The Story of Us

by Lana Kortchik

  ‘I’m so sorry, Natasha. Do you hear me? I’m sorry.’

  ‘There was nothing you could have done. Where are these letters now? I’d like to read them.’

  ‘I lost them near Stalingrad. Our military truck blew up. Fortunately, I wasn’t on it at the time. Others weren’t so lucky.’

  ‘Stalingrad?’

  ‘Three days after I was arrested, the Gestapo put me on the train bound for the front. Me and two hundred other unfortunates. Stalingrad was… What can I say? It was hell on earth.’

  After a moment of silence, she whispered, ‘Oh my God, Mark.’ She remembered what her grandfather had said about Stalingrad. She believed the word he had used was a massacre. From what she’d read in the newspaper and judging by the number of wounded German soldiers who had arrived from the front, she knew her grandfather was right. She touched Mark’s hand as if to make sure that it was truly him next to her. That he was real and alive.

  Mark continued, ‘The Germans issued our unit with an obsolete howitzer and corroded shells. We were in a snow-bound village ten kilometres from the Don, with the Red Army across the river. Our rifles were useless. It didn’t matter. None of us wanted to fight the Soviets anyway.’

  ‘So what did you do?’

  ‘We were talking of surrendering, changing sides, fighting the Nazis. But all I wanted was to get back to you.’

  He fell silent. The colour had left his cheeks and his face looked grim. He was no longer looking at Natasha. And Natasha desperately wanted him to look at her. Touching his face, she asked, ‘What happened next?’

  ‘Soon we stopped receiving news from the headquarters. Our radio was mute for over a week. A couple of days later, we found out that our headquarters had been destroyed. We were surrounded by the Soviets.’

  ‘Oh my God, Mark,’ she whispered, horrified. ‘How did you cope?’

  ‘Everywhere around us there were dead horses, tanks buried up to their turrets in snowdrifts, soldiers dead and frozen. After a couple of weeks I joined a column of men walking west. I was determined to get back to you. But I didn’t get very far before I was captured.’

  ‘By the Soviets?’ In all her days of not knowing what had happened to him, she had never come close to imagining what he was describing now.

  ‘I was given a choice. A hard labour camp in Siberia or to join one of the Soviet penal battalions and fight the Nazis.’

  She watched him with adoration. ‘So you joined the penal battalion?’

  ‘Gladly.’

  She kissed his hand, placing it on her heart.

  He continued, ‘Finally I could live with a clear conscience. But it didn’t last. As you can imagine, Stalin used us as cannon fodder for the Germans. Our battalion was destroyed within a few weeks. I was one of the few who survived.’

  Natasha crossed herself and whispered, ‘God was protecting you.’ Tears were running down her face onto his bare arms.

  ‘I had to survive. I had no choice. I had to see you again.’ He smiled and she tried to smile back but couldn’t. He continued, ‘I had no money, no documents, no maps. But I slowly made my way back to Kiev.’

  ‘How did you get back?’

  He was staring past her face into the darkness, his eyes unfocused. Her heart racing, she waited impatiently for him to tell her the rest. He shuddered and said, ‘It’s taken me over eight months to return. Through it all, only one thing kept me going. Kept me alive. You.’ He pressed his lips to her quivering fingers. ‘Sometimes in the middle of the night I would lie in the snow, freezing cold and unable to sleep, look up at the stars and think of you. I’d think of you looking at the same stars, waiting for me.’

  ‘I did wait for you. Every day. I can’t fathom everything you had to go through to come back to me.’

  ‘How could I not come back? Can’t you see? Nothing could keep me away.’

  ‘I love you, Mark.’ Finally saying it out loud made her chest hurt a little less. ‘You are my life. And you don’t know the half of it.’ She smiled, anticipating Mark’s reaction when he found out about the twins.

  ‘Why are you smiling?’

  ‘I’ll show you in a minute. Can you wait here?’ Kissing his bewildered eyes, she got up and, unstable on her feet, walked to the living room. ‘Mama, where are the children?’

  Together Mother and Natasha carried Costa and Larisa to meet their father. Mark’s eyes widened. Natasha couldn’t help it, she laughed. He reached for Costa. The boy babbled happily, grabbing Mark’s fingers and trying to bite them. ‘Are they yours?’ he asked.

  She waited for Mother to leave the kitchen. ‘There’s something I need to tell you.’ She took a deep breath, wondering what to say. How to say it. How to explain how things had been. How to explain Yuri. She needed to be the one to tell him. If only she could find the right words.

  She was about to speak when they heard loud voices. The men were returning from their hiding place in the cellar. Grandfather was the first to walk in. ‘Natasha, talk some sense into your husband. He completely cleared me out. I have no money left.’

  Mark stood up.

  ‘I guess I’m lucky in cards.’ Yuri followed Grandfather into the kitchen, grinning from ear to ear.

  Nikolai peered in and said, ‘That’s why I don’t play anymore. I’d rather be lucky in love.’ Seeing Mark, he fell quiet.

  Natasha couldn’t bear the look on Mark’s face. She muttered, ‘I was just about to explain—’

  ‘No need to explain. I’m glad you are well and…’ he hesitated. ‘And happy. I’m very pleased for you. I was worried about you and your family, and I’m relieved to see that you are doing fine.’ He sounded so calm, so collected. His coldness was like a sharp razor blade on Natasha’s heart. Even if she knew it was an act. His pale face and trembling hands gave him away. ‘Anyway, I have to go. I wish you all the best. Tell your mother I said thank you for everything and goodbye.’ And just like that, he walked out of the kitchen. Natasha heard the front door close softly.

  ‘Mark, wait,’ cried Natasha. But it was too late. He couldn’t have possibly heard her.

  After a moment of tense silence, Grandfather asked, ‘Who was that?’

  Natasha didn’t reply.

  Nikolai said, ‘That was Mark.’

  Natasha wasn’t looking at Yuri but even she noticed the sudden change. It was as if something had shattered inside him.

  Pushing her brother out of the way, she ran after Mark.

  *

  Natasha paused on the busy street, hoping to see Mark in the crowd of lost, ghost-like figures. The cold September air numbed her bare skin. It would have been completely dark if it wasn’t for the fires raging on the outskirts of Kiev. Natasha could almost sense the inferno closing in on them. She could smell the putrid smoke. Pushing her way through women and children, she looked for him. She glanced into every garden, every side street, every alley. She shouted his name, not caring if it attracted the attention of the Germans strolling on the opposite side of the road.

  As hard as she tried, she couldn’t find him.

  What if he never came back? Or worse, what if a Nazi patrol took him away? To have him return, only to lose him again – Natasha couldn’t take it. To dream of him for two years, through hunger and desperation, and finally to see him again but only for a moment. But he came back for her! Nothing had stopped him, not the distance, nor the Soviets, nor the Germans. He had overcome it all to be with her. And now that she knew he was alive, now that she knew he loved her, she would overcome everything to be with him.

  Natasha walked faster.

  After two hours of frantic searching, when her throat was sore and her feet frozen, she thought she heard someone call her name. She turned around eagerly, hoping it was Mark.

  It wasn’t.

  ‘Natasha, wait,’ cried Yuri.

  She slowed down but didn’t stop.

  ‘You need to come home.’

  ‘I can’t. Not yet.’

  He grabbed her by the
arm. ‘It’s late. And dangerous.’

  ‘I know. Which is exactly why I need to find him.’

  Yuri shook his head. ‘He could be anywhere right now. If he doesn’t want to be found, I doubt you’ll find him. There’s no point.’

  No point? What was he talking about? She squared her shoulders. ‘I’m not going anywhere without him.’

  Yuri tightened his grip around her wrist. ‘Come home this instant. Haven’t you seen the Germans walking up and down the street looking for their next victim? Do you want it to be you?’

  ‘What are you, my mother?’ Natasha tried to free herself but couldn’t. He was too strong.

  ‘No, I’m not. I wish I could say that I’m your husband but you made it clear that…’ He didn’t finish his sentence but his disapproving eyes spoke volumes.

  The air felt stifling, almost suffocating. Natasha didn’t know what to say.

  Yuri muttered, ‘Sometimes I wish I’d never met you.’

  She recoiled from him. He let go of her arm. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. Dozens of Soviets walked past, as if in a rush to get away from something. Eagerly she peered into every face but none of them was Mark.

  ‘Don’t be. I can’t say I’m surprised. To still hold any illusions about our marriage after all these months, I would have to be stupid or blind. I was blinded by my feelings for you for a very long time. I kept hoping…’ He shook his head. ‘How stupid of me, how naïve.’

  They stood in silence, while the passers-by hurried fearfully past.

  When he finally spoke, his voice was steady. ‘You can stay out here on the street if you like but I’m not leaving your side.’

  ‘I’ll be fine on my own.’

  ‘If anything happens to you, I’ll never forgive myself.’

  ‘Go home, Yuri. I’ll be back soon.’

  A plane roared overhead as Yuri pulled her in the direction of the house. ‘Your Mama’s worried sick. You can look for him tomorrow.’ His face twisted when he said that. Sad and discouraged, she followed Yuri.

  Home, in the room where she had been so happy what seemed like moments ago, she found Mark’s rucksack. For a long time she sat on the floor, clutching it, watching the candle.

  ‘Eat something,’ said Mother.

  Natasha shook her head.

  ‘At least he’s still alive. That’s something, isn’t it?’ When Natasha didn’t reply, Mother added, ‘Don’t worry. He’ll be back in the morning.’

  ‘What makes you think that?’

  Mother pointed at the rucksack. ‘His things are still here.’

  ‘What was all that about?’ asked Nikolai, appearing in the doorway.

  Natasha turned away from him. The last thing she wanted was to talk.

  ‘Leave your sister alone,’ said Mother. ‘She needs rest.’ To Natasha, she said, ‘Try to get some sleep.’

  That was easier said than done. Natasha closed her eyes but sleep wouldn’t come. She only moved when Costa and Larisa’s voices rose in a unified scream for attention. Like a ghost that moved in a slow motion, she picked them up and fed them, rocking them. Finally, the babies fell asleep. When morning dawned, Natasha was still on the floor, holding Mark’s rucksack, staring into space.

  *

  With her eyes firmly shut, Natasha listened as the family awoke, had breakfast, and discussed the German retreat. She listened to the men as they descended to the cellar. Her eyelids were heavy. She needed food and sleep. But sleep most of all.

  Mother walked into the room. ‘Look who I found,’ she said.

  Natasha raised her eyes. Mark stood in front of her. All thoughts of sleep forgotten, she leapt up. ‘Where have you been?’

  ‘I’ll leave you two to talk,’ said Mother. ‘I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me, feeding the twins.’

  When the door closed behind her, Mark said, ‘Can I have my things, please?’ He sounded so cold, Natasha shivered.

  ‘Is that why you came back?’

  ‘I won’t get very far without my maps.’

  Her heart beat faster. ‘Where are you going?’

  He didn’t reply. For a very long time they were silent. She took his hand in hers. He didn’t pull back. ‘Please, don’t go. We need to talk.’

  ‘What’s there to talk about?’

  ‘Please, Mark. You don’t have to go just yet, do you? Have you eaten anything since yesterday? Where did you spend the night?’

  She wanted to touch his face but didn’t dare. His eyes were like two daggers keeping her at a distance. Two sharp, furious daggers. ‘You want to talk, then let’s talk.’ He moved away from her. ‘Why don’t you start by telling me about your marriage?’

  ‘Please, Mark. Don’t be angry.’

  ‘You said you waited for me.’

  ‘And I did. I waited for you…’

  He interrupted. ‘How long? Two months? Six? How long did it take?’

  ‘It’s not what you think.’

  ‘I come back to find you married to someone else. What do you expect me to think?’ He raised his head and looked straight at her. Natasha felt so small under his glare, she felt her whole body shudder. ‘You should have told me.’

  ‘I tried. I was just about to.’

  ‘It should have been the first thing that came out of your mouth. I’m so glad you’re alive, you should have said, and by the way, I’m married now. I have a family now. It would have been easier coming from you.’ He shook his head, turning not just his face but his whole body away from her. ‘No, that’s a lie. It wouldn’t have been easier. But it would have been fair.’

  ‘You have no idea what it’s been like here.’

  ‘You’re right. I only know what it’s been like there, when all I could do was pray that the next shell wouldn’t hit me, so I could come back to you.’

  She clasped her fists, trying to stop herself from crying. She wouldn’t cry, not now. Not while he watched her as if he didn’t know her. As if she was a stranger.

  ‘You should have told me,’ he repeated.

  ‘Please, don’t do that,’ she whispered.

  ‘Do what?’

  ‘Make me feel like I’ve done something wrong. I only did what I had to survive.’

  ‘I can see you did your very best.’

  ‘You’re judging me?’ Her voice cracked. It was too loud for the small room, too loud for the two of them. ‘Who are you to judge me? I did nothing wrong. Not once have I lied to you. Unlike you.’ She whispered the last two words.

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘Your letter. Rather, your mother’s letter.’ She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Where was her courage when she needed it the most? ‘Who is Julia?’

  At the mention of Julia his face changed, his incomprehension morphing into slow realisation. It wasn’t what she wanted to see. He reached for her and she turned away. ‘You said you told your mother about us. You lied. You said you wanted to marry me. And all that time you were engaged to someone else.’ She reached into her pocket. Crumpling the letter in her fist, she threw it in his face. ‘Here, take it. I’ve been carrying it with me long enough. Almost two years. How dare you say I didn’t wait for you?’ If she had the energy, she would have pushed him. She was horrified at herself. There was nothing scarier than her own anger at the man she loved more than life itself.

  He unfolded the letter. By the look on his face she knew he recognised it. She waited.

  When he spoke, his voice was calm. ‘A week after I met you, I wrote to my mother and told her about you. I don’t know if she ever received my letters.’

  ‘Oh,’ whispered Natasha. She couldn’t think of anything else to say. Her anger was gone and suddenly all she wanted to do was cry. ‘I can’t believe we’re fighting. I can’t believe you’re back and we’re fighting.’ She trembled.

  ‘I know.’ He made a move to take her hand, then changed his mind and simply moved closer. ‘Are you cold?’ he asked. She shook her head. ‘Look at you. You’re shivering
. Here, wear this.’ He took off his jumper, draping it around her.

  ‘Thank you. But now you’re cold.’

  ‘I survived the Stalingrad winter. Kiev in September is nothing.’ He smiled. She smiled tentatively back. ‘Julia and I grew up together. She’s like a sister to me. Our families always assumed we would get married. Julia and I just went along with it.’

  ‘And are you going to?’

  ‘Going to what? Marry her? After everything that has happened? What do you think?’

  ‘I don’t know, Mark. I don’t know what to think. Does Julia still think you’re getting married? She’s bought a dress.’ The accusatory tone crept back into her voice and at that particular moment, Natasha didn’t like herself very much. She didn’t like herself for feeling like this, for doubting him. For not being able to hide her doubt.

  ‘I wrote to Julia and told her I couldn’t marry her. A week after I met you.’

  She looked up into his face, no longer crying.

  ‘I knew for a long time that marrying Julia was a big mistake. Neither of us is in love with the other. I was just waiting for the right moment to tell her.’

  ‘Poor Julia. She must have been devastated.’

  ‘She’ll be fine. I’m sure she feels the same way.’

  Natasha put her arms around him, pulling him close. ‘And here I was, thinking you’d left me in Kiev so you could go back to Hungary and marry your Julia.’

  ‘My God, Natasha. How could I marry anyone but you? I love you so much. What are you even thinking?’

  ‘How was I supposed to know that?’

  ‘Didn’t I tell you often enough?’

  ‘Yes but…’ Even in his jumper, she shivered. ‘When you didn’t come for me that day, I was so scared. The next day I went to your barracks. That’s where I found the letter. I don’t even remember how I made it back home. I didn’t get up for weeks.’ Tears ran down her cheeks. ‘Everyone thought I was dying. For a while so did I.’

  ‘I’m so sorry. You didn’t deserve any of this.’ He held her and she clung to him, sobbing, struggling for breath. When she finally fell quiet, he asked, ‘Is that why you married him? Because you thought I’d chosen someone else over you?’