‘I’m not.’ Nadia asked Irina, ‘Are you?’
‘No – oddly enough. Too excited, I suppose… Oh – speak of the old devil…’
Maroussia – coming slowly down the steps with a tray. Glasses of black tea, and—’
‘Maroussia!’ Nadia was kneeling, peering… ‘Is that a cake?’
‘It is, my dears, it is. Little celebration. Surprise, eh?’
* * *
‘Steamer, you say.’
‘It’s the word Leonid Mesyats used, yes. He said the Bolsheviks who came up from Astrakhan and murdered the officers in your house came in a – I think he said a “little steamer”. And that it had been a rich man’s toy before that, but had now been appropriated by the Cheka.’
‘Well, there’s a boat there, certainly, and the people I work for do make use of it, but I think it’s the army’s, really.’
‘What matters is—’ Bob explained – ‘well, the first question – is it in fact a steamboat? That could have been just a word used loosely – he might call a petrol-engined cruiser a “steamer” – being strictly a rowing-boat man himself, you see.’
‘How would one know the difference?’
‘Well – it’d have a funnel, for instance. Like all the bigger ships.’
Maroussia shook her head. ‘I know rowboats and sailboats – and the other kind – but not them, sir.’
Nadia said, ‘But if this man’s a fisherman – surely he’d know?’
‘Yes.’ The Count nodded. ‘Let’s assume it’s a steamboat, Bob.’
‘I’m afraid we have to.’ He shrugged. ‘Much rather not, actually… anyway it leads to a second question – which Nadia might be able to answer. Not that I expect you will, Nadia. But – if you ever heard them talking about any river trip they were about to make, you might just possibly have a clue to it – whether they keep steam up or not?’
‘I don’t know what you mean. But anyway…’
‘You see – a steam engine needs a fire – furnace – coal-burning or wood-burning or even oil, if the rich owner converted it. Then to put power on the engine you need steam pressure; so the fire has to be lit and the boiler heated so as to convert water into steam. Otherwise, if the fire’s out, everything’s cold, dead, there’s no possibility of just jumping aboard and pushing off – d’you see the point? To be any use to us, we’d need to be able to just – go… Huh?’
‘I take the point – but I work in my own little cell of an office, they don’t discuss any plans or – well, anything, in my hearing.’
‘So if they were going somewhere and had to give advance notice to the boat’s crew, you wouldn’t know it.’
‘I wouldn’t even be told anyone was going anywhere.’
‘No. Right.’ He turned to the Count. ‘Only way to find out is to have a look. I’ll have to sneak down there, in the dark.’
‘But I’ll go with you – naturally. Since I know my way around and you don’t.’
‘All right. Tomorrow night. We need to be on top form – it’d be silly to try it now.’
‘Oh Lord, yes…’
‘So – we lie up all through tomorrow – or rather today, now – work out some plans and alternatives, perhaps – check the steamboat after dark – Sunday night, this’ll be, it’s Sunday now. And we start out from here, one way or another, on Monday night.’
‘But if the steamboat’s no good to us—’
‘We’ve all tomorrow to work something else out.’
Irina asked him, ‘Are you so confident?’
He shrugged. ‘We can’t stay here. One thing we know is we have a rowing-boat hidden down in the delta. At a pinch we might use that. As for getting to it – well, I do have some bits of ideas. Including the famous steamboat… Incidentally – is that the only boat here? I mean apart from rowing-boats?’
‘Other boats come sometimes. Come and go.’ Nadia pointed southward with her head. ‘Between here and Astrakhan – military headquarters here, naval command’s down at the port, there’s quite a bit of coming and going at times.’
‘But no other craft – powered craft – actually kept here.’
‘I don’t think so.’
‘So what’s the idea, Bob?’ The Count shifted from one elbow to the other. ‘Jump on board and steam down the river, right through and out to sea?’
Bob looked at him, shook his head. ‘Life isn’t as simple as it was in Pugachov’s day, Nick.’
‘So what, then?’
‘Down-river is Astrakhan town and port – a military garrison and quite a strong naval force. All right, they’re Bolsheviks, but they can’t all be asleep or drunk all the time. Besides, to the people here it would look like the obvious thing to do – since we’re on the river – it’s what they’d expect. And remember, Nadia will be missed – when she doesn’t report for work they’ll want to know where the hell she is.’
‘So we must start out early in the night – right after dark…’
‘Of course.’
‘And you need a boat, you say not down-river, so – we’d be going up-river?’
He’d smiled as if he thought he was suggesting something ridiculous; Irina echoed him – ‘Up-river!’ – and giggled. Bob ignored her, told her brother, ‘That’s why I want something better than a rowing-boat. If we were going south, anything would do – a raft even, you could drift down. But against the stream, with four people in a small boat – well, you saw how old Mesyats had to put his back into it?’
‘Where would we be going?’
‘Where we met Mesyats. The fishing-station. Where transport is still standing idle and unguarded – touch wood.’
‘Oh – that lorry…’
He nodded. ‘The driver said they only get petrol for the fishing season, but there was a half-full drum at the back of the barn. I know he said he had a colleague who operates illegally, so it’s conceivable we might get there and find it’s gone. But that wouldn’t be the end of the world, anyway – the railway’s within walking distance, and if these girls have papers…’
Nadia assured him, ‘We do.’
‘As it happens, I don’t. So – we could walk, if we had to. Three or four nights – or five or six – walking all night and hiding in daylight. Nick could get food for us – he has papers and money.’
‘How many versts of walking?’
‘Don’t ask, Irina. We’d just start walking, and say “Thank God” when we got there. With any luck we’ll have motor transport and make the whole trip in one night. I’m only pointing out that we would have options.’
‘Except for getting up-river as you said we’ll have to.’ Nadia’s grey eyes held him. A calm, reasoning but somehow detachedly interested look: warmly dispassionate might have described it… ‘That is, if the steamboat isn’t usable.’
He agreed. ‘There’s some thinking to do. Dream up some alternatives – when the brain’s a bit fresher than it is now – and make decisions after we’ve inspected the boat tomorrow.’
‘Well. This may be a silly question. But – suppose it does need to have its furnace lit—’ she was putting this to Bob as if the two of them were alone, hadn’t glanced at either of the others – ‘might it be feasible for you, or for you and Nikki together, to make a start on that soon after sunset, say, so that we could get away – I don’t know, however much later it would have to be?’
‘Yes. In theory. But I’d guess they’d have a guard or guards on or near the boat. A crewman or two on board, and/or a sentry on the landing-stage. Any idea, Maroussia?’
The old woman came to: as if emerging from a daydream… ‘I think – soldiers, on the river bank. Yes.’
‘Might make it a bit awkward.’ Still with his eyes on Nadia’s, thinking about it but also aware of her. Glancing away, then – instinct suggesting it might be better if he did – at the Count… ‘Might be something in it, Nick. When we go down there tomorrow night: supposing it isn’t guarded – or if there’s just one man on board… Two, even. If we coul
d – well, deal with them…’
Irina, sharply: ‘D’you mean kill them?’
‘Well. Probably…’ Addressing the Count again: ‘Armed sentries on the bank might be something else. But in theory – if we could take control of the boat, flash-up the fire and all—’
‘You could do that, could you?’
‘Yes. And you’d come back here, Nick, bring the girls down, say, two hours later, by which time I’d have steam up.’
‘What about the noise when you start up?’
‘I’d let her drift out into the stream – some way downstream, might even anchor for a while. There’d be some noise anyway – part of the risk, that’s all. But if they’re sloppy enough for this to be on the cards at all, it’s quite likely the rest of them would sleep through it.’
‘We’d have to steam up past the house, you realize.’ The Count pondered this. ‘River’s easily visible from the house, of course, but the willows are all in leaf; in places the view would be quite well obstructed. And you could pass at some distance, well out into the river. Besides which, there must be some other night traffic… Maroussia?’
‘Yes. Yes, Nikolai Petrovich, I think there is.’ She added vaguely, ‘Sometimes…’
‘So it’s – possible, Bob. We might get away tomorrow night.’
Irina purred, ‘Isn’t Nadia clever?’
‘Yes.’ Bob looked at her again. ‘She is. It might not work out, but it’s certainly a chance.’
‘Are you an engineer?’
‘God, no. Just a plain sailor.’
‘But all the business with the engine…’
‘It’s not very complicated. Mind you, Nick – as long as there’s fuel on board – that’s yet another full-sized if…’
‘We met such a nice naval engineer on our way here from Petrograd.’ Irina began telling her brother this. ‘A man called Dherjakin. Quite old, middle forties or thereabouts, and – believe it or not – with only one leg. He’d been a captain, engineer captain in command of some dockyard in the north at one time, then in Petrograd where they’d arrested him, and he’d have been shot or something if he hadn’t agreed to work for them. As he put it, how can a man with one leg run away? Anyway, he was most charming. We got into conversation with him on the train – all of us very cautious to start with, but then – we got on so naturally, you know, and – I think Mama really quite fell for him. He realized how things were with us, of course, he must have: and – listen to this, Nikki – he definitely saved our lives at one stage. Red Guards boarded the train, they weren’t believing anything anyone said, even people with papers were being dragged off and—’
Maroussia whispered – trying not to interrupt the story – ‘I’m off to my bed. All of you sleep well…’
‘Maroussia.’ The Count struggled to his feet. ‘We’ve kept you up. I’m so sorry…’
‘Happiest night for years.’ Smiling, blinking her little round eyes at him in the lamplight; she was standing at her full height, the Count and Bob both stooped under the curve of the brick ceiling… ‘Anyway, happiest night since these little ones arrived. And that was spoilt, with my darling Maria Ivanovna so ill…’
Bob said, ‘Perhaps we should take Maroussia with us.’
‘Oh yes!’ Nadia was kneeling: Maroussia had just referred to her as a ‘little one’, but on her knees she was about the same height as the old woman was on her feet.
‘Maroussia, dorogaya—’
‘I shan’t be going anywhere.’ Smiling at Nadia. ‘Bless you, but—’
‘We might think about it again in the morning.’ The Count put an arm round her shoulders. ‘Might persuade you. I’m sorry we’ve kept you from your bed. And thank you – there’s no adequate way I could ever repay all that you’ve—’
‘Go on with you.’ She patted his arm. Smiled at Bob. They were at the steps; she’d left another lamp at the top. ‘Goodnight, all of you.’
They went back to the girls. Bob saying – to Irina – ‘So you came on a train with a one-legged naval engineer. We came by truck with a one-handed driver.’
‘It was very lucky for us that we did meet him.’ Nadia confirmed Irina’s story. ‘It’s a fact, we mightn’t have got much further.’
‘We wouldn’t have.’ Irina took over again. ‘But he produced his own papers and official documents – he’d been given some very important job, and consequently this terrific sort of authority – little man with a wooden leg, for heaven’s sake! He told them we were travelling with him, he took full responsibility for us – and in any case this comrade was ill, didn’t they have eyes in their heads, etcetera… I remember he said to them “Persecute the enemies of the revolution, not its friends!”’
The Count glanced at Bob. ‘Sounds like the gospel according to Anton Vetrov and his accomplice Robat Khan.’
‘Does, doesn’t it.’
Nadia said, ‘But isn’t it extraordinary – a chance meeting like that, probably the difference between us all being alive or dead?’
‘Actually—’ the Count was looking at Irina – ’it’s dreadful. To inflict such terror… And that we should become used to such – moral obscenity…’ He asked her, ‘How did you finally get here – actually here to Maroussia, I mean? She couldn’t have known you were coming?’
‘Boris went ahead of us. We’d changed to the branch line at Vladiminovka, and crossed from there on the ferry, then had the luck to get a lift in a farm-wagon. Not to Enotayevsk, Mama thought it would be too risky, someone that close to home would surely recognize her, or me. So we stopped at Fedorovka…’
The place-name rang a bell in Bob’s mind, which had begun to drift: he hadn’t been far off dozing… Fedorovka was the riverside village they’d been passing in old Mesyats’ boat when the sun had been setting blood-red behind it and Mesyats had told them about the butchering of the wounded officers. Until this moment he’d forgotten its name – which Mesyats had mentioned – but he’d thought of it earlier in connection with possible escape routes.
The steamboat would be the answer, though. Gift from the gods – if one could work the trick… Up past that place – Fedorovka – and switching channels where Mesyats had, taking that same route in reverse. Then at the fishing-station you’d turn the steamboat adrift, pray for the current to take it well downstream before it beached itself somewhere – and they’d never know where you’d landed. Maybe they’d work it out later, after the truck was reported stolen, but by that time you’d be – heaven knew where. But out of their reach, please God.
Irina’s voice: ‘Remember our rabbit-burrow, Nikki?’
The Count staring at her: frowning slightly. His bearded face dark on this side, away from the oil-lamp on his left. A hand up, fingers snapping: ‘That burrow. Not still there, surely?’
‘How d’you think the boy got in here tonight, to tell us you were at the Swede’s?’
‘Now that’s one I didn’t think of. Should have, I suppose.’ He looked round at Bob. ‘There used to be – still is, apparently – a hole under the perimeter wall, back there.’ A gesture, northward. Asking his sister, ‘Did we make it, or—’
‘Village boys did. Kids who’d be grown up now – or dead. I remember you and Vlad setting a sort of snare in it once. It didn’t work, but—’
‘Anyway, Boris found it, got in through it and came knocking on Maroussia’s door here?’
‘He got to her, anyway, and she came and fetched us in her donkey-cart. Same as she fetched you – same filthy old tarpaulin, with firewood on top of it…’
‘All the way to Fedorovka and back. Poor old donkey… But my God, isn’t Maroussia magnificent?’
‘Oh.’ Nadia hugging her knees, gently rocking, ‘She’s a saint.’
Someone was a saint. Bob nodded drowsily. Liking Nadia, happy to agree with her although he didn’t know what they were on about, by this time. Half awake again now though – in spasms – and thinking about the plan for the following night – the steamboat. Tonight, not tomor
row night – today had now become tomorrow.
Sentries on the river bank, Maroussia had said. But only vaguely, she hadn’t been sure. Crewmen in the boat was more than likely, they’d surely have at any rate one man sleeping on board. A mental echo of Irina’s sharply-voiced question came on the heels of that conclusion: D’you mean kill them?
No shooting. One shot and you’d be finished. Leave the pistol here – then there’d be no such temptation. Persuade Nick to leave his Browning behind too. Knives would be the things. He thought, When the devil drives… Hearing – distantly, as in the beginnings of a dream – the Count asking Irina to explain why they’d decided to come here to Enotayevsk instead of going to the Crimea as their mother had intended. She began, ‘Because we were told – Boris was told – by the people from whom he was getting Mama’s new papers – that it would be hopeless to try to get down there from Petrograd, people were being pulled off trains and shot almost without question. So if we came here first, we thought – as this part was supposed to be in White hands, until—’ She broke off as Nadia interrupted in a whisper, reaching to touch her fiancé’s knee, ‘Your friend’s asleep.’
11
Ready to go – except for the light out there. The sun had gone down but the moon wasn’t going to set for another hour yet. At this time of year and latitude it was rising only a few minutes later each morning but setting later by more like half an hour.
It had been a day of rest, talk, preparation. With an element of wishful thinking. You had to be ready to leave this place tonight – which meant assuming that the steamboat would be there and usable and not too effectively guarded. It would be marvellous if it turned out like this, but…
But…
Waiting in the Hole now. They’d had supper up in the kitchen and spent several hours there off and on, but it was a pointless risk, really. If soldiers or Cheka came to the coachhouse door you’d have to pass through there to get to the trapdoor, and if the visitors were in a hurry – suspected there might be intruders, for instance – and forced that door…
And the women had been living like this for months.
Bloody Sunset Page 19