‘And then, there I was in Germany.’
‘You must have been so lost,’ Elina said, her voice
sounding wounded.
‘I don’t remember anymore. I wasn’t allowed to feel anything. And then I meet Henry.’ Julia smiled, and turned to her husband. ‘We had known each other back in Ukraine... in the same circles,’
‘Never in the same circles,’ he interrupted, turning to Iliya, using his hands to measure the degree of importance. He immediately regretted his tone when he saw her wilt. ‘Well, we knew of each other, anyway.’
Iliya nodded. Julia waited for her turn to speak, but then it was Henry that continued the story for her.
‘We had Slava, and then we knew that Neumarkt wasn’t the place for us to raise a family, so we—well, I—decided to leave for Australia. So, here we are.’ He stubbed out his cigarette, the bitterness of the coffee smell mixing with the burning embers.
Iliya stared unflinchingly at Julia, his eyes bright in the glow of the lamplight, and she caught his eye, connecting only for a second, then turned back to examine a gouge in the wooden table underneath her fingers. She kept picking at the wound in the wood, scraping her nail into it, grateful for the distraction. Elina blushed and cleared her throat awkwardly.
‘Hmm.’ Iliya drummed his fingers lightly on the table. ‘What a story.’ He turned to Henry. ‘And you, a traitor, eh?’
Henry flinched. ‘That better be a joke. I earned my way out of that hell. I didn’t kill anyone.’
Iliya waved a hand dismissively. ‘Hey, hey, calm down. I was just teasing. We all had to do what we needed to survive. Life brings too many complications to be rational.’
He turned to Julia, observing her as if he was examining her, trying to figure out what to do with her, or what to say, or what she was thinking about the evening in its entirety. She wasn’t sure if it was out of pity or curiosity but either way it made the side of her face burn without even lifting her head up. ‘A toast!’, he suddenly said.
Henry raised his glass. ‘Again? What more could we celebrate?’
Julia and Elina lifted their glasses.
‘To new friends.’ Iliya smiled broadly, looking around the table and finishing on Julia before downing his drink.
The end of the evening descended into simmering laughter and as the glasses emptied and the plates had been cleared, Henry stood up, his chair scraping the floor. ‘Well, that was plenty of food and drink, and I think this should be a ritual, maybe. Dinners like this.’ He looked around the table. Julia looked at Elina and smiled. ‘We have discovered a friendship here, in this bowl of dust.’ He laughed lazily and put his hands in his pockets. ‘We are lucky.’
Iliya took his lead, and stood up, walking over to Julia. His fingers lightly touched her shoulder. ‘Thank you. Dinner was lovely. Chicken slightly overcooked but…’ he shrugged and laughed. Julia shot him a look at the cheek of it, eyes flashing and mildly amused. Iliya laughed. ‘Just a joke. It was delicious, of course. As was the company.’
Elina straightened in her chair and stood up to grab her coat. Iliya turned to Henry, clapping him on the shoulder. ‘Good to meet your family. You’re a lucky man.’ Henry squinted at the comment and thought that Iliya acted young. H was young, after all. And he let it go. ‘I am. Yes.’ He responded.’ Iliya reached over to the table and grabbed a remaining glass that had two fingers of vodka left in it and swallowed it all. He smelled of stale sweat, and soap, and cigarettes.
Elina walked over to Julia, her coat in her hands. ‘It was so lovely to meet you- can we do this again? Maybe just you and I?’
Julia touched her arm delicately. ‘I would like that.’
‘Well, that wasn’t too bad?’ Henry had changed into a cotton shirt and soft trousers for bed, and washed his face, his hair damp after he ran his hands through it. He walked over to Julia, still dressed, sitting at the table in a daze.
‘Hey.’ He moved her chair back as she still sat in it, with a bit of force, so that it faced him, and stood in front of her, his knees moving her legs slightly apart.
Julia looked up at him. ‘It was. I’m just tired.’
‘You look like you’re thinking.’
‘You know me well.’
‘Is it because the chicken was burnt?’
‘It wasn’t burnt!’ Julia laughed. ‘It was perfectly fine.’
‘Yes, apparently it was delicious, of course.’ Henry mocked Iliya’s tone.
‘Oh, stop it.’ Julia smirked. Henry acted protective when he was drunk. Some would call it jealous. ‘He was being nice.’
‘Sure, he was.’
‘Don’t be like this.’ He was careless when he drank.
He reached over and touched her shoulder, his hand running down the front of her shirt. ‘Like what?’
Julia moved his legs aside and placed hers back together sharply, annoyed. ‘Henry, you know I don’t know anyone here, I am trying my best, and it was good to meet new people.’ Her head dropped to the side, still looking at him. His eyes were dark. Heavy. His languid body moved confidently around her.
He leaned in towards her, his hands gripping the arms of her chair. With one hand, fed a few buttons out of their holes, at the top of her dress. Her distractedness didn’t register on his face; and how could it, as he wasn’t looking at her. ‘Hey. I am protective of you.’ He was breathing heavily. ‘What’s wrong with that?’ He searched her eyes.
Julia knew he longed for her, but she felt like a possession in that moment. She performed, she was beautiful, and the attention destabilized Henry; it diminished his power in some way. Her strength was being aware of it. ‘Nothing is wrong with that. Protecting me is good. But sometimes— ‘Julia shrugged, ‘—I don’t need it.’
He hung his head down, lazily and then buried his face into her neck. ‘Come on.’
He took her by the wrist, gently at first, and then firmly pulling her up from the chair, and with that momentum, guided her into the dark beyond them as she wrapped her arms around his waist, stumbling into him.
10
It was on a morning, a few months later, that Julia had seen Iliya again, and the meeting had peaked more of her curiosity.
She had taken Slava to Stratford, to the butchers, then to the park to get some ice cream, and had stopped off at the bookshop to say hello to Elina. When they’d gotten off at the stop, Slava ran off down the path ahead, her little legs carrying her farther than Julia could chase her since she was carrying two shopping bags. She saw a figure approaching her from a distance, and then recognized the voice.
‘That way!’ Iliya shouted, hooking his thumb to the road behind him, wagging his finger in mock admonishment, his smile bright.
‘I know! I see her!’
Iliya was walking towards the bus station, and as they neared each other their voices changed to a normal tone. Julia shook her head. ‘Why is it, that you always catch me when my child is out of my reach?’
He stopped a few feet away from her. ‘I seem to attract the wildness.’
Julia threw her hands up and rolled her eyes, then looked down the path. She saw the flurry of blonde hair, playing, so she turned back to Iliya.
‘Where does she get it from, I wonder? I bet that is from you, but you choose not to reveal it to people.’ Iliya rolled up his sleeves. His thin blue shirt billowed in the breeze and his hair flopped to one side, revealing the side of his neck. It felt somehow provocative, that bit of skin.
Julia felt her cheeks grow warm. ‘You should talk.’
Iliya’s eyes darkened ever so slightly. ‘Eh? Has my wild reputation been in the wives’ gossip circles?’
‘That wife of yours is a saint.’ Julia knew more about Iliya than he realized, and maybe she had spoken out of turn just now. Elina had confided in her about how his moods would change like a light switch sometimes, and how she was wary of him, yet making excuses for him, as she loved him. It intrigued Julia.
‘Oh, you think so, do you?’ he teased with
a sharpness.
It was a simple comment, but it made Julia feel for her friend. Women were taught to endure their husbands; it bothered her. She noticed now that he was carrying a rucksack, and he was close enough to her now that she smelled soap, as if he’d just had a shower. ‘Where are you off to? How do you get to take the day off?’
Iliya paused and adjusted his bag, as if he was looking for an answer that would satisfy her. ‘My back, you see— it has too much pain. Today is not a day for being out there,’ he pointed at the hot fields beyond them. ‘I take the time when I need to.’
Julia squinted. She’d never seen or heard him complain before. ‘You seem perfectly fine now.’
‘Oh, it’s better,’ he adjusted the strap of his bag. ‘Comes and goes, really.’
‘Well, isn’t that convenient.’ Julia raised an eyebrow.
‘Skeptical?’ Iliya snapped, and then recovered quickly.
Julia ignored it. ‘Well, who am I to judge. But it’s not as if you’re an old man. You’re the same age as I am.’
‘Listen, I do what I want. And with a wife like Elina, I don’t need to worry so much about work. Lucky me.’ He shifted his feet, marking his place confidently.
Julia turned and called to Slava again, cupping her hands around her mouth, and saw her in the distance coming towards her. She put her hands on her hips and focused her attention on Iliya.
‘Well, Henry doesn’t get that same luxury. But we are happy. All my time is spent here, and his is spent—’ she looked at the cane fields ‘— there. And it’s enough for me.’ Julia smiled because at first, she said to just to defend herself, for no reason. But then she felt it; she meant it and was pleased that she felt warm at the admission.
‘You’re a curious one.’ He was watching her again with that intensity, like she was under a microscope.
‘In what way?’
‘Dark, but light. A contradiction. Like a secret that’s out in the open, meant to be discovered.’
Julia laughed. ‘Iliya, I think the heat has gotten to your brain.’ Slava arrived and pulled on Julia’s skirts. ‘Off to your business then, or wherever it is you’re going. I’m to mine.’
He’s a good man, your Henry,’ Iliya struck a match to a cigarette and exhaled, walking away, the dirt forming clouds at his heels.
Julia nodded. Iliya and Elina had been to the house once a week regularly, and it was a surprisingly normal and familiar energy that developed between all of them. Playful. Open. Teasing. She felt maternal around him, but also interested. Electrified. Wary.
The following afternoon, Slava was in Marta’s garden, playing with a kitten, and Julia was folding laundry, occasionally looking in the mirror, gently prodding a yellow bruise that was almost healed. It was on her upper arm, where he grabbed her one day, shoving her out of the way because he had to leave for work. He had apologized immediately after, but it was cursory. He is a good man, your Henry. She winced. It had been the morning after an argument. It was fine. She was fine. Slava didn’t see much of it, so that was a silver lining. Julia felt swollen and tearful. So what, if he took his anger and frustration out on her? It was normal. It was normal, she repeated to herself, stroking the yellow bruise, outlining the faint green edges that had faded into new skin.
She walked into the kitchen. The burners were off, the small radio that they owned was turned off. The house was beautifully quiet. She opened the front door slowly and closed it behind her. She walked absentmindedly, slowly, down the front steps, not entirely sure where she would walk to. She just needed some kind of escape.
She went to Olya’s house, knocked on the door. No answer. Perhaps she had gone into town. Disappointed, she sulked back down the stairs and sat down on the bottom step, looking past the houses down the road to the end.
Was it odd to want to see Iliya? Was he even there? Probably not. She smiled at the thought of his mischievous face.
She stood up, walked farther down the road, to Oleg and Yara’s house. Knocked on the door. No answer. Had everyone left? She was stuck. Back down the steps again. She looked back at her house, walked past it back to Marta’s house, scooped Slava up and attached her to her hips, then walked back down the path. Oh, just keep going. Stop being pathetic, it’s not like you’re doing anything wrong, she reassured herself.
She walked to the very last house, up the one creaking step. Three knocks. Silence. She turned around. Bad idea. She turned back to face the door and knocked again. Nothing save for the wind through the trees beside
her.
She looked to the right, and then to the left, and then rationalized that this was a friend, and she was visiting a friend, and wouldn’t it be nice if she waited for that friend? Or at least brought something with her for that friend? She looked down at her empty hands and disregarded that one detail. She turned the small handle of the door and wondered if it would open for her. It did. Mama? Slava asked curiously. Shhh, Julia replied. We’ve come to see a friend.
And then she was inside, and the door quietly closed behind her, and she walked into someone else’s life that was displayed in pictures on the walls, a tattered yellow sofa that had a small woolen blanket on it, and a tin coffee pot with wildflowers in it. There was a cream wool rug on the floor, a kilim, with red, green, and black patterns woven into it, and there was a small cracked mirror on the wall beside where Julia stood. She sensed a female presence in this house, for it felt known to her. Familiar. Soft.
The door swung open abruptly, she spun around.
‘Hey! What are you doing here...?’ Elina stood with her hand still on the door handle, a fistful of flowers in her hand, the light behind her, amplifying her hair. ‘I thought I heard the door open—’ she placed the flowers down by the door and came up to Julia, her hands dark with fresh soil. ‘— didn’t realize it would be you.’ She looked at Slava standing next to Julia’s calves. ‘Hello little miss, nice to see you again.’
Julia backed away, embarrassed. ‘I am so sorry; I was just looking for— ‘
‘Me, I should hope.’
‘Yes, of course, I just wanted to see if there was anyone around. There are only so many loaves of bread I can bake and eggs to collect.’
Elina smiled. ‘Of course. Tea? Come let’s sit outside.’ Slava ran ahead of them.
‘Yes please.’ She suddenly felt awkward, like she’d interrupted a couple’s conversation. ‘Slava is asleep, and I went for a walk and thought I would check in on you, and...’ her cheeks and neck turned scarlet as she fumbled an excuse. She looked around, trying to maintain some kind of productive stance.’...and I thought I would look, and the door was open and, sorry! Sorry, it’s an odd day, I just had no one to talk to.’
‘No, no, don’t be silly, I understand. Do you want to come in?’ And then she laughed as he realized what she’d said. ‘And, well, here you are! Well. Never mind. You’re here now.’
‘Thank you. I’ll stay for a minute.’
She closed the door behind him and walked past her to a basin of water to wash her hands. Julia sat on a wooden chair. It squeaked and settled under her.
‘Where’s Iliya?’
Elina laughed. ‘Why would you want to know? Isn’t he enough of a bore at dinner?’ She turned and dried her hands. ‘We keep company with people who have similar stories, don’t we.’ She narrowed her eyes, observing. ‘So, what’s happening. You look like a dog without its owner.’
Both laughed at the sadness of that comment. Julia’s back relaxed into the chair.
Elina walked over to her and sat down on the chair across from her, placing the tea on the table between them.
‘I must keep an eye on the time,’ Julia warned. ‘Slava will be waking up soon.’
‘Yes, of course. So. How are you, Julia.’
‘Happy. Just a bit lonely sometimes I guess.’
‘Ahhh, welcome to life here,’ Elina laughed. ‘We all survive the best way we can.’
‘The space, however, the quiet, is wonderful c
ompared to…’
‘Compared to what we’ve all been through?’
Julia nodded. Elina cocked her head to the side. ‘Well, what a God-awful comparison that is.’ They both burst out laughing, and Elina gestured to the back of the house. ‘Come.’
The garden was a large postage stamp of green, with two metal chairs and a rusty metal-latticed table, a wooden bench to one corner and rows of green leaves poking through the soil on one side. On the other, a little woven fence with rows of yellow and orange flowers climbing up to the top. Next to it was a tomato plant, its bright green vines and dark red globes secured to wooden posts, and across from that, a washing line with a few sheets snapping in the breeze. Julia took a deep breath and closed her eyes. It smelled of mineral and bright green and hot perfume and soap. She heard the rustle of leaves and distant brushing of long grass. It smelled of her childhood.
‘Here,’ Elina brought a teapot and two cups and sat down across from her. ‘It’s lovely out here, isn’t it?’
Julia sipped her tea. Fresh mint leaves. ’Elina, this wonderful. Thank you.’
‘For what?’
‘Tea isn’t that difficult, Julia.’
‘No,’ Julia chuckled. ‘For being a friend without complications.’
Elina rolled her eyes. ‘Don’t be silly. We all need a friend sometimes. Isn’t that how we find our strength? Leaning on others?’
Julia folded her hands in her lap, covering the bruise that she suddenly realized was exposed, her face reddening.
Elina noticed. ‘Don’t worry.’ She turned away to look across at the fields, and the trees to the left of them, and not at Julia.
‘Worry about what?’
She turned back. ‘The things you try to hide, and the things that you can’t.’
Julia nodded and looked away. ‘Life can be confusing sometimes.’
‘That’s to be expected. Are you happy?’
‘Yes. But sometimes, I want more.’
‘Don’t we all. ‘The sheets snapped crisply. ‘Children?’
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