The Story of Us

by Lana Kortchik

  Yuri read the few lines she pointed out to him. Afterwards, he said, ‘Natasha, I can’t imagine anyone loving you and forgetting you so easily. I am sure that whatever happened, he loved you till the end. If he died, he died loving you.’

  ‘Do you really think so?’

  ‘I know so.’

  This conversation must have been so difficult for him and yet, not a muscle on his face moved. ‘Thank you for being so kind,’ she whispered.

  For a second he looked embarrassed. Then his face grew serious. ‘There’s a return address on the envelope. When the occupation is over, why don’t you write to Mark’s mother and ask her what happened to him? If anything happened to Mark his parents would have been notified.’

  He took her hand and added, ‘Either way, you need to know. You can’t go through the rest of your life not knowing. You need to find out what happened, so you can move on.’

  ‘You are right,’ she managed in the smallest of whispers. ‘I’ll write to Mark’s mother. As soon as the occupation is over.’

  Yuri pulled Natasha closer and his lips touched her forehead. ‘As to you and me, I’m not giving up. I’ll wait as long as it takes. One day you will realise how much I love you and notice me. When that day comes, I’m planning to be around.’

  Relaxing into his arms, Natasha cried silently. She wished she could feel for Yuri what he felt for her, but it was impossible. Her heart belonged irrevocably to Mark. He had saved her life, and she was his, forever. No one else could breach her defences, not even Yuri with his kindness and his patience.

  *

  In the morning, the family woke to find two strangers asleep in the garden. They were sprawled on the damp grass, while hundreds of evacuees ambled past, glancing into the windows to see if there was a place for them.

  ‘Who are they, Mama?’ Natasha asked. ‘Do you think they’ll leave soon?’

  ‘Doesn’t look like they have anywhere to go. Should we invite them in?’

  Natasha looked around the cramped house. ‘We don’t have much space.’

  ‘No, we don’t. But we can’t let them stay outside.’

  Natasha invited the couple in and they introduced themselves as Anatoly and Alina. They were barely through the door and out of their jackets when they told the Smirnovs that they had arrived from Priorka late the night before, after the Nazis had taken their cattle and burnt their house down. ‘Could we possibly stay with you until tomorrow?’ Anatoly begged. In his eyes, Natasha saw the familiar anxiety and desperation. ‘We can sleep in the garden if we have to. Better than sleeping on the street.’

  ‘Of course you can,’ said Mother, inviting them in for breakfast. The Smirnovs still had some potatoes and half a dozen chestnuts. Their guests had some bread and cheese. There was a stove in the house but no cutlery or plates or pans, so they sat on the floor in a circle, eating their food cold.

  Alina thanked Mother with tears in her eyes. ‘God bless you and your family,’ she repeated. ‘We didn’t know what to do, where to turn. All our belongings burnt, all our money and our documents.’

  ‘How did it happen?’ asked Mother.

  ‘The Nazis set fire to our house when they realised we didn’t have anything of value. What are we going to do?’

  ‘Wait for the Red Army to return, Comrade. When they are back, you won’t have to worry about a thing,’ said Grandfather.

  ‘You clearly haven’t heard what’s been happening in Kharkov,’ said Alina, widening her eyes.

  Mother said, ‘More potatoes, anyone?’

  ‘I’ll have a potato,’ said Nikolai.

  ‘Have it on a piece of bread. Natasha, you want some?’

  ‘Mama, wait. What is happening in Kharkov?’ asked Natasha.

  ‘The arrests, the executions, the reprisals.’ Alina shook.

  Suddenly Natasha was no longer hungry. ‘Reprisals?’ she whispered.

  ‘The Bolsheviks are punishing everyone they suspect of collaborating with the German regime,’ said Alina, shuddering.

  ‘Stop talking, woman,’ barked Anatoly. ‘We aren’t collaborators. We have nothing to fear.’

  ‘How will you prove that without our passports?’

  ‘The Bolsheviks are no Nazis. They can tell the good people from the bad.’

  ‘Tell that to those who were shot in Kharkov.’

  ‘Shot?’ exclaimed Natasha.

  ‘By the NKVD,’ replied Alina. ‘From what I’ve heard, many of them were innocent people just like us. Their only crime was trying to survive under the German regime. Taking jobs in German establishments. Digging trenches under the German guns.’

  Natasha glanced at Yuri. The piece of bread she was holding in her hand trembled.

  ‘Haven’t we been through enough?’ cried Mother. Natasha turned away from Mother and away from Alina. Facing the wall, she chewed her bread listlessly. She didn’t want to hear any more rumours. What she needed desperately to get through her day was her faith in the Red Army and the Bolsheviks. She needed to believe that they were coming to protect them, not prosecute them. Without that faith, what did she have left?

  ‘Those who were shot deserved it,’ said Anatoly. ‘And anyway, before we worry about the Soviets, we need to survive the Germans. The Red Army isn’t here yet.’

  ‘But it will be here, right?’ exclaimed Nikolai eagerly.

  Anatoly shrugged. ‘Eventually. They’re waiting for the ice to form on the Dnieper before they make their final attack.’

  ‘That could take months,’ mumbled Grandfather.

  Natasha shivered. ‘Months, Dedushka? We can’t live like this for months.’

  ‘Yes, and by the time they come, who will be left to welcome them? The Germans are taking all the men. Young, old, they are taking them all,’ said Alina.

  ‘Taking them where?’ asked Mother, glancing at Grandfather and Nikolai.

  ‘West somewhere. We managed to escape two round-ups yesterday.’ Alina clasped her hands together as if in prayer. ‘Thank God.’

  ‘What do they want with all the men?’ asked Natasha.

  When Alina didn’t reply, Grandfather said, ‘To dig trenches, no doubt, and to throw in front of the Soviet tanks.’

  ‘I’d rather die than help the Nazis against our soldiers,’ stated Nikolai, waving his hands about and almost hitting Natasha in the face with a piece of potato.

  Mother paled.

  Lowering her voice, Alina murmured, ‘Is there a hiding place here? Somewhere we could hide the men?’

  Mother said, ‘I doubt it. This place is too small. It’s nothing but bare walls.’

  ‘We have to find somewhere,’ wailed Alina, clinging to Anatoly. ‘I’ve lost so many people I love. I couldn’t bear losing my husband. It would kill me, absolutely kill me.’

  Mother’s face darkened. Natasha knew she was thinking of her own husband.

  ‘There’s a cellar underneath this room,’ said Yuri. He tapped a stone and pulled a hidden handle. A tiny entrance appeared. It was as if the cellar was built for this very purpose, to hide them from the Nazi patrol. A small ladder led downstairs. Yuri, Grandfather, Nikolai, Anatoly and Alina climbed down.

  Natasha peered down the ladder, putting her foot in front of inquisitive Costa to stop him from falling in.

  Just as Natasha was about to join them, there was a knock on the door. ‘Quick, Mama, let’s hide,’ she exclaimed.

  Another knock followed.

  ‘If we hide, they’ll break the door down. What if they have dogs? Someone has to stay up here and distract them.’ Mother leant close to Larisa, who whimpered in her arms.’They don’t care about us. They are after the men.’

  Natasha closed the opening to the cellar while Mother unlocked the front door to three officers in Gestapo uniforms. The Germans barged in, demanding to know if there were any men in the house. Natasha shook her head. ‘No men here, only women.’

  ‘Then you won’t mind if we look around.’ With a start Natasha realised that not only did t
he officer speak perfect Russian, but he was Russian. What a traitor, she thought, as the three of them pushed past her and proceeded to search the house. Not even glancing in the women’s direction, they walked from one empty room to the other. Natasha shuddered when they stepped over the trap door but it was so well camouflaged, the officers didn’t suspect a thing.

  The house was small and the search didn’t last long. A few minutes later the officers left without a word. Natasha realised she had been holding her breath the whole time. Only when the Nazis disappeared around the corner was she able to breathe freely.

  ‘That was lucky,’ she whispered.

  ‘I hope they’ll leave us alone now. The twins are asleep. It’s almost lunch time,’ said Mother, disappearing into the kitchen.

  And then they heard another knock. Natasha clenched her fists in fear. What did they want now? Wasn’t one search enough? Her hands shaking, she opened the door.

  In the doorway stood Mark.

  Chapter 18 – Against All Odds

  September 1943

  As if in a fog, Natasha watched Mark standing in the doorway. For a long time neither of them spoke. She blinked – once, twice. She closed her eyes. She had been dreaming of seeing his face for so long, she didn’t trust that what she saw in front of her was real. And then he said her name, so quietly, she could barely hear him. It wasn’t a whisper, it was a sigh, filled with pain, with longing. He was the only person she knew who pronounced her name that way, drawing every syllable as if in a caress.

  She opened her eyes.

  Mark’s face was very close. She could see his lips, his eyes, his beard. Beard! She looked at him in silence. If she raised her hand, she would be able to touch him. She raised her hand, choking on her tears.

  ‘Natasha, who is it?’ Mother called from the kitchen.

  Natasha couldn’t reply. She stepped into Mark’s arms. He held her tight, his face in her hair, his breathing heavy. His body was shaking just like hers.

  ‘Natasha, don’t cry. Please don’t cry,’ he repeated, stroking her hair. He kissed her lips; soft, tender kisses barely touching her.

  ‘Mark,’ she whispered. To be able to say his name out loud after all this time, not just to herself but to him, what happiness! She looked into his face, looked into his eyes and pressed her body close to his. As close as she could. ‘Is it really you? Please tell me I’m not imagining this.’

  ‘It’s really me.’ He pulled her up, his arms encircling her, his eyes bright.

  ‘Oh my God,’ she whispered. ‘Oh God.’ Her throat was suddenly dry. He was much thinner than she remembered, his face barely recognisable under the beard. But the smile was unmistakably his, the twinkle in his eye all too familiar. The same smile, the same twinkle she saw in Costa and Larisa every day.

  She touched his face and cried. She kissed his callused hands and cried. He whispered, ‘God, Natasha. Look at you. Finding you here, alive. I can’t believe it. You have no idea—’

  ‘I can’t believe it either.’ Her head on his chest, she listened for his heart. It was beating fast. ‘I can’t believe you’re here. Where did you come from? How did you find us?’

  So engrossed were they in each other, they didn’t notice Mother only a few steps away. ‘You must be Mark,’ she said.

  Natasha moved away from him. Not too far. She was still holding his hand. ‘It is Mark, Mama. Can you believe it?’

  ‘And you must be Zoya Alexeevna.’ Mark stretched his hand out for Mother to shake. ‘It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.’

  Mother motioned him inside and closed the door behind him. ‘Come in, come in.’ She turned to Natasha and tutted. ‘What are you thinking, standing in the doorway with patrols everywhere? Are you hungry, Mark?’

  ‘I am a little hungry.’

  ‘What can I get you? We have some potatoes. Would you like some?’ Natasha let go of his hand and made a move towards the kitchen.

  ‘Wait, not now. Let me look at you first.’ He reached for her and suddenly she felt light-headed, almost faint.

  Mother said, ‘Well, don’t just stand there. Natasha, why don’t you show the man in?’

  Natasha led Mark to the kitchen, with Mother following close.

  ‘How did you find us?’ asked Natasha.

  ‘I stayed at Mikhail’s last night. He told me where you were.’

  ‘Is Mikhail alright?’ asked Mother.

  ‘He’s fine. Told me to give you all his love.’

  ‘Oh, thank God. We were so worried. Why don’t you unpack? Your rucksack looks heavy,’ said Mother, taking his bag from him. ‘What do you have in there? Bricks?’

  ‘Maps, mostly,’ he said. His eyes were on Natasha, who was watching him, unable to speak.

  Mother nodded and said, ‘Well, I’d better go and tell the men to stay in the cellar until it’s dark. It’s not safe for them here.’ A moment later she was gone.

  Mark took Natasha in his arms again. ‘Come here,’ he whispered. ‘Look at you. You’re so beautiful. More beautiful even than I remembered,’ said Mark.

  Mother returned, carrying some bread and boiled potatoes on a piece of old newspaper.

  ‘I’m sorry we don’t have any plates,’ said Natasha. She laughed. Suddenly she felt so happy.

  Mother placed the food on the floor. ‘It’s not much but better than nothing. Would you like to wash? We can fetch water from the pump.’

  ‘Thank you, Zoya Alexeevna. Show me the pump and I’ll bring the water,’ said Mark.

  She looked at Mark. ‘Do you know what’s happening at the front? Where is the Red Army now?’

  ‘They are at the outskirts of Kiev, waiting to liberate us.’

  ‘I hope they don’t wait too long,’ said Mother. Finally noticing Natasha’s frantic face, she added, ‘I’m going, I’m going. I’ll go check on the tw—’ She caught Natasha’s eye just in time and stopped abruptly. Nodding to Mark, she left the kitchen, closing the door behind her.

  Instantly Natasha moved closer. ‘You’re so unshaven. I’ve never seen you like this, with a beard.’ She stroked it gently. It felt soft.

  ‘You like it?’

  ‘I do.’ She touched his cheek. ‘Mark, I never thought I would ever see you again,’ she murmured.

  ‘Neither did I. I never thought I would make it back to Kiev.’

  She sat up to better see his face. ‘What happened to you? Tell me everything.’ It was quiet in the kitchen. She could hear the birds outside.

  ‘On the day we were supposed to leave for Hungary, I was arrested.’

  ‘Lisa,’ she muttered with loathing.

  ‘You sister? What about her?’

  ‘She betrayed you to the Gestapo.’

  ‘Lisa did that? But why?’

  Natasha lowered her gaze, staring at the mud of their bare floors. She didn’t want Mark to see in her eyes what she still couldn’t fully admit to herself. As much as she tried, she couldn’t forgive her sister. ‘She thought going to Hungary would be a mistake. She didn’t want me to leave our whole family behind. Maybe she thought by punishing me she would make herself feel better. She was selfish and vindictive, and you paid for it.’

  ‘Did you say, was? Natasha, where is Lisa now?’

  ‘They transported her to Germany a year ago. We haven’t heard from her since. I wish she was still here. I don’t know why. I don’t know if I want to make up with her or kill her, but I want her here either way.’

  ‘She’s your only sister. You love her.’

  She wanted to tell Mark that despite everything that happened, she still missed Lisa. Sometimes, in the middle of the night, when she was too afraid to sleep, she would close her eyes and think of her sister. She thought of the seven-year-old Lisa riding a bicycle next to Natasha, of the ten-year-old Lisa playing with their dog Mishka in Taras Shevchenko Park, climbing trees and skating on the frozen lake.

  She didn’t have to say any of it. He knew. ‘Don’t worry. People come back from Germany all the time.
She will, too.’

  ‘I hope so, for Mama’s sake. I tried to help Lisa but I made it clear to her that she’ll never be a part of my life again.’

  ‘Don’t say that. I’m sure she regrets what she’s done. She’s been through a lot, just like the rest of us. This war has changed all of us.’

  Natasha knew he was right. She could barely remember herself before the war. But right now she could barely remember herself a month ago, a week ago. All she could see was his breathtaking face.

  ‘What about you? What has happened since I left? Where are your brother and grandfather?’

  Natasha shivered in Mark’s arms. She didn’t want to answer his questions. She didn’t want to tell him about Yuri. She wanted to pretend for a little while longer that it was just the two of them, just like before.

  ‘Oh, they’re in the cellar hiding. The German patrols…’

  ‘I see. Why aren’t you hiding too?’

  ‘The Nazis don’t care about the women. They’re after the men.’ Although the door to the kitchen was firmly shut, Natasha lowered her voice. ‘Wait. You haven’t told me anything yet. Why did they arrest you?’

  ‘They knew about my plan to take you out of the city. They arrested me on the day we were supposed to leave Kiev. I was interrogated. I denied everything of course, and they had no proof, but, as you know, the accusation is all that matters.’

  ‘You must have been so afraid.’ She entwined his fingers with hers, kissing them.

  ‘I was frantic. We were so close to freedom. I had no safe way to get in touch with you. I imagined you waiting in the cold for hours, thinking I had abandoned you.’

  ‘I did wait for you in the cold for hours,’ she said sadly. ‘I didn’t know what to think.’

  ‘That’s what I was afraid of. I wrote to you. Every day for months.’

  ‘Your letters wouldn’t have reached us.’

  ‘I know. That’s why I’ve never sent them.’

  Natasha thought of his disappearance, of long miserable days that turned into long miserable months. ‘The first week after you were gone was the hardest. I didn’t know if you were dead or alive.’ I didn’t know if I was dead or alive, either, she thought.