been. Biting her lip, she nodded a response to his “Hello”.
“You’re like two cats!” Sonya said suddenly.
“Go and play with your cat,” said Viktor.
“She’s out.”
“Well, go anyway.”
She went, leaving the door wide open. Viktor pulled it to.
“How is it?” he asked, finally breaking the silence.
“ ‘How is it?’ ” she repeated tearfully. Everything I’ve got together, all my happiness, destroyed in 30 minutes, trampled on!”
“Whatever do you mean?”
“Don’t pretend! You organized it. I know. People warned me, but like a fool I didn’t believe them.”
The cord fastening her dressing gown emphasized that she had put on weight. He had no wish to argue or talk, and seeing him suddenly sad and distant, Nina fell silent.
“No, I’m sorry … I shouldn’t have said that,” she said after a while. “But I was so frightened when they came yesterday. And as I said then, I accept – there’s nothing here I lay claim to or want.”
“All right, but could you make some tea.”
Nina went off to the kitchen, and he looked down from the window at the wasteland with its rubbish collection point and dovecotes.Way over on the left he could just see a bit of the fence of the kindergarten where, as a little boy, he had buried his first hamster. It was cold. It would be another month before the heating came on and made its way laboriously up to the 4th floor. The door opened. He turned.
“Tea’s ready, Auntie Nina says.”
The kitchen, thank God, was unchanged, almost.
“Where’s Sergey?”
“Who?”
He nodded to where the urn with the ashes of his militiaman friend had stood.
“On the balcony. It was in the way.”
“Bring it back.”
She brought it in, wiped it clean with a dishcloth, placed it on the windowsill near the stove, then sat on the little stool once reserved for Misha’s food bowl.
“You should go through the flat, and anything of Kolya’s put into a bag,” Viktor said. “If it’s wrapped, leave it wrapped – it might be dangerous.”
“Oh, God,” she whispered. “I’d no idea.”
“Sonya will help – won’t you, Sonya?”
“Of course I will.”
“How about money?”
“Not a lot left,” said Nina nervously. “What with decorating, buying furniture, and the dacha …”
“Dacha?”
“At Osokorki on the Dnieper. You’ll like it.”
He said nothing, got up, and in so doing kicked against something made of glass. Looking under the table, he saw any number of empty champagne and vodka bottles.
“Get rid of them,” he snapped, making for the door. “I’ll ringthis evening.”
Before joining Pasha, he collected his bag from Old Tonya’s.
“Your tenant got carted off by the militia,” she said. “What had he been up to?”
“Militia? In uniform?”
“The special sort of militia. He was just on his way in when they swooped. They had him down flat on his face like on TV.”
“You saw the whole thing?”
“Not much I miss living up here right opposite. They’d turned up in two cars an hour earlier and waited. You could tell something was up.”
18
The evening was spent discussing Viktor’s plan with the image makers. Slava took to the whole thing immediately, but Zhora kept spinning things out, either because his professional pride was hurt at the idea’s not being his, or because something else was bothering him. But Andrey Pavlovich stood firm as a rock, and rather than risk overdoing it, Zhora finally capitulated, then proceeded to explain to Slava that morphing and printing would take longer than he thought. Andrey Pavlovich and Viktor could see his game, but kept their thoughts to themselves until, at nearly midnight, Zhora and the twins set off by taxi for a night club, leaving bespectacled Slava to strain his eyes further.
“Can you do it by morning?” Andrey Pavlovich asked, looking closely at the familiar portrait now scanned to screen.
“I can try,” he said dully.
“By, say, four or five?”
“You’re like two cats!” Sonya said suddenly.
“Go and play with your cat,” said Viktor.
“She’s out.”
“Well, go anyway.”
She went, leaving the door wide open. Viktor pulled it to.
“How is it?” he asked, finally breaking the silence.
“ ‘How is it?’ ” she repeated tearfully. Everything I’ve got together, all my happiness, destroyed in 30 minutes, trampled on!”
“Whatever do you mean?”
“Don’t pretend! You organized it. I know. People warned me, but like a fool I didn’t believe them.”
The cord fastening her dressing gown emphasized that she had put on weight. He had no wish to argue or talk, and seeing him suddenly sad and distant, Nina fell silent.
“No, I’m sorry … I shouldn’t have said that,” she said after a while. “But I was so frightened when they came yesterday. And as I said then, I accept – there’s nothing here I lay claim to or want.”
“All right, but could you make some tea.”
Nina went off to the kitchen, and he looked down from the window at the wasteland with its rubbish collection point and dovecotes.Way over on the left he could just see a bit of the fence of the kindergarten where, as a little boy, he had buried his first hamster. It was cold. It would be another month before the heating came on and made its way laboriously up to the 4th floor. The door opened. He turned.
“Tea’s ready, Auntie Nina says.”
The kitchen, thank God, was unchanged, almost.
“Where’s Sergey?”
“Who?”
He nodded to where the urn with the ashes of his militiaman friend had stood.
“On the balcony. It was in the way.”
“Bring it back.”
She brought it in, wiped it clean with a dishcloth, placed it on the windowsill near the stove, then sat on the little stool once reserved for Misha’s food bowl.
“You should go through the flat, and anything of Kolya’s put into a bag,” Viktor said. “If it’s wrapped, leave it wrapped – it might be dangerous.”
“Oh, God,” she whispered. “I’d no idea.”
“Sonya will help – won’t you, Sonya?”
“Of course I will.”
“How about money?”
“Not a lot left,” said Nina nervously. “What with decorating, buying furniture, and the dacha …”
“Dacha?”
“At Osokorki on the Dnieper. You’ll like it.”
He said nothing, got up, and in so doing kicked against something made of glass. Looking under the table, he saw any number of empty champagne and vodka bottles.
“Get rid of them,” he snapped, making for the door. “I’ll ringthis evening.”
Before joining Pasha, he collected his bag from Old Tonya’s.
“Your tenant got carted off by the militia,” she said. “What had he been up to?”
“Militia? In uniform?”
“The special sort of militia. He was just on his way in when they swooped. They had him down flat on his face like on TV.”
“You saw the whole thing?”
“Not much I miss living up here right opposite. They’d turned up in two cars an hour earlier and waited. You could tell something was up.”
18
The evening was spent discussing Viktor’s plan with the image makers. Slava took to the whole thing immediately, but Zhora kept spinning things out, either because his professional pride was hurt at the idea’s not being his, or because something else was bothering him. But Andrey Pavlovich stood firm as a rock, and rather than risk overdoing it, Zhora finally capitulated, then proceeded to explain to Slava that morphing and printing would take longer than he thought. Andrey Pavlovich and Viktor could see his game, but kept their thoughts to themselves until, at nearly midnight, Zhora and the twins set off by taxi for a night club, leaving bespectacled Slava to strain his eyes further.
“Can you do it by morning?” Andrey Pavlovich asked, looking closely at the familiar portrait now scanned to screen.
“I can try,” he said dully.
“By, say, four or five?”
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