The Story of Us

by Lana Kortchik

  ‘It’s all I’ve ever wanted, you know that. But I don’t want you to rush into something you’re not ready for.’

  ‘I am,’ she said. The words felt strange on her tongue. ‘Ready, I mean.’

  ‘It’s a bit of a surprise.’

  ‘You can say no if you want to. I won’t get upset, I promise.’ Suddenly she wanted him to say no. If he said no, she wouldn’t have to go through with it. If she asked and he said no, her conscience would be clear.

  ‘I didn’t say it wasn’t a pleasant surprise.’ There it was, the smile she was waiting for. His eyes sparkled. ‘We can do it tomorrow. I know someone at the registry office.’ He looked at her for a second, then pulled her close. Afraid that he was about to kiss her, she stepped back and was instantly concerned he would notice her reluctance. She didn’t want to upset him. He enveloped her in a hug and she found herself smothered into his shoulder. He smelt clean, of soap, cigarettes and something else, something she couldn’t quite place. It wasn’t unpleasant, just unfamiliar. Suddenly she could no longer breathe. She wanted the hug to be over, wanted to go back to her room where she could be alone with her babies. She leant back, resisting his embrace. And in a moment, he released her.

  In bed that night, Natasha whispered Mark’s name as she stared into darkness, contemplating marrying someone else, contemplating a life without ever seeing the one person she couldn’t live without.

  ‘You are the one I want to spend my life with. You are the one I want to marry,’ Mark said to Natasha one cold January afternoon. The last afternoon they had ever spent together. ‘When we are married, you’ll be forever mine.’

  ‘I’m yours now,’ she said, touching the stubble on his chin. ‘Forever’

  *

  When Natasha woke up the next morning, it was pitch black outside. She stayed in bed until the sun was up at six and then, bleary-eyed, stumbled to the bathroom to wash. She was surprised to find everyone else in the household awake. Everyone, that was, except Yuri, who was an excellent sleeper, and Mikhail, because not even a wedding could faze him. Although she hadn’t told anyone about their plans, they all seemed to know. When Yuri finally appeared in the kitchen two hours later, smiling and rubbing his eyes, Nikolai put his arm around him and said, ‘Finally you’ll be a part of our family.’

  ‘He’s been a part of our family from day one.’ Mother pulled Yuri into a hug. ‘And now it’s going to be official.’

  ‘Tell us everything. How did you propose? What did my sister say?’ Nikolai danced on the spot.

  ‘She proposed to me,’ said Yuri, grinning.

  ‘I can’t believe it!’ exclaimed Nikolai, staring at Natasha, his eyes like two round saucers.

  ‘In some cultures it’s considered good luck for a woman to ask a man for his hand in marriage,’ said Grandfather.

  ‘What cultures are those?’ muttered Nikolai.

  ‘Natasha knew a good thing when she saw it. No point beating around the bush,’ said Mother. She was unusually chipper, flittering around the kitchen, preparing stew out of the few potatoes she’d managed to procure at the market. ‘It’s not the five-course meal your father and I had on our wedding day,’ she said to Natasha. ‘But we’ll have plenty of stew to celebrate with.’

  Natasha wanted to ask how one could celebrate with stew, but didn’t.

  ‘I didn’t sleep for weeks waiting for your father to propose,’ said Mother. ‘Much better to do the asking. Then you know when it’s going to happen.’

  ‘But you don’t know what he’s going to say. What if Yuri had said no?’ demanded Nikolai.

  Natasha shrugged. ‘Then he would have said no.’

  ‘You knew I would never say no,’ said Yuri, winking.

  Suddenly Natasha wanted to scream. She closed her eyes and counted to ten. When that didn’t help, she got up and without saying a word walked back to her room.

  As soon as she closed the bedroom door behind her, wanting nothing more than to pull the cover over her head and hide, there was a soft knock and the door opened. Natasha looked up to find her grandfather smiling down at her. Even though it was early, he was already dressed in his best suit, which used to fit perfectly but was now loose around his shoulders and waist. His face looked gaunt but his eyes sparkled. He sat next to Natasha. ‘Big day for you today,’ he said.

  Natasha sighed.

  ‘I remember the day I married your grandmother. She was so happy. Couldn’t stop crying, either.’ He touched Natasha’s damp cheek. ‘She was barely sixteen.’

  ‘Younger than me,’ whispered Natasha.

  ‘I wish she could see you today. She would have been so proud.’

  ‘I miss her, Dedushka.’

  ‘We all do. Not a day goes by when I don’t wish I could talk to her, look at her, hold her. We think we have all the time in the world with someone and then suddenly, before we know it, they’re gone.’

  ‘I know what you mean. There’s so much I want to say to Papa, to Olga, to Babushka, to…’ She paused. ‘But it’s too late. I keep expecting to turn around and see her.’

  ‘I still talk to her sometimes.’

  Natasha took her grandfather’s hand. ‘Dedushka, do you think I’m making a mistake?’

  ‘Do you love him?’

  She wanted to tell her grandfather that she loved Yuri like a friend, like an older brother. That she would never love him like a husband. But she didn’t know how to say any of it. Uncertainly she nodded.

  ‘Then you’re doing the right thing. There is no point waiting until the war is over. Life’s too short, Natasha. We must live every day as if it’s our last. Now more than ever.’

  Natasha could hear excited voices coming from the kitchen. When she spoke, her own voice was barely audible. ‘But what if I don’t know what the right thing to do is?’

  ‘Listen to your heart. Does it tell you to marry Yuri? Then you should marry him.’

  Her heart was telling her to do everything in her power to protect those close to her. Then why did it feel like she was about to step on a tightrope between two tallest buildings in Kiev? ‘When you married Babushka, how did you know it was the right thing to do?’

  ‘When you meet the one, you just know. It feels right. All your doubts disappear.’

  In the dim light, Grandfather put his arm around Natasha’s shoulders. ‘I’m very happy for you and Yuri. He loves you very much. He’ll do everything in his power to make you happy. Now, look at this.’ Grandfather showed her a small velvet-covered box. ‘Babushka would have wanted me to give you this.’

  Natasha opened the box. ‘Babushka’s wedding ring.’ She gasped. Her hand shook so badly, she almost dropped the ring. ‘Thank you, Dedushka. Thank you so much.’ Her eyes bathed in tears, she held him close.

  ‘Your babushka loved this ring. She always said she would give it to you or Lisa when one of you got married.’

  ‘It should have been Lisa. She should have been the one who married first.’ Natasha thought of Lisa’s beaming face on the day Alexei had asked her to marry him. She thought of her sister’s body rocked by sobs as Alexei had been dragged away by the Gestapo. ‘Things should have been different.’ She looked at the ring, turned it this way and that, tried it on. ‘It’s beautiful. It was Babushka’s most cherished possession. Look, it fits.’

  ‘It looks lovely on you. I remember as if it was yesterday placing this ring on your babushka’s finger. May it bring you all the happiness you deserve. God bless you always.’

  After Grandfather left, Natasha got dressed in front of a large mirror, while her babies attempted to play with their reflections. For once their antics didn’t make her smile. She wore her mother’s green dress with brown stripes, the dress Father bought for Mother’s birthday on Kreshchatyk many years ago. He bought it one sweltering summer afternoon in a big department store that had now been reduced to ash. The dress was two sizes too big for Natasha before the war and now it hung around her like a tent. Even with a belt around her waist,
the dress looked out of place.

  When Yuri saw her in the dress, he whispered, ‘You look beautiful.’ Natasha lowered her gaze, muttered a ‘thank you’ and put her coat on. Just like the dress, the coat was borrowed and didn’t fit.

  Mikhail had volunteered to look after the babies, while Natasha, Yuri, Nikolai, Grandfather and Mother buckled their belts and left the apartment. The registry office was only two short blocks away. Yuri pointed at the drab building that was missing most of the glass in its windows. ‘It was an old kindergarten. Before the war, I mean. That’s a good sign, don’t you think?’ But Natasha couldn’t return his smile. She knew how desperately he wanted children. She didn’t have the strength to point out that the room registering marriages was next to the room registering deaths. The queue in that room spilled out the door and all the way down the corridor.

  She felt her knees weaken.

  They walked in, Natasha at the rear. She dawdled at the entrance until Mother motioned for her to join them. The room registering marriages was dark. With its heavy curtains that didn’t admit much light, it looked anything but festive. There was a threadbare red carpet on the floor and no furniture other than a large table and a chair that contained a stern-looking woman in her forties. On the wall there was a large portrait of Hitler. Natasha saw it out of the corner of her eye and turned quickly away.

  When she was a child dreaming of her wedding day, she had imagined herself wearing a white dress surrounded by friends and family, with Olga and Lisa by her side, looking into the smiling face of the man she loved. In her fantasy, there was definitely no Hitler sneering from a faded wooden frame.

  As if sensing Natasha’s doubt, Yuri took her hand. She looked at him and pressed his fingers gently. But when she closed her eyes, it wasn’t Yuri’s face that she saw.

  As soon as they walked in, the official rose to her feet, indicating the spot in front of the table where they were to stand. Natasha and Yuri advanced, leaving Mother, Nikolai and Grandfather a few steps behind. For a few seconds there was silence and then the woman spoke. Her voice, her face, her whole demeanour seemed out of place here, as if they belonged somewhere else, perhaps in the room next door.

  ‘Entering into this marriage are…’ The woman stumbled and consulted a piece of paper in front of her, then read out their names.

  The official droned on about the importance of marriage and the role of family but Natasha didn’t listen. She was too busy thinking of the first time she had walked through Shevchenko Park with Mark. She couldn’t remember what they talked about, nor what she was wearing. What she did remember, however, was the way her heart skipped every time she looked into his face and the way his eyes lit up whenever he saw her. Mother was right. Not the war, nor her own doubts could take away the memories of those hours with him in the golden autumn park, on the burnt-out winter streets as they clung to each other in the desperation of their first love.

  Suddenly there was silence in the room. The official was no longer talking. When Natasha opened her eyes, she was surprised to find everybody staring at her. ‘Are you ready to accept the sacred duty of a wife?’ she repeated, narrowing her eyes at Natasha.

  Natasha nodded. Clearly that wasn’t good enough because the official was still watching her. ‘Yes,’ Natasha managed in the tiniest of whispers.

  She turned to Yuri. ‘Are you ready to accept the sacred duty of a husband?’

  ‘I am,’ said Yuri and although his voice shook, it was loud.

  When, according to the Russian tradition, Yuri placed Babushka’s ring on the ring finger of her right hand, Natasha squeezed her eyes shut, struggling not to cry. She noticed that Yuri, too, had tears on his face. The difference was that he was smiling.

  ‘You may now kiss,’ she said. Yuri kissed Natasha lightly, as if sensing her reluctance. It was the first time she had felt his lips on hers, the first time she had felt any man’s lips other than Mark’s. She was surprised at how profoundly unnatural it seemed.

  They were then invited to sign the documents. Mother and Grandfather acted as their witnesses. Yuri was the first to sign. When it was Natasha’s turn, the illegible scribble her shaking hand managed to produce looked nothing like her handwriting. Finally, the registrar put her own signature next to theirs and stamped their passports.

  ‘From now on and forever you are husband and wife.’ The words reached Natasha as if through a fog.

  The ceremony was over in less than ten minutes. Before Natasha knew it, they were exiting the building and passing the queue of people registering deaths – the queue which, far from diminishing, had now increased to twice its original size.

  As soon as they stepped outside, Mother, who had been subdued inside exclaimed, ‘Congratulations!’ Her eyes sparkled. She held Yuri for a fraction of a second and then held Natasha, not letting go until Grandfather demanded his turn. Grandfather passed Natasha to the excited Nikolai and proceeded to hug Yuri.

  Natasha couldn’t look at the overjoyed faces around her. She watched the clouds that were gathering overhead and the dark specs in the distance that rapidly grew in size until they finally transformed into German aircrafts. She counted them. There were three, four, five, six dots in the darkened sky.

  At home, Natasha sat at the table with her eyes closed, while everyone around her chattered, ate and drank tea. Mother couldn’t stop hugging Yuri. Nikolai couldn’t stop talking. Mikhail couldn’t stop smiling. Even the twins seemed to sense that something out of the ordinary was happening and babbled happily. Only Natasha hadn’t touched her bowl of stew.

  ‘More tea, anyone? I still have a couple of German biscuits hidden away for a rainy day,’ said Mother.

  ‘I don’t think today qualifies,’ replied Yuri, laughing. ‘Despite everything, this is the happiest day of my life.’

  Mother said with a wink, ‘A rainy day or a special occasion.’ She looked at Yuri with wonder. ‘Just look at him. How tall he is, how handsome. Look at his beautiful green eyes, his beautiful blond hair.’ Yuri’s face went red and he gazed at the floor. Mother added, ‘This is a good sign. Marfa predicted this.’

  Natasha faintly remembered the day when the two of them had walked to the outskirts of Kiev in search of answers.

  ‘Marfa knew this would happen. Like she knew Stanislav is alive,’ said Mother.

  After the stew and the German biscuits were gone, Grandfather and Mikhail retired to the living room to resume their game of chess. Mother finished her tea. ‘Time to go back to the library,’ she said. ‘Come on, Nikolai, let’s go.’

  ‘Why do I have to go? I don’t work at the library. I haven’t finished eating yet.’

  Mother pulled him by the arm. ‘Come on. Give the newlyweds some privacy.’

  When they were alone together, Yuri said, ‘What a day.’

  Natasha nodded. She didn’t feel like talking.

  Yuri continued, ‘Could you believe the face of that registrar? I’ve never seen anyone so glum.’

  ‘Don’t we all look a bit glum these days?’ she said.

  ‘But not today! I can’t stop smiling today.’

  ‘I’ve noticed.’ Nervously she clasped her hands.

  ‘Why don’t you have a cup of tea? You haven’t eaten anything since we got back.’

  ‘Maybe later. I think I need sleep, not food.’

  ‘Didn’t sleep much last night?’ When she shook her head, he said, ‘Neither did I.’ He finished his tea and put his cup away. ‘I know this is not exactly what you wanted.’ She looked up at him in surprise. He continued, ‘Every girl dreams of a big wedding. When the war is over, we’ll do it all again. We’ll have a big celebration. We can even get married in a church.’

  ‘A church?’ She was surprised.

  ‘I believe that marriage should be blessed by God. What do you think?’

  ‘I’ve never even been to church.’

  ‘Never? My mama used to drag me every Sunday. There was a church in the nearby village. But we don’t have to do it if
you aren’t comfortable with it.’

  ‘We’ll do whatever you want.’

  Not taking his eyes off her, he asked, ‘So tell me, why did you change your mind?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Why did you change your mind about marrying me?’

  What could Natasha say to that? Could she tell him the truth? Could she tell him that she had lost so many people she loved, she couldn’t stand losing him, too? That she couldn’t live with herself knowing that she had it in her power to keep him safe but chose not to? Could she tell him all that and risk hurting his feelings? ‘We are friends, aren’t we? And you love Costa and Larisa so much.’ She stumbled over her words. She didn’t want to upset him but she didn’t want to lie to him, either. He didn’t deserve her lies. He deserved better. ‘I thought… if we got married, they wouldn’t send you to Germany. And I couldn’t bear it if they sent you to Germany. I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to you.’

  He let go of her hand. Even though she was facing away from him, she could sense his disappointment. It was a physical presence in the kitchen, like a dark cloud over their heads. It wasn’t what he wanted to hear and she knew it. But she also knew that what he wanted to hear was the one thing she couldn’t tell him.

  After a long silence, he said, ‘It might gain us some time. They’re taking single men first. When they run out of single men, they’ll take those with families.’

  ‘Maybe the Red Army will be back before then.’

  ‘Yes, maybe.’ He stood up, pulled out a cigarette and opened the kitchen window. ‘This is the second time you’ve saved my life, Natasha. I’ll never forget that.’

  That night, Natasha turned to the wall, next to her babies, next to her mother, next to Lisa’s empty bed. Mother shook her in the dark and whispered, ‘Natasha, what are you doing? It’s your wedding night. Shouldn’t you be next door with your husband?’

  Natasha didn’t reply. She closed her eyes and pretended to sleep.

  How could she be with Yuri, when her heart and soul were Mark’s? How could she let Yuri touch her? Being with someone else meant admitting that Mark was never coming back. If she went next door to Yuri, she would be betraying Mark and betraying herself, and she couldn’t do that. Even though Yuri was her husband, she would always belong to another man.