‘What is that?’ she asked Alina, one of the waitresses.
Alina replied through a mouthful of soup, ‘Who cares? Eat and don’t ask stupid questions.’
‘Wouldn’t want to eat a rat or a mouse. I heard they could poison you.’
‘I think you’re safe. There aren’t any mice left. They’ve all been eaten already.’
‘It’s an old horse,’ said the cook, a plump woman with milky-white skin and pale red hair, which she wore in a braid that reached all the way down her waist.
‘Can I have some more, please?’ asked Natasha, passing her plate.
As soon as the cafeteria closed, Mark walked in, shivering, shaking the snow off his boots. He took his hat off and said, ‘Minus twenty-seven outside.’
Natasha unbuttoned his coat and pressed her body close to his. She buried her face in his chest and inhaled. He smelt of snow. ‘It’s unbelievably cold. I’ve never known it to be this cold in Kiev,’ she said.
‘I’m glad I have Stanislav’s clothes. Our winter uniforms never showed up.’
‘Grandfather believes nature itself is fighting the Germans. Just like in 1812 when Napoleon invaded Russia. It was a freezing winter then, too.’
‘As always, your grandfather is right. Now that winter is here, the Germans are struggling. Many are in hospital with frostbite.’
‘I saw something funny this morning. A dozen soldiers rubbing their faces with snow, while their commander shouted something in German. Can you believe it? They think they can warm themselves up by doing that.’ Natasha chuckled but Mark wasn’t laughing. He wasn’t even smiling. ‘What’s wrong?’ she asked, instantly worried.
‘Listen, Natasha. Things here are only getting worse. This morning I watched as a hundred Soviet sailors were being marched to Babi Yar.’
The mere mention of Babi Yar was enough to make her tremble. Too many ghosts were conjured by these two words, too many horrific memories. She shook her head to stave off the ghosts.
Mark continued, ‘They walked right past me. Singing and joking while their hands were tied behind their backs with barbed wire.’
Natasha looked away from him and out of the window at the fresh snow. She knew what he wanted her to say.
Afterwards, when he walked her home, she turned around and saw him wave. His face so handsome in the moonlight – his smile so bright, his eyes so kind – her heart felt a little warmer, a little less afraid. The timing was right. She had to talk to her mother.
*
As soon as Natasha let herself in, she knew that the timing wasn’t right. While she was taking her boots off, brushing the mud and snow off them, German voices reached her from the living room. When she walked in, she saw three tall officers looming over Mother, talking impatiently. Mother’s head shook, her voice trembled. ‘What is it? What do you want?’
‘They’re looking for warm clothes, Mama,’ said Lisa.
‘Well done, you metal thief. You speak German now?’ said Nikolai. Lisa recoiled away from him, tears in her eyes.
‘Warm clothes? What warm clothes? We have nothing.’ Mother turned to the Germans. ‘Nothing! You have to go.’ She pointed at the door, and her gesture was firm, even though her hand shook.
Natasha managed to get past the Germans and pull her mother back. ‘Mama, what are you doing? Let them take whatever they want. It’s not worth it.’
Pushing Lisa out of the way, the officers proceeded to search the house. Ignoring Grandfather and Nikolai, they threw everything off the shelves, unmade their beds and even rolled up the carpets. Finally, laden with the Smirnovs’ winter coats and Mikhail’s sled, the Nazis departed.
Mother cried as she cleared up the mess. ‘They already took everything. What more do they want? When is enough going to be enough for these people?’
‘I wouldn’t call them people,’ muttered Nikolai.
‘What do you expect? They’re cold. It’s a harsh winter this year,’ said Natasha.
‘They’re cold? What about our prisoners?’ cried Mother. ‘They keep them naked in minus twenty. And what about us? What are we going to wear?’
The Germans’ visit left everyone shaken and confused. Only Grandfather, who never despaired, didn’t lose his good humour. ‘The Nazis are beginning to beg,’ he said. ‘First the metal, now the clothes. That’s good to see. We might still win this war.’
*
It wasn’t until the next morning that Natasha got a chance to speak to her mother alone. They were in the kitchen, peeling potatoes. They would have six potatoes for breakfast and six for lunch. Less than one potato each. ‘Mama, we have no cookware left. How are we going to cook these?’ asked Natasha. If she was completely honest, she didn’t care about cooking the potatoes at all. She was so hungry, she would gladly devour them raw.
The knife moved swiftly in her mother’s hand as she replied, ‘Don’t worry. Anna Andreevna, our chemistry teacher, lent me a pan. She was glad to help.’ Mother sighed and put the knife down. ‘You know, I didn’t even recognise her this morning. She looks ten years older than the last time I saw her.’
‘What happened to her?’
‘Her daughter was killed.’ She raised her eyes as if in prayer. ‘I don’t care what happens to me anymore. I’m beyond caring. All I care about is you. How do I keep all of you safe?’
Every night Natasha had heard her mother toss and turn. Grieving over the past, struggling to come to terms with the present, worrying about the future. Natasha hesitated. How could she not say anything now?
Before she had a chance, however, they heard Nikolai’s agitated voice that was shortly followed by the agitated Nikolai himself. ‘Mama, Natasha, look,’ he said, waving a newspaper about.
‘Wait, stop fidgeting. You’re making me dizzy,’ said Mother, taking the paper from Nikolai and spreading it on the table. Curious, Natasha glanced over her mother’s shoulder. Across two pages, in three languages – German, Ukrainian and Russian – the paper invited the Soviets to travel to Germany for well-paid work, promising good working conditions, plenty of food and comfortable lodgings.
It didn’t take long. Just like Mark had predicted.
As Nikolai skipped back to the living room with his newspaper, Mother said, ‘Yesterday they grabbed people on the streets and put them on the train to Germany. Against their will.’ She paused, picked up a cup, glanced at it absentmindedly, placed it back. ‘I wish I could take you away from Kiev. Somewhere safe.’
Natasha took a deep breath. ‘Nowhere in the Soviet Union is safe,’ she said, high-pitched and edgy.
Mother watched Natasha in silence as if waiting for something. Then she blinked, looked away and said, ‘Can your young man help?’
Natasha dropped the potato she was holding and watched it roll under the table. Numbly she stared at her mother, who continued, ‘I know he’s not free to come and go as he pleases but he’s not watched like we are watched. Is there anything he could do?’
Natasha coughed nervously. ‘How do you know about him?’
‘Come on, I’m your mother and I’m not blind. He should be able to protect you…’
‘Mama, wait. How did you know?’
‘Nikolai saw you outside our building on Tarasovskaya, remember?’
Natasha remembered. She was going to have a serious conversation with her brother. But there was no disapproval on Mother’s kind face as she watched her daughter with a smile. Natasha’s anger vanished. How could her little brother keep a secret of such magnitude from their parents when she herself had struggled to do it? ‘Did Papa know?’ she asked.
‘Of course.’
‘Why didn’t he say anything?’
‘He was going to. He was quite furious. I had to be very firm with him.’
‘Why did you stop him?’ Natasha shivered and looked around, as if expecting her furious father to leap at her from behind the kitchen door.
‘Because I’ve never seen your eyes sparkle like that before. You were glowing from the inside.
I didn’t want you to feel like you were doing something wrong before you had a chance to enjoy this feeling.’ She took Natasha’s hand. ‘Meeting your father is one of the most precious memories of my life. I didn’t want anything to ruin the memory of your first love.’
‘He’s wonderful, Mama. Just wait till you meet him. You’ll love him, I know you will.’
‘Couldn’t he take you some place safe? Maybe a village somewhere?’
‘Ukrainian villages are not safe anymore, either. You know that. Most of them have been burnt.’ It was now or never. Before her courage vanished completely, Natasha took a deep breath, clasped her hands tight behind her back and muttered, ‘Mark’s garrison is being recalled back to Hungary.’
‘He’s leaving?’
‘Well, no. He refuses to go without me.’
Mother frowned. Almost inaudibly she said, ‘You’re lucky. He cares about you very much.’
‘Mama, he wants me to go with him. He thinks it’s too dangerous in Kiev.’
‘He’s right. It is too dangerous in Kiev.’
‘He won’t go back without me.’ Natasha waited for Mother to say something, anything. But Mother remained quiet. ‘Mama, tell me, what should I do?’
Mother took off her glasses, raising her unprotected eyes to her daughter. ‘Is that what you want? To go with Mark?’
‘I want to be with him but I don’t want to leave all of you behind.’
Mother nodded sadly. ‘But maybe the distance is a good thing. The further you are from Kiev, the better. The further you are from the Soviet Union, the better.’ Thoughtfully she replaced the glasses on her face. ‘I think you should go.’
‘Go to Hungary?’
‘Hungary is not occupied. You’ll have food, you’ll have a better life.’ When she said it, she didn’t look at Natasha.
‘You think I should go and leave all of you here?’ Natasha thought of the crowded railway station last June, her mother’s tears and her brother’s reluctance as he boarded the train headed for the front.
‘We’ll be fine. I’ll feel much better knowing you’re okay. Once the war is over, you’ll come back.’
‘Mama, why are you crying?’
‘I’m not crying, child. The most important thing is your safety right now. Will the road be dangerous?’
‘We live in an occupied city, Mama. Getting out of bed in the morning is dangerous.’
‘I wish we could all go with you. I worry about Nikolai. He’s getting too involved in Yuri’s business. Five partisans were hanged on Kreshchatyk this morning.’
They clung to each other in silence. The mother, hiding her true feelings because she would never put herself first. And the daughter, searching for courage in her mother’s arms. Finally, Mother said, ‘Don’t feel bad. People move away, build their own lives far from their families. Your father moved to Kiev from a Siberian village. And my parents came here from the Urals when they were younger, leaving their parents behind.’
Natasha was glad she had confided in her mother. Even though she was still afraid, she wasn’t as afraid as before.
When she looked up, she saw her brother standing in the doorway. She knew only too well the expression on Nikolai’s face. It was the same expression he’d had when he was accosted by a school bully at seven. And when a dog had chased him at eight. And when he’d fallen off a tree at nine. Now, as he watched Natasha with tears in his eyes, he suddenly looked like a child again. And Natasha did what she had done all those other times— she put her arms around her younger brother to reassure him, to give him comfort, to take the pain away. But when Nikolai spoke, he didn’t sound like a child at all. ‘Mama is right. You’ll be safer away from Kiev. We’ll miss you so much, but we’ll feel better knowing we don’t have to worry about you anymore.’
‘Mark will look after me. He always does. He saved me, you know. It was him who shot the officer in the park. If it wasn’t for him—’ She paused, unsure how to continue. If it wasn’t for him, she wouldn’t be here now. But Alexei would. ‘He didn’t know about the reprisals until afterwards,’ she added in a tiny voice. ‘He would never have let those innocent people be killed if he knew.’
‘Of course he wouldn’t have, darling,’ said Mother. ‘I can’t wait to meet him, so I can thank him for saving your life.’
‘I can’t wait to meet him, so I can warn him to treat you well, or he’ll have me to deal with,’ said Nikolai.
Natasha held him close. I only have two more days of hugging my brother, she thought, and suddenly felt like someone had punctured her heart with a needle, letting all the air out. It felt hollow, even though it was full to the brim with love.
Outside, floorboards creaked. A sudden thought chilled Natasha. ‘Where is Lisa, Nikolai?’
‘I don’t know. She was right behind me.’
But when Natasha went looking for her sister a few minutes later, Lisa was nowhere to be found.
*
When Natasha was younger, she had imagined going to university, meeting a young man, getting married and having a baby here in Kiev, close to her family. She had imagined becoming a teacher like her mother or even a professor like her grandfather. Then the war had intervened, and that imaginary life faded away like a dream that belonged to someone else. What would the future bring her, away from everyone she loved, away from Kiev?
As she listened to the tick-tock of the clock, Natasha wondered how many days she had spent thus, waiting out the war, counting the seconds and hoping for the best. But now everything was about to change. She was ready.
As soon as Mark walked through the door in the evening and enveloped her in a hug, she told him about her conversation with Mother and Nikolai. Such relief was on his face, such joy. As usual, he brought her something. As they sat on the floor next to each other, she unwrapped the package eagerly. There was some white bread, a piece of cheese and an apple. An apple in winter! She blinked in amazement.
‘The truck will pick you up tomorrow at four. Don’t be late. I’ll be driving.’
For a second she stopped eating. ‘Where will I be?’
‘In the back with the other soldiers.’ Her face must have changed because he added, ‘Don’t be scared. It will be alright.’
‘I’m not scared.’ She tried to sound brave, for him. ‘Are we passing Lvov?’ He nodded. She smiled. To see a town filled with so many memories, to catch even the slightest glimpse of the streets she knew, how wonderful. But then it occurred to her that Lvov was occupied just like Kiev was occupied. Had Lvov become scorched earth, too? Had it burnt like Kiev had burnt? Did Lvov, too, have its own Babi Yar? The smile vanished off her face.
‘Pack as lightly as possible,’ said Mark. ‘When we get to Hungary, my mother will lend you some clothes until we can buy you something new. She’s a size or two bigger but it doesn’t matter.’
‘Mark, when do you think I’ll see my family again?’
His arms around her tightened. ‘As soon as the war is over, we’ll come back to Kiev together. You, me, a baby…’
‘A baby?’ She looked up into his face.
He picked her up off the floor and positioned her on his lap. ‘Wouldn’t your mama like a grandchild?’
‘She would, so much. She loves children.’ The thought of having a child far from home, away from her mother and the rest of her family, filled Natasha with dread.
Mark said, ‘I hope you love children, too, because I want at least a dozen.’
‘A dozen?’
‘I come from a big family, remember? All boys, though, and I always wanted a sister. We’ll have to keep trying till we have one of each.’ He grinned.
Uncertainly, she grinned back. ‘I want children so much. But I also want my family around when I have them.’
‘I know it feels terrible to leave your family behind. I wish you didn’t have to go through that. I wish there was another way.’
But they both knew there was no other way.
‘In Hungary we can be al
one together and not worry about being heard. We won’t have to hide. Everyone will know you’re mine.’
‘I love you, Mark. Did you know that? I love you so much.’
‘I love you, too. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me and I want to marry you.’ There were tears in his eyes.
‘You do?’ she whispered. There were tears in her eyes, too.
‘I do. What do you say? Will you marry me?’
She sat up, watching him in disbelief, kissing the top of his head. Then she brought his face to hers. She wanted to see his eyes. ‘I will. Of course I will.’ She blinked.
‘As soon as we arrive, I’ll give you my grandmother’s ring. It can be your engagement ring. Then you’ll never forget that we’re getting married.’
‘Like I need a ring to remind me I’m yours. How could I forget?’ Feeling suddenly shy, she buried her face in his shoulder.
‘I’m so glad you are coming with me. I could never leave Kiev without you.’
As they made love, they kept their clothes on because taking them off required too much effort, too much time. Over and over Mark whispered how much he loved her. Natasha wanted to say it back, wanted to tell him that she loved him more than life itself but she was too weak. She bit her lip to stop herself from moaning softly into his chest, right where his heart was.
Chapter 13 – Freedom’s Elusive Glare
January 1942
In the living room, under a pile of old newspapers, Natasha found Stanislav’s old backpack and filled it with her clothes, a small piece of bread and a couple of books. She filled her pockets with family photographs and made sure she packed her passport, her birth certificate, and her high school certificate, just in case. Mark told her to bring her documents so that they could get married as soon as they arrived in Hungary.
Natasha didn’t want anyone other than Mother and Nikolai to know about her departure. It was safer that way. But she couldn’t leave without seeing her grandfather one last time. She needed to say goodbye to her dedushka, who had given her his love for history and interest in how things worked. Her dedushka, who had always told her she could do anything she put her mind to, who believed in her when no one else did. Her dedushka, whom she loved unconditionally and who loved her. She paused at his door, searching her heart for courage.
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