4.
Tony Aulman arrived with an ancient, wrinkly-faced Chinese lady. “It’s a nanny,” he said to the yawning commander of the guard. “She’ll help with the baby.”
Nina didn’t even want to hear about trusting her Katya to a stranger, but Aulman was adamant. “If you’re totally wrecked from not getting enough sleep, you’ll say nonsense to the investigators and you’ll be put in prison. Do what you’re told: have a rest.”
Nina forced herself to give the nanny her little girl. The visits from Aulman and Klim cheered her up a little. All these days she lived in a delirium; it seemed the whole world was against her.
“The most important is to reject everything,” Aulman told her when the nanny had left the room with the baby. “You didn’t know anything. Labuda didn’t tell you about his scams.”
Nina nodded slowly. She’d destroyed Jiří: killed him with her own hands. She’d even laughed at him a day before his death. “Why are you always trembling like a sheep?” she’d said to Jiří. “We’re a little consulate; no one gives a stuff about us.”
“Sooner or later the police will find us,” Jiří had said. He must have had second sight.
Thank God, Klim came, Nina thought. Let him think about me whatever he wants; the most important thing is that Katya won’t be alone, if something horrible happens.
“Our task is to transfer you from suspects to witnesses,” Aulman explained. “Did Lemoine come?”
Nina smiled faintly. “Of course not. Those sorts of people always dig themselves in the sand during a storm.”
Aulman promised to organize Jiří’s funeral. “
Tamara sends her best wishes and asks you to give her a call as soon as you’ll be allowed to use a phone,” he said. “She already thought up a plan to save your reputation: all the gossips of the French Concession are invited for dinner. Tamara is preparing a speech about a young mother, a victim of villains and circumstances.”
Nina shook her head. “Thank you…but it’s all my fault—I made this mess, I got everyone into it…” “
To clean up messes is my profession”, Aulman laughed. “And this matter is a piece of cake compared with what I was dealing with today. Ten years ago, my clients, two wealthy Chinese families, decided to marry their children. The kids grew up and said that they didn’t want to live together. Now, they both have to return all the gifts—all fifteen thousand dollars of them. You know what amazed me the most? The bride’s parents gave their future son-in-law a real throne! No kidding— made of ebony!”
5.
Despite Aulman’s efforts, Nina wasn’t released from house arrest. But she was allowed to see guests.
Klim came and brought Father Seraphim and the future god-parents, Ada and Mitya.
“I haven’t found anyone else,” Klim said to Nina. “Don’t pay attention to Mitya’s shaved head, he is an Orthodox Christian—just a little enthusiastic about eastern…hmm…philosophy.”
Father Seraphim didn’t approve of his choice. “He’s a heretic. A renegade.”
“Mitya, have you been baptized?” Klim asked, looking very serious.
“Yes.”
“Do you believe in God?”
“Yes, I do. In all of them.”
“There you go.”
Father Seraphim decided not to argue. He had received joyous news: Lenin was dead. But the good news was tempered with bad: Great Britain had officially recognized the USSR.
“What’s happening in this world?” he asked, taking a cross and epitrachil scarf out of the bag. “The Bolsheviks will scatter soon, like a herd with no pastor, and those English lords are licking their feet.”
Ada looked at Klim with wide eyes. How had this happened? He’s had a daughter just born and a wife who is under investigation by the police…
“Why didn’t you move to hers?” she asked Klim in whisper. “You have a baby…but your wife lives here, in the mansion, and you—in the House of Hope.”
“I’m not good enough,” Klim answered, smiling. “It would’ve been nice to be in paradise, but my many sins don’t let me.”
6.
Father Seraphim sang, “God’s servant is being baptized.” Nina kept glancing at Klim’s solemn face. He didn’t leave me, despite everything. He came to help in my most difficult time.
Klim was ready to love and protect Katya. Nina watched him, feeling strange that her daughter didn’t belong only to her. But it was good for the baby to have one more dear soul in this world to look after her.
When Katya was dipped into holy water, she didn’t even squeak, only watched people around her with a baffled look. They dried her and dressed her in a beautiful robe.
“Well, my congratulations,” said Father Seraphim. “Let her grow obedient.”
“Hmm, thank you,” grumped Nina and added quietly so the Father couldn’t hear her, “She’ll be an independent girl, with a will of steel. And when she grows up, she’ll be earning money so will never have to depend on anyone.”
Klim whispered in Nina’s ear, “And I’ll teach her to never work just for money.”
Nina looked at him angrily. “What else should one work for then?”
“For pleasure. If you spent your time on something that doesn’t bring you joy, you’ve wasted it with no purpose. No number of millions can change that.”
They almost had another fight in front of everyone, but Klim magnanimously acknowledged he was wrong.
“You’re despotic like King Herod,” he said in farewell. “If you at least had a will of rubber, not of steel, I’d have come back to you. But as it stands—no.”
It was late at night when Katya woke up, hungry. Nina took her in her hands.
Her daughter had a golden lock over her little forehead, pink cheeks and warm palms—such a treasure in a half-ravaged house. As Nina rocked Katya gently, she thought about her first unborn child—she had miscarried the day she heard of Count Odintsov’s death.
She tried to brush aside such dark thoughts, but they were overpowering, cornering her. Every day there was news in the papers: somebody had beaten their children to death, kidnapped or abandoned them. The Chinese women were having a baby a year; and the little ones just keep dying—from hunger, from disease, from dirty water.
What if my daughter— Nina closed her eyes tight. Oh no, God, no! She crossed Katya with a trembling hand.
And again she thought, Thank God, Klim came. She was so ashamed she’d treated him so badly. In the end, whether he’d understood her actions or just forgiven her, didn’t matter—he’d still come back.
Katya fell asleep. What were all her mother’s thoughts to her? The little girl could only trust now. She’ll learn to fear later.
7.
Every day after work, Klim went to Nina. He carried Katya around the house, showing her interesting things: ceiling fans, door knobs and badges on policemen’s caps. He explained to her that these men were awarded for their good service and sent to decent houses like her mother’s. What did they see at their police office? An on-duty’s face and a Wanted Criminals board. Here, at least, they could relax on soft chairs.
Every day, Nina was called on by an interrogation officer; then she would come back, feed Katya and tell Klim about the progress of the case, “They can’t prove anything. The judge promised Aulman I’ll be freed from house arrest in a couple of days.”
Behind the window, fireworks exploded: the Chinese were celebrating their New Year. The sparkles flashed in Nina’s eyes and disappeared. It was time for Klim to say good bye, kiss Katya and leave.
Ada was waiting for him. “Lissie is not happy with you,” she said grouchily. “You put a Simmons Brothers ad next to an article called Brothers Are Ready to Shoot Each Other. She says she’ll fire you.”
Klim didn’t make any excuses. He washed his face and went to bed, wrapping himself in a blanket. When he closed his eyes he still saw Nina’s face.
If it’ll be easier for you, imagine that I’m not with you, but goin
g the same way. It’s also a reason to stay together.
CHAPTER 33
HIT AND RUN
1.
Klim had promised to gather some material on skating in Shanghai, but forgot.
“What are you thinking about?” Lissie yelled at him. Klim shrugged.
Yesterday, he’d bought a pram for Katya, a wicker one with a pink silk lining. Nina had been very excited. “Now, she’ll go for lots of walks!”
“Listen, Klim, I don’t recognize you at all!” Lissie was fuming. “Maybe you’re not well? Or you have some private matters?”
Klim looked above her shoulder out the window. It was raining: the pavements were glistening; the glass door of a flower shop opposite their office was covered in tiny drops with red carnations showing through.
“I don’t need such a worker!” Lissie screamed. “Get out of here!”
Klim silently put on his coat, pulled his scarf around his neck and went outside.
“Didn’t even say sorry,” he heard Lissie’s indignant comment as he left.
Klim left by a tram stuffed with soaked passengers. At the corner of Bubbling Well Road, he jumped off the footboard while the tram car was still moving and dashed rapidly along the street. Big drops were bouncing off bare tree branches, splashing on his hat.
At the crossing, he saw a large crowd gathered. Little boys climbed street lamps and called to each other, “Oh! Wow! Seen that?”
There were long black streaks from car tires over the asphalt; on a wet lawn lay a broken wicker pram with a bloody spot on its pink silk.
A police officer in a rain coat cut through the crowd, shouting, “Are there any witnesses?”
“We all are!” someone answered. “They were hit by a red Buick, the one Robert Wayer drives. Wayer didn’t even stop. The nanny and the baby were killed instantly.”
2.
Lissie entered her house. Strangely, the front door was unlocked. She put her wet umbrella against the wall; it fell down, drawing a dark semicircle on the wallpaper.
“Hello!”
The house was quiet as death.
“Hello!” Lissie repeated impatiently. “Anybody home?”
She heard the steps—it was Hobu. Her face was distorted. “Oh Missy…what a misfortune!”
Lissie’s heart was squeezed with bad premonition. “Something with Brittany?”
“No, no! It’s Master Robert. … Such a tragedy! He killed a woman and a little baby.”
Everything went dark before Lissie’s eyes. A lamenting wail was heard from upstairs, “O-o-oh…”
“Master Robert came home and just fell right here on the carpet,” wept Hobu. “I never saw him like that, Miss Lissie! He was saying, ‘I drove into them! I should die!’”
“Where’s Brittany?” whispered Lissie.
“She’s upstairs, with Ada. Your little daughter has had a fever since this morning. We called a doctor.”
“Brittany…she shouldn’t know…”
Lissie slowly pulled off her gloves. From the dark doorway she heard again, “O-o-oh…”
“Let him shut up. … I’ll tell him to shut up…”
She started to go upstairs, Hobu stomping behind.
“I sent Shao to Master Hugh and Miss Edna. I think they’ll come soon.”
“O-o-oh…”
The world was bursting to pieces, like an apple shot through with a bullet. What to do now? Lissie thought in despair. Robert killed a woman with a child. … He was probably drunk, scumbag!
“The Chinese don’t know how to cross the road,” Hobu said. “A lot of village people come to a big city and they have never seen a car before. They cannot—”
Lissie squeezed her hand, “Be quiet.”
3.
Robert had locked himself in. He didn’t answer calls or the knocking at his door, but he did stop wailing.
“He’s probably completely drunk,” Shao said. He’d brought him a bottle of whiskey earlier.
Lissie held her hand up towards the butler. “Get out of here, idiot!” The father-in-law and Lissie’s sister had arrived. Edna was running around the room. “Maybe Robert was mistaken? Maybe they survived?” She rushed to the phone to call her office, then returned and fell into the armchair, exhausted. “It’s all in the papers…there were a dozen witnesses.”
Hugh’s fingers tapped on a wooden armrest, barely audible.
“What’s my husband to face now?” asked Lissie. “You’re a policeman, you should know.”
Hugh was silent for a while, moving his lips. Lissie noticed the pulsating vein under his drooping lower eyelid.
“According to Chinese law, for drink-driving he would be liable for a fine from five to ten dollars. The American court would make him pay fifty dollars with six months imprisonment...but this is only if the incident with the pedestrian is not proved. The British court—”
“What are you talking about?” screamed Lissie. “People saw Robert drive into the woman and the baby! His car cannot be mistaken for anyone else’s.”
“That’s what I’m saying: he won’t get away with just a fine. Who were the victims?”
“A Chinese nanny and a white child,” said Edna.
“Well…the parents will eat us alive. Of course, we can work with them, but you and Robert should leave until everything settles.”
“What do you mean?” gasped Lissie. “I cannot leave. I have my magazine!”
“Forget your damn magazine!” roared Hugh. “You need to disappear for a year. And I’ll make sure that this story is forgotten.”
Edna started to run around again. “Then you should go immediately. I’ll find out when the steamer is leaving.”
“But Brittany is sick, she can’t go,” said Lissie in a weak voice.
“Leave her and the governess with me.”
“O-o-oh…” they heard from Robert’s room.
Lissie folded her arms on her chest. “Let Robert go by himself. I’ll stay.”
Edna shook her head. “Then every reporter will harass you with Where did your husband the killer go? Was it you who helped him avoid punishment? How does it feel to be a wife of a murd…”
“Stop it!” begged Lissie.
“Get ready!” said Hugh, raising his voice. “Tell Shao to pack your clothes. I’ll take you to the port myself.”
4.
Nina was beside herself, searching for those responsible. Aulman sent a stupid nanny who didn’t know how to cross the road; Klim brought the pram and she herself let Katya go for a walk.
“I’ll kill Wayer!” she screamed, trying to force her way out of the house, but the guards kept her inside. Like a coward, Wayer had immediately disappeared from the city.
Klim was numb: his muscles, his thoughts—everything frozen in large salt crystals. He did something, said something, then forced himself to bed and switched off his mind.
A day later, the judge revoked the house arrest so that Nina could arrange the funeral of her baby. From the cemetery, Klim took her to the House of Hope—at her own place, there were too many curious and sympathetic people.
She went upstairs and sat on a chair. Ada poured her some tea and started to say something about her mother, but no one was listening and Ada fell silent. Klim sat with the back of his head against a cold wall.
Unnoticed by anyone, Mitya stood and left without a word.
Klim felt he should be doing something—hugging Nina and promising her something. But he was too exhausted. He breathed in air and breathed out hatred to mankind.
“I always thought Mr. Wayer was a coward,” Ada said. “It makes sense: he doesn’t care at all about Brittany’s upbringing. … Oh, what’s that on your breast?” she asked Nina, noticing two wet spots spreading on her black dress.
Nina looked at her blankly. “This is milk for my daughter.”
Hearing this, Klim felt crushed inside. It would have been better if Nina had just wept.
Evening fell, the room became dark, and Ada lit the lamp. “If
you want, I could go and get some food?” She needed an excuse to keep herself busy.
A door slammed downstairs, stairs squeaked, and a child’s cry was heard. Nina and Klim shuddered simultaneously. The hatch flew open.
“Here, it’s for you,” Mitya puffed. In his hands was a dirty bundle— it was alive and loud.
“What is it?” Nina asked, frightened.
“Your daughter’s soul changed its body. I asked the gods to send me a sign. I went to the temple and there she was, screaming. Somebody had thrown her away, especially for you.”
“What are you talking about?” roared Klim.
Prostitutes and beggar women often throw unwanted children on the streets in the hope that someone will pick them up. And if not—who cares? How long can a newborn last? An hour, maybe two. Then straight back to the sky.
Not listening to Klim, Mitya put the baby on the floor and unwrapped the cloth. “She’s all wet. Ada, give me something to change her into. What a screamer! Probably hungry.”
Terrified, Nina looked at the dark, big-headed creature, wriggling on the floor. It had red ears, eyes like little creases and a black mane of hair.
“Take it away!” she screamed.
Mitya came to her, squatted down and looked into Nina’s eyes. “Death is natural,” he said quietly. “Everyone is mortal. If you have no one to love, love this girl. What’s the difference?”
“Oh, what a dumbhead!” Ada exclaimed.
“Nina, I cannot take the baby back,” said Mitya. “In China, it’s like this: if you save someone’s soul, you have to take care of it until its death. I don’t have breast milk, but you do; your breasts ache from it. Let my child eat and you will both be happier.”
“She’s probably lice-ridden,” Nina sobbed, taking the girl in her hands.
“There you go, now you’re also caring for her,” said Mitya, smiling.
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