
  
  It was my first publication on April 1991 in Australia: 'So now I can bloody write whatever I want!'
  
  I shout after him as I kneel. He suddenly stopped and came back slowly. He uttered no words. He kissed and crossed my forehead in a farewell blessing. I stood with the pack of precious letters, roughly wrapped in an old embroidered handkerchief. He left to prepare to go and lie in the hospital tomorrow or the day after.He was never sorry for himself, now so tired of life.
  
   EVERYTHING WAS TRIED,
   EVERYTHING WAS WRITTEN,
   HE ACHIEVED ALL HIS DREAMS,
   I SILENTLY PRAYED FOR HIM, MR. WHITE.
  
  I wanted his return, but his guardian angel took him to God, and gave him the gift of eternity in Heaven. What else can I remember? He stands over me as I'm on my knees. I opened my eyes and looked up at him up and down, then shut them instantly. Between us, on his chest was an image of an oval shaped cross.The Spaniards knew who to present the spiritual wooden talisman. He was no more a sinner after that.Those special nuns absorbed his sins.They started to confess for his sake in Holy caves in Spain. The nuns didn't know that his hidden DEATH slept close by.Immediately, IT awoke to fill Him with Immortality...'
  
   Simon Robertson wrote: 'Christmas 1990 Rudolf's former lover came to stay with him at St Barts, but Rudolf ... in Paris with an Old Admirer'. It was true. I was invited to stay in Paris at Christmas 1990 with Rudolf Nureyev too. I was convinced to take cares about the International Global Projects by Rudolf. I welcome him to my place in Australia and he promised will come as soon as possible for business consideration between us.
  
  On October 3, 1991, Simon Robertson left Rudolf Nureyev in Paris and came back home to Australia and settled his happy family life on Bondi in Sydney.
  
   Photo: Yuri Matthew Ryuntyu, Armidale, NSW, Australia.1991.
  
   On November 23, 1991 Rudolf visited me in Armidale (NSW) in Australia and I become granted by his aspiration for my going to St.-Petersburg (Russia) for uncertain number of years. It was only and only one and a most important purpose for us is a practical realization of the Rudolf Nureyev Dream about The Russian Cultural Heritage Preservation. He promised to set financial support for my life and my work from the beginning to the end of our collaborations: 1991-2001.
  
   On November 24, 1991 his lover Freddie Mercury died and Rudolf Nureyev left Australia for London.
  
   Since December 1991 I started 'The Rudolf Nureyev Intellectual Heritage: Russia -XX Century' and arrived in St.-Petersburg, Russia.
  
   In 1992 Rudolf Nureyev met me in St.-Petersburg, organized everything around, said Good-bye forever and left me for my own way of doing.
  
   On January 6, 1993 he died in Paris. I have started to write 35 books for his 'The World Rudolf Nureyev Intellectual Heritage: Russia- XX Century' since 1991.
  
   It took 13 years. I have ended 'The Heritage' in 2003.
  
   Now it is in 200 states and in Internet. Thanks God, I completed for Rudolf what I promised to completed once upon a time. For all of us the happy ending story at once.
  
   Well, I can say again: 'He believed and practiced astrology all his life'. He wasn't confident in my possible participation for international projects until he found co-accidental truth about that my son Matthew was born on March 17. He accepts such fact as the cosmic destiny for go-ahead link between us.
  
   'It seems for me like the same spiritual story sound between me and Patrick destiny ones! St Patrick's Day is my own birthday on March 17 between four of us. I'm talking and meaning ... Yuri, Matthew, Patrick and myself' - notified Rudolf at last. I spent 15 years for realization of his dreams. Now, I started to talk about it and ready to represent my 2 books 'Rudolf Nureyev: With-OUT Make-UP' and 'Rock-Idol and Superstar: Freddie Mercury & Rudolf Nureyev' about my friends Rudolf Nureyev, Freddie Mercury and Patrick White for publishers in West.
  
  These 2 of most secretive books in the world published in Russian only: 1995-2005. SBN 5-7020-0981-9 'Rudolf Nureyev: With-OUT Make-UP': Sold: 360 000 copies in Russia: 1995-2005. ISBN 9-9650 -1816-2 'Rock-Idol and Superstar: Freddie Mercury & Rudolf Nureyev'. Sold: 110 000 copies in Russia: 2001-2005.
  
   It was total forbidden for publications in West by me, because it arise possibilities for disturbing situation around for my 3 children in Australia, as well as their present immaturity in childhood and high possibility for their personal misinterpretation of matter from media for hearing any kind in sequence about contents release from the private life of international stars.
  
   Now, my children are 21, 23 and 30 years old. These two books un-capable divide or separate us anymore.
  
   These 2 books about the recipe for persons who need to know - how Survive if you're neighboring and beloved ones dying from AIDS and your need strength 'don't dyeing together', but expand yourself in enormous love and stay breathing for continuation of living matter around for the sake of life for life.
  
   These are written by survivor for celebrating The Life not The Death. Referees: (1) Media UK: Daily Express, June 21, 1995 about Australian writer Yuri M. Ryuntyu and his book "Rudy Nureyev: Without Make-up" (St.-Petersburg, Russia) News: London/Daily Express Wednesday June 21, 1995 (10 200 000 copies) article "Mercury was Gay Lover of Nureyev," page 7. Exclusive by Will Stewart (London) and Igor Monichev (Moscow). Text: PEOPLE Daily ... The book "Rudy Nureyev: Without Make-up" will go on sale in St.-Petersburg today. In "Rudy Nureyev: Without Makeup", Yuri Matthew Ryuntyu (Australia), the author writes that the two met whenever they could spent hours on the telephone talking..." While the pair appeared publicly together, for example at an open-air music festival in Barcelona in 1988, they successfully drew a veil over their relationship ..." www.pathfinder.com (2) Freddie Mercury: The Definitive Biography" by Jones, Lesley-Ann (USA). ISBN 0-3406-7208-0
  
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