‘Where were you two hours ago when they were screaming the house down? How did you get them to be quiet?’ asked Natasha.
‘I’ll tell you for a German biscuit.’
‘He’s a natural,’ said Grandfather, watching the two little faces that were now peaceful and content. His eyes were misty, his gaze unfocused. He turned to Natasha. ‘I remember like yesterday the day you were born. They look just like you when you were little.’
Natasha didn’t argue with her grandfather, even though she knew that her children didn’t look like her at all. They were the spitting image of Mark.
Was there a life before the twins? She could hardly remember it. Her babies’ needs enveloped her and she no longer felt alone. When she opened her eyes and looked at them, their tiny faces brought her comfort. And she needed comfort because, when she closed her eyes, all she saw, all she could think of was Mark.
Night after restless night, she felt for him in the dark, imagining his face, wondering where he was. And as the twins slept by her side, she folded and unfolded the cursed letter that had sown doubt and suspicion in her heart. What if at that very moment, while Natasha was cradling his babies and whispering his name, Mark was with Julia, in his beloved Hungary, married and content? What if he never even gave a second thought to her? Had she just been a passing fancy to him, a conquest to amuse him during his time in the Soviet Union? She saw Mark’s adoring face as he asked her to marry him, on what had turned out to be their last day together. Was it all a lie? Was he planning to leave her behind all along, to return to Hungary and marry someone else? And if he was, why ask her to come with him at all? Why not just slip away one day, without a word, without a goodbye? He loves me, she whispered to herself. He loves me. While another voice in her head, the voice she was doing her level best to ignore, repeated, But isn’t that exactly what happened? He slipped away one day, without a word, without a goodbye.
No, it wasn’t her Mark. The man she loved more than anything in the world, who she loved since the moment he had rescued her that night in the park, wasn’t capable of such deception. She wished she had never come across the letter. She didn’t want her beautiful memories of Mark to be tarnished by doubt and suspicion. But if he hadn’t returned to Hungary with the other soldiers, that only meant one thing. He had been arrested and possibly killed. As Natasha placed her trembling hands on the twins’ chests and felt for their heartbeats, she prayed that Mark had abandoned her for someone else because the other possibility – that he had died because of her – was too terrible to contemplate.
Chapter 15 – The Utmost Chaos
November–December 1942
As the twins lay sound asleep in her lap, Natasha watched the first snow outside, while next to her, Yuri and Nikolai were playing the Russian Fool.
‘Natasha, help. Your brother is clearing me out. I almost lost all my money,’ said Yuri. Nikolai rubbed his hands together, looking smug.
‘What do you want me to do about it?’ asked Natasha.
‘Come here and win it back.’
Nikolai chuckled.
Natasha frowned. ‘Why? Because I’m so lucky in cards? Anyway, I don’t see the point of this game. I’d rather play chess.’ As soon as she said that, a needle of pain pricked her heart and she looked away, hoping Yuri and her brother wouldn’t notice her tears. Remembering Mark’s face as he leaned across the chessboard, touching her cheek and saying, ‘You win, again! One more game?’
‘Chess is too complicated,’ said Yuri. ‘Cards are much more fun.’
‘Maybe next time. The babies keep waking.’ Natasha cradled her little ones and sang, ‘And with my heart I rush forth to a dark tiny orchard – to Ukraine.’ When she closed her eyes, she was no longer in their Podol apartment but walking through Shevchenko Park arm in arm with a soldier in Hungarian uniform.
‘Taras Shevchenko? Is it appropriate singing material for little babies? No wonder they can’t sleep,’ said Yuri.
Blinking her thoughts away, Natasha said. ‘It’s not that. Every time Larisa settles, Costa starts crying, waking her up. And the other way around. It’s a vicious circle.’
‘Let’s play,’ said Nikolai. ‘Enough distractions. There’s money to be won.’
‘To be lost, you mean?’ said Natasha.
For a few moments nothing was heard but shuffling of cards and exasperated breaths. And then Nikolai exclaimed, ‘You lose.’
‘You have no one to blame but yourself,’ Natasha said to Yuri. ‘Haven’t you ever read Owen Feltham? Do you know what he said about playing for money?’
‘Who is Owen Feltham and what did he say?’
‘The famous English writer said that by gambling we lose our time and treasure, two things most precious to the life of man.’
‘He was right. Where did the time go? I have to run. Gregory is waiting for me.’ Yuri stood up, handed all his coins to Nikolai and left.
A minute later, there was a knock on the door. ‘What did he forget?’ muttered Natasha.
She opened the door, expecting to see Yuri. In the hall, in a threadbare red coat that Natasha had never seen before, thinner than she remembered, stood Lisa.
So shocked was Natasha by this sudden apparition, she slammed the door in Lisa’s face, leaning against it. Lisa knocked again. ‘Natasha, please, open up, I need to talk to you.’ She knocked harder.
Natasha walked back to the living room and shut the door to block out Lisa’s entreaties. Unfortunately, either the door was too thin or her sister’s voice was too loud because she could still hear Lisa for another twenty minutes.
As Lisa knocked and shouted, Natasha could sense Nikolai’s gaze on her. He didn’t say a word but watched her as if waiting for something. Did he expect her to open the door to Lisa and let her in? Did he want an explanation? Natasha turned away from her brother and towards the front door that was shaking under Lisa’s vigour.
Finally, Nikolai asked, ‘What happened between you and Lisa? Everyone behaves like she’s done something terrible. But what?’
Natasha sighed. ‘I wish I knew exactly.’
‘You think it’s her, don’t you? You think she’s the reason why Mark never arrived that day.’
Hearing the words out loud was a thousand times more difficult than hearing them in her head. Before Mark’s disappearance, Natasha had genuinely believed that Lisa had forgiven her. They had always been so close, and Natasha had never meant to hurt Lisa. But if what Mother had told Natasha was correct, and Lisa did go to the Gestapo and denounce Mark, then she had deliberately done something to destroy Natasha, to smash her heart into a million tiny shards. How was it possible? Who was capable of such an abysmal betrayal? Not the sister Natasha had known and loved.
As if reading her mind, Nikolai said, ‘Why would she do something like this? It’s Lisa we are talking about. I know she’s selfish, but she’s not cruel.’
‘I suppose she thought I deserved it.’ Was that what it was: an eye for an eye? Natasha had lied to Lisa, and by doing so allowed Alexei to be taken away and killed. So Lisa took Natasha’s love away from her and sent him to a certain death. Lisa’s heart was broken, so she felt she had every right to break Natasha’s heart in return. Natasha wondered if it had made Lisa feel better. Did Mark’s arrest, if he had indeed been arrested, make Lisa’s heart any less broken? It certainly didn’t bring Alexei back. Or was Mother right? Did Lisa denounce Mark because in her warped mind she thought she was doing Natasha a favour, stopping her from making a mistake?
Nikolai said, ‘You can’t shut her out forever. She’s still our sister. I feel like I’m caught in the middle. I don’t want to take sides. I miss her.’
‘I know you do, Nikolai. I’m sorry.’ This was what the two of them had done, she realised. Caught up in their heartbreak and their hatred, Lisa and Natasha had created a rift that was breaking their family apart. And those closest to them were paying for it, as if the war and the Nazis were not enough.
*
November turned into December, and dry autumn leaves gave way to the first winter snow. Lisa hadn’t come back. Natasha’s daily routine enveloped her: feeding, washing, rocking, singing, day after day, night after night, a never-ending circle that left no space for feeling, no space for thoughts other than those of her babies. Soon she forgot all about Lisa until one cold day in the second week of December when it was just her and Grandfather at home with the babies. There was a sharp knock, and when Natasha opened the door, she found herself face to face with Claudia. Since the twins were born, their neighbour stopped by regularly. She seemed even more stooped and frail than before. But her no-nonsense voice hadn’t changed. ‘Quick, tell your mother to come and see me. I need her help.’
‘Mama’s at the library,’ said Natasha. ‘She spends all her time there now. More and more people come to read the books. She feels needed.’
Claudia waved her hands as if swatting off a fly. She didn’t care about the library. ‘That’s a shame. I need help urgently.’
‘Can I help instead?’
‘I want her to mend some clothes for me. I’d do it myself but my hands shake.’ She raised her hands as if to prove her point.
Natasha wanted to ask what was so urgent about mending a few old garments but she didn’t want to upset someone who was old enough to be her great-grandmother. ‘Maybe I could do it?’
Claudia didn’t reply. She spotted the two infants who were sound asleep after their feeding. All urgency seemingly forgotten, she crossed the corridor in three long strides and lowered her head until it was level with Costa’s, muttering disjointed sentences under her breath. The boy didn’t stir. Natasha noticed that about her babies. When they wanted to, they could sleep through cannon and mortar.
‘Look at these two little angels! Still alive and doing so well.’ Claudia sounded pleased, if a little surprised.
‘Angels? You should have heard them ten minutes ago.’
‘Really? I didn’t hear a thing. And I’m only downstairs from you.’
Natasha wanted to point out that if an explosion went off in Claudia’s kitchen, she wouldn’t have heard. Instead, she said, ‘Come, Claudia Ivanovna, I’ll help you with your clothes.’
Claudia looked as if Natasha had offered to perform complex heart surgery. ‘Do you know how?’
‘Of course I do. I’m good with my hands. Look at the socks I knit for my little ones.’
Claudia contemplated Costa and Larisa’s tiny feet. ‘You call those socks? They look like furry beetroots.’
‘But they’re warm and that’s all that matters.’
Having asked her grandfather to keep an eye on the children, Natasha followed the neighbour downstairs. It was the first time she had left her babies since they were born. She felt lost, as if without a child attached to her hip she no longer knew how to move. She tried to spend as little time as possible in Claudia’s small but unexpectedly clean apartment but unfortunately, once the old lady got hold of Natasha, she had no intention of letting her go. There was plenty of work to be done, plenty of little tasks around the house that she was too weak to do herself. Three hours, a pile of mended clothes and four polished windows later, the exhausted Natasha stumbled back home.
In the apartment, Mikhail’s war songs were playing loudly on the gramophone. Grandfather was asleep, a newspaper in his lap, his glasses perched precariously on the tip of his nose. The instant Natasha walked in, she knew something wasn’t right. The door to her bedroom was closed. And she could almost swear she had left it open. Did Grandfather close it? But why would he, if the babies were asleep inside and Natasha had asked him to keep an eye on them? She felt the small hairs at the back of her neck stir in fear.
Taking a deep breath, she pushed the door with her shoulder. Someone was in the room. By the worn-out red coat, by the shape of the back, Natasha knew instantly who it was. Her sister looked as shocked at being caught as Natasha was at finding her there. In her arms Lisa held Larisa. A small bag was dangling from Lisa’s hand.
Natasha sprang towards Lisa and wrestled Larisa from her sister’s arms so violently that both Lisa and Larisa cried out. Natasha didn’t know where she found the strength. She clutched her crying daughter tightly with one hand, while with the other pushed her sister until she lost her balance and almost fell.
Natasha couldn’t speak and Lisa wouldn’t speak. They stood gaping at each other, panting, overwrought. When Natasha recovered her voice, she said, ‘What do you think you’re doing? Where were you taking her?’
Shrieks filled the room. The twins were red in the face, kicking with their little legs, lashing out with their fists. Natasha rocked her daughter, glaring at Lisa.
‘Nowhere,’ said Lisa. Her lower lip trembled, her hands fiddled with her hair. She didn’t look at Natasha.
‘Lisa, I saw you. What did you think you were doing with her?’ Natasha shouted. She looked around, expecting Grandfather to come in and enquire what all the commotion was about. But either he was still asleep in his chair or Mikhail’s music was loud enough to drown their voices. It was just her, Lisa and the shrieking babies in the room.
‘I was just picking her up. Don’t I have a right to hold my niece? Just wanted to see her face. Look, she has my nose.’
‘Stop lying.’ Natasha put the wriggling Larisa on the bed and pulled at the small bag in Lisa’s hands until it fell on the floor, spilling baby clothes all over the carpet. ‘Oh my God, Lisa. What are you doing?’
‘I’m not doing anything.’
‘Were you trying to take my daughter?’ Natasha went to push Lisa again but at the last moment changed her mind and paused with her arms outstretched in front of her sister.
‘Of course not. Why would I do that?’ said Lisa. Natasha didn’t know how she was able to control her anger. Her hands shook from the effort. And her sister knew it. Shuffling from foot to foot, she mumbled, ‘I was just borrowing her for an hour or two.’
‘An hour or two? You have enough clothes here to last her a month.’ Natasha could barely get the words out. ‘Are you insane? What were you going to do with her? She needs to be fed constantly. What were you thinking?’
‘I tried to talk to you. Tried to ask you nicely.’
‘Ask what nicely?’ Natasha wondered when Lisa was leaving. Why was she here, in Natasha’s house, in the room where she lived with her babies?
‘I came to see you but you refused to listen. What was I supposed to do?’
‘I don’t know, Lisa. What do you want from us?’
Lisa reached for her bag. She tipped it upside down and knelt on the floor, rummaging through the clothes and finally resurfacing with a crumpled piece of paper. Without a word she handed it to her sister. Reluctantly Natasha attempted to decipher the writing. Either the letters were blurry or her eyes couldn’t focus. Was it in German or Ukrainian? She couldn’t tell. ‘What is it?’
‘Read it.’
Natasha wiped her tears away. The words were no longer fuzzy. It was an order for a Lisa Smirnova to come to Nekrasovskaya Street for compulsory mobilisation to Germany. Failure to do so was punishable by death. The paper was dated three weeks ago.
‘They’re looking for me, Natasha. I can’t hide forever. Sooner or later they’re going to find me. And then I’ll be on the next train to wonderful and prosperous Germany.’ Lisa’s face twisted as she quoted from the propaganda poster. ‘Well, I’m not going. Whatever it takes, I’m going to fight it.’
Natasha watched her sister in silence.
‘I can’t go to Germany, you know I can’t. I’ll die there,’ said Lisa.
‘What do you want from us?’
‘Mother told me you haven’t registered your babies yet.’
‘I haven’t had a chance. What does it have to do with you? What does it have to do with Germany?’
‘Isn’t it obvious? They don’t send women with small children to Germany. You have two babies. It could save both of us.’
Natasha blinked. ‘Are you out of
your mind? You want to register my little girl as your daughter?’
‘I would do anything to avoid going to Germany.’
‘You’re unbelievable. Simply unbelievable. Just when I thought you couldn’t sink any lower.’
‘Please, Natasha. I’m begging you. I can’t go to Germany, I just can’t. I’m too young to die.’ Lisa’s body convulsed.
‘Mark was too young to die,’ Natasha whispered. Lisa didn’t seem to hear.
‘Please, sister. Look at me. Can’t you see? I’m on my knees. Please, if not for me, do it for our Mama. I’m still your sister.’
‘How convenient. You’re my sister when it suits you.’ When Lisa didn’t reply, Natasha hissed, ‘Don’t you understand? You betrayed me and the man I love.’
‘No, you don’t understand. I saved you. I saved you from making the biggest mistake.’
‘How can you be so blind? You’re blinded by your selfishness.’
‘And you were blinded by your love. What were you thinking? To cross Europe in a truck, to go through a hundred German patrols, to turn your back on your family, to risk your life and for what? For him?’ Lisa laughed in Natasha’s face but her eyes remained cold.
‘No one asked you to fix my life for me.’
‘You had no future together. You thought you did but you were delusional. And for that delusion, you were ready to sacrifice everything. You were going to another country, Natasha, and leaving us behind. Mama, Dedushka, Nikolai, me. A fine daughter you are, abandoning your mother. You were leaving for good, possibly never to see us again, and you didn’t even say goodbye.’
Lisa’s voice was barely audible over Costa and Larisa’s crying. But still audible.
‘Don’t make excuses, Lisa. Nothing you say can justify what you’ve done. No matter how much you twist what happened to make it look like it was my fault. You took my heart and broke it into a million fragments. Out of spite and jealousy you killed the only man I have ever loved. Not so brave now, are you, Lisa? Where are your friends from the Gestapo when you’re faced with deportation? What, your honourable act doesn’t buy you a safe pass? What did you get for denouncing Mark? A piece of stale bread? A handful of chestnuts? You went to the Nazis and betrayed us, didn’t you? How can you live with yourself?’
The Story of Us Page 25
