‘Are you saying …’
‘I think it’s the Red Army.’
The Red Army! Irina’s heart trembled with joy, until another explosion shook their building, lighting up the sky and making her and Sonya cry out in panic.
‘Don’t be scared,’ said Dmitry. ‘They’ll be targeting strategic objects. Factories, rail stations, bridges, not civilian buildings. Their aim is to push the Germans out.’
‘I’m not scared,’ Irina murmured. It was a lie. A mother was always scared, if not for herself, then for her little one. But she didn’t want Dmitry to see that. ‘Let them come. The sooner the better.’ What was a little shelling if it meant the hated Nazis would soon be gone from Kiev for good?
More Soviet planes could be heard, releasing bomb after bomb after bomb. The explosions seemed closer, as if seeking them out. Irina cradled her crying daughter, whispering soothing words in her ear.
Dmitry pulled her by the arm, pointing in the direction of the front door. ‘It’s best if we take cover. Just in case.’
Irina thought it was an excellent idea. When the three of them were huddled under the communal staircase with a dozen people from nearby apartments, hoping for more bombs and at the same time deathly afraid of them, Dmitry said, ‘It was her, wasn’t it?’
‘What?’ Irina could barely hear him over the explosions. In the dark under the stairs she couldn’t see his face.
‘It was Tamara who betrayed Zina and Kirill.’ It didn’t sound like a question. It sounded as if he already knew.
‘What makes you say that?’
‘It’s the only possible explanation. She’s always asking about Maxim, wanting to know everything. Where he is, what the partisans’ plans are. And the food!’
‘The food?’
‘When the rest of us are starving, she always has bread or cheese or meat. I could never understand it, until now.’
Irina lowered her head. She felt the deepest shame, as if it was her and not Tamara who had been exchanging information for food and money.
‘You are not denying it,’ said Dmitry.
‘I’m not confirming it, either.’
‘You don’t need to. I already know.’
‘The partisans would kill her if they knew.’
‘No one must ever know.’ Although his voice was trembling slightly, Dmitry sounded calm. Irina’s heart was breaking for him.
‘You really do love her, don’t you?’ She put her hand on his shoulder, wanting nothing more than to take his pain away. If only it was possible. ‘And she loved you too. I’ve never seen her eyes sparkle like that for anyone.’
‘If she loved me, how could she do this? Zina and Kirill were my only family.’
‘I guess she didn’t think. Or rather, she thought about herself first. Maybe she didn’t realise the danger she was putting them in.’ Irina couldn’t believe she was defending Tamara after everything she’d done. She fell quiet.
‘I’m glad this happened now and not after we were married,’ he said bitterly.
They stayed hidden for over an hour. Eventually the Soviet planes were gone, leaving behind something the people of Kiev hadn’t known in a very long time – hope. That night, as she lay awake and listened to the silence, Irina thought of Tamara and Dmitry’s happy faces as they talked about their wedding. She thought of Dmitry’s heartbreak and despair. As much as she wanted to hate Tamara, she couldn’t. Yes, her friend had been weak. And yes, she had betrayed them in the worst way possible. But that was what war and despair did to people. They made them commit acts that were out of character, acts they didn’t even know they were capable of.
In the dark, she thought of the planes that had come to liberate her city. She imagined Red Army soldiers on the streets of Kiev, red Soviet flags on every building and not a swastika, not a grey uniform in sight. She imagined walking outside with her head held high and feeling at home in the place where she grew up. Would that day ever come? And would Zina and Kirill be there to see it?
Would any of them?
*
The next morning, Dmitry insisted Irina and Sonya move out of the apartment. ‘Tamara betrayed you once,’ he said. ‘She could do it again.’ He took them to a small empty house in Podol, a few tram stops away from Tamara’s apartment back when the trams were still running, where Irina spent the next few days taking her daughter to work with her, nursing her on a small folding bed in the tiny bedroom, cooking their meals on a camp stove that only worked sporadically, and waiting for Maxim.
It was Sunday, Irina’s only day off, and she was grateful she could stay home with her little one. She always felt fearful walking on the streets swarming with German soldiers, but having her child with her turned this fear into a blind panic.
All morning she glanced out the window, hoping to see Maxim walking down the road. When it was lunchtime, with still no sign of him, she took Sonya for a nap and fell asleep with her, lulled by her quiet breathing. When she opened her eyes, she saw Maxim sitting next to her, watching the two of them with a smile. Irina’s heart skipped and she crawled across the bed, careful not to wake her daughter, whispering his name and putting her arms around him.
‘Ira, I’m so happy to see you! You have no idea.’
How long had it been? It felt like an eternity since she had last laid her eyes on him. If only they could stay like this forever. But all too soon he pulled away from her.
‘Dmitry told me to come straight here. Did something happen? Why aren’t you home? Did you have another argument with Mama?’
Even though she’d rehearsed what she was going to say to him, despite miserable days and sleepless nights thinking about this moment, she didn’t know how to tell him. She must have looked terrible because his face lost all its colour.
‘What happened?’ he whispered.
‘Let’s go into the kitchen. I don’t want to wake Sonya. Let me make you something to eat. You must be starving. I have some carrots. I can cook them for you …’
She made a move in the direction of the kitchen but he grabbed her hand. ‘Ira, stop. Look at me.’ She looked at him and, unable to take the expression on his face, burst into tears. ‘Now you are scaring me. Will you tell me what’s going on? Where are Mama and Papa?’
A German aeroplane was humming in the distance. A car horn sounded. Somewhere, a woman was screaming hysterically. Irina didn’t hear any of it. All she could see was his anguished face in front of her. It was as if he already knew. ‘They are gone, Maxim. The Gestapo …’
Maxim clenched his fists so hard, his knuckles cracked. ‘They came for them?’
She nodded. ‘About ten days ago. We haven’t heard from them since.’
‘You are right. We shouldn’t have this conversation here. Let’s go in the kitchen,’ he said gloomily, throwing a quick glance at his sleeping daughter.
Her knees were trembling so much, she tripped over and almost fell. Maxim didn’t offer to help. He didn’t seem to notice but sank into a chair in the kitchen and stared into space silently, his face blank.
‘It’s all my fault,’ he said, his voice breaking. When he looked up, there was such agony in his eyes, Irina gasped. ‘They took them because of me. It’s exactly what I was afraid of. Ever since I became a partisan … But no one knew about us here. We kept it a secret from everyone. Who told the Gestapo on us?’
It took her a moment to reply. ‘Some people knew. Zina had many friends. It could have been anyone.’ She couldn’t tell him about Tamara, she realised. Because she wanted to protect her friend? Or because she wanted to protect herself? If Maxim knew Tamara was responsible for this, he might blame Irina. She held him and kissed his tears away, whispering soothing words, telling him everything was going to be all right. If only she could believe it herself.
When she placed a plate of boiled vegetables in front of him, he pushed it away and stood up. ‘I have to go.’
‘Where are you going?’ she asked, trying to fight a dark cloud of foreboding.
She exhaled sharply, her hand on her mouth. It was exactly what she’d been afraid of. ‘You can’t go there. It’s not safe. The house is probably being watched. Remember, they are looking for you. This is exactly what they are hoping for. That one day you will show up, searching for your parents.’
‘Exactly. It’s me they want. Once they have me, they will let them go.’
‘Are you out of your mind? You are just going to walk in there and …’ She couldn’t continue. The words got stuck in her throat.
‘They are my parents, Irina. I can’t just sit back and do nothing. If I don’t help them, they will die.’
‘Help them by handing yourself in?’
‘What choice do I have?’
‘Don’t you understand? If the Gestapo have you, they’ll have no use for your parents. They won’t let them go. They will kill them. And then they will torture and kill you.’ She shuddered at the thought. ‘Sonya can’t live without her father.’ I can’t live without my husband, she wanted to add.
‘What do you suggest? That I do nothing?’
That was exactly what she wanted to suggest. The Gestapo had Maxim’s parents. As terrible as that was, nothing they did could change that. Maxim risking his life to fix the unfixable wasn’t going to save them, but it would condemn him. Although she knew it was impossible, she wanted him to accept what had happened and go on with his life. She wanted him to let his parents go, so that he could live, so that she would have a husband and Sonya would have a father. Did that make her a terrible person? Was she selfish for wanting him to do nothing to save his parents’ lives? She couldn’t say any of it to him. She knew there was only one thing that was keeping Maxim from breaking down right there in the kitchen and that was a hope that he could still do something for them.
Taking his hand, she said, ‘As long as they are useful to them, they will keep your parents alive. And that will gain us some time. Don’t do anything in a hurry. Sleep on it. Think about it. Talk to the others. Azamat, Danilo. They might have some ideas.’
He sat back down. ‘You might be right. We need to plan this carefully. Too much is at stake. But I’m not giving up. I couldn’t live with myself if I did nothing.’
‘I know.’
‘They are my parents.’
‘I know.’ She couldn’t stop herself from shaking, couldn’t stop her hands from fidgeting, picking up cups and wiping invisible crumbs off the table. How could she keep him safe when he would give anything to save his parents, even his life?
‘Pack your things. We have to go.’
‘Where are we going?’
‘It’s not safe for you in Kiev. It would kill me if I lost you and Sonya. I couldn’t bear if anything happened to you too. Then I would have nothing to live for.’ Her heart beat faster with hope. Was he finally going to allow her to join him at the partisan battalion? But when she asked, he said, ‘It’s too dangerous. You can stay with Azamat’s wife. She lives in the village of Buki. No one will find you there.’
Disappointment must have been written on her face because he drew her into a hug and told her everything was going to be all right. All right how? she wanted to ask. The last thing she wanted was to stay with a stranger when her husband needed her help and support. When he needed her to stop him from doing something reckless.
June 1943
Chapter 17
Lisa’s dinner break was long over but she lingered in the cafeteria, trying to muster enough energy to go back to the stuffy kitchen and clean up. Every day they received less food, but she was still expected to report for work, to stir, chop and scrub until she could barely stand. It didn’t help that she hardly saw Maxim anymore. Whenever she did catch a glimpse of him, he looked like a different man. There was no more laughter, no more guitar, no pleasant chatter with friends. His stubble had grown into a beard and hid half his face. There were circles under his eyes and his shoulders were stooped as if weighed down by a thousand worries.
A few times she’d approached him and asked how he was, if he wanted more food or something to drink. He barely grunted in reply. Gone was the easy-going, cheerful Maxim she had fallen in love with. In his place was a grim and monosyllabic individual who never looked up from his newspaper or maps. In the first week of June, Maxim turned into Danilo’s twin: quiet, distant and brooding.
There was no sign of Yulya’s chastising face and Lisa remained in her chair, absent-mindedly listening to Masha, who was reading a letter. ‘And then he says, never a moment goes by when he doesn’t think of me. He can’t wait to hold me in his arms and it won’t be long before he’s here, on the outskirts of Kiev. Lisa, I’m going to see my husband soon! Can you imagine? After two years, we’ll be together again.’
‘I’m so pleased for you, Masha,’ said Lisa, forcing a smile. The Ukrainian summer was finally here, the sun strong on her bare skin. In a different life, she would have liked nothing better than to run to the river and take a dive, splashing in the warm water without a care in the world. But these days, all she saw was the inside of the kitchen dugout, the hot stove, the dirty floor and the dwindling pile of potatoes. The Nazi officer she had shot still haunted her and she hadn’t been on another mission with the partisans since. All she did was cook and sleep.
Masha covered the letter with kisses, folded it carefully and pressed it to her heart. ‘It’s the first letter I ever got from him.’
‘How did you get this one?’ There had been no correspondence and no news of any kind from the territories free from Hitler’s clutches since the occupation started.
‘The Red Army are not far from Kiev! And Oleg is one of them. Apparently, some partisans have been in contact with them. That’s how he sent me this letter. You know what that means? Soon this war will be over, and all this will be behind us. My mama will come back. We can finally live a normal life, and maybe Oleg and I can have a baby. That’s all I want. To start a family.’
‘You are so lucky. You have so much to look forward to.’ Lisa wanted to cry. Everything she wanted with Maxim, he already had with someone else, and there was nothing she could do about it.
‘One day you’ll be happy too. When the war is over, you’ll meet someone.’
‘I have met someone.’
‘Someone else, I mean. Maybe the fact Maxim is married is a sign that he’s not the one for you. You are still so young. You’ll forget him soon enough.’
‘Maxim is the only one for me. And I will never forget him.’
‘He’s not, darling. And you will.’ Masha stroked Lisa’s hair.
‘I thought I was in love before, with a boy called Alexei. But it was nothing like this. Now I realise I was in love with the idea of love, of having someone propose to me and saying yes, of planning a wedding. I was too young then. Only now do I understand what love is all about.’
‘But you are not even together. This feeling, it’s all in your head. Love is only real when it’s mutual.’
But Lisa wasn’t listening to her. ‘Why does he have to be married? I feel like my whole life is crashing down around me.’
‘Not your whole life, silly. Just the life you imagined for yourself. A few months ago you didn’t even know him.’
‘Well, I’m not giving up. I’m going to fight for him.’
‘What can you possibly hope for?’
‘Maybe his wife doesn’t love him. Maybe she’ll meet someone else.’ Lisa said it uncertainly, like she knew it was impossible. Who wouldn’t love Maxim? And who in their right mind would even glance at another man when married to someone like him?
‘You say it like you want her to leave him. What if he loves her? If you care for him, how could you wish it on him?’
Lisa turned away from Masha and saw Yulya walking towards them down the narrow path between the tables. Her face was twisted – in anger? Lisa nodded at her empty plate and said, ‘I was just about to get back to work.’
But Yulya didn’t seem to hear. Lisa had never seen
the cook this agitated. Her eyes were wide and her chin wobbled. She opened her mouth to say something but her words were lost in the sound of an explosion. The ground under Lisa’s feet and the walls around her shook. Masha screamed, grabbing the edge of the table. White-faced, Lisa stood as if rooted to the spot and looked questioningly at Yulya.
‘What’s happening?’ cried Masha, the letter she was holding lovingly a moment ago forgotten on the floor.
Machine guns resounded in response to her question. This time the din of artillery didn’t seem distant, roaring at the outskirts of the forest. This time it felt like the enemy was right here, outside the cafeteria, closing in on them.
‘We need to go,’ Yulya shouted, her eyes round with fear. ‘Find a safe place before it’s too late.’
‘Too late for what? What is going on?’ asked Masha. But Yulya didn’t reply, shepherding the two girls away from the table and towards the exit. When they were halfway there, Lisa wrestled her hand out of Yulya’s grip and ran across the cafeteria to a little table in the corner where she usually cut vegetables. She reached under the table and felt for her loaded rifle with her hands, finally taking it out. Trembling, she joined the two women, who seemed petrified as they watched the mayhem outside. It was as if someone had disturbed a large ant hill. The partisans jumped out of their dugouts, scattering in different directions, weapons in hand. Soon they were climbing trees and hiding behind rocks, all under the accompaniment of gunfire that seemed to get closer and closer.
The Nazis were no longer the dog that barked because it couldn’t bite. They knew exactly what they were doing. And they were here, a few hundred metres away from the little settlement. Lisa wondered where Maxim was and whether he was safe. She wondered what was going to happen to them. Despite Yulya pulling on her arm, she couldn’t walk out into the open space, where bullets whizzed past like angry bees. As hard as she tried, she couldn’t force her feet to take her to safety. Yulya yanked her forward and shouted, ‘We need to go. Soon they will be here.’ Lisa could barely hear her over the roar of the artillery.
Daughters of the Resistance Page 21