“No, not really. Just be normal, and then we can talk about your impressions later. I need to know that I’m not just being swept off my feet again. I need to know that I’m making a good, rational decision that would benefit both me and Alyona in the long run.”
“You still find him attractive?” Bela asked.
“Yes, of course. Who wouldn’t? But that’s not the point, is it? I need to be objective about this. Oh, here he is.”
Bela spun around in time to see Musa approaching the table. A frown briefly flitted across his handsome face, but he soon replaced it with a broad smile. Bela knew him well enough to know that the smile was fake and that he hadn’t been too pleased to see her here.
“Hello, Madina. Bela, how nice to see you again, it’s been a while.” He gave them both a nod, started removing his winter cap but then clearly thought better of it and kept it on. He put his hands on the back of the chair nearest Madina and leaned in, smiling. “What can I get you lovely ladies?”
They both gave their orders and Musa disappeared inside.
“He might be a while, that queue is really long,” observed Bela.
“That gives us time to catch up a little, then. How are you?”
They chatted about Bela’s health, Alyona and Angelina, and Bela and Michael’s plans to move to Moscow.
“You know,” Madina said after several minutes, “I wonder if Musa needs a hand with the drinks. I’ll just go and check.”
“No, you stay here, I’ll go. I’ve been sitting here longer, and my legs are starting to go numb.” Bela laughed.
She stood up and made her way over to the entrance to the café. The place was full, and it took her a while before she located Musa just three people away from the front of the queue. She started walking towards him but then stopped. Something about his manner wasn’t right. He was talking to a waitress nearby, but it was more than just a casual conversation. She couldn’t believe it; he was flirting with her. Yes, there was no doubt about it. That special smile, his stance, the way his hand was casually placed on the back of the nearest chair, the tilt of his head. The young girl was very pretty, and she was obviously taken in by his charm. Bela could almost hear her giggling as she played with the ends of her long, dark hair. Musa reached into his pocket and drew out a card. He handed it to the girl, who turned it over in her hands for a while before smiling and putting into her pocket.
Bela turned around and went straight back outside.
“What’s the matter?” Madina asked.
“Musa. I just saw him flirting with the waitress.”
“Really?” Madina’s face went pale. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. I’m pretty sure he handed her his number.” Bela sighed. “I’m so sorry. But at least you know now.”
Madina tightened her coat around her. “It probably means nothing. I mean, I know that he’s attractive. Of course, other girls will find him attractive too.”
Bela looked her full in the eye. “Madina, that wasn’t nothing. Do you really believe that it was just nothing? I’m telling you, he was definitely chatting her up.”
Madina looked down at her lap. Bela softened her tone.
“Do you really want to get back together with him?” she said gently.
“Not really, but it would be so good for Alyona.”
“But what about you? What if he cheated on you again?”
“I’ve tried really hard to forgive him for that, for Alyona’s sake,” said Madina. “We were getting along so well, the three of us. I can tell that Alyona’s pleased to have him back in her life. A girl needs her father.” She laughed. “Don’t you Christians talk about forgiveness all the time?”
Bela took her hand and squeezed it tight.
“Madina, listen to me,” Bela said sternly. “You can forgive someone, and you should forgive them, but it doesn’t mean that you have to trust them again. Being forgiving doesn’t mean being weak and letting people walk all over you. You can forgive Musa and still move on with your life.”
Madina blinked back the tears that had been forming in her eyes. “Really?”
“Yes. Of course, I would have preferred for you to all be one happy family again, but only if Musa had really changed, and I don’t think he has from what I’ve just seen.”
“Perhaps you’re right.” Madina straightened up. “I don’t want to be a doormat. I don’t want Musa to hurt me again like he did before.”
“Of course, you don’t,” said Bela tenderly.
“And if I don’t have to get back together with Musa, then...” Madina smiled and her eyes had new life in them again.
“Then what?” Bela asked, smiling back.
“Then I have a chance to be with Oleg.”
Bela tipped her head to one side. Her family was full of surprises this week. “Um... Oleg? Who, may I ask, is Oleg?”
Madina jumped up and linked her arm through Bela’s. “Let’s go for a walk around the lake and I’ll tell you about him.”
“And Musa?”
“Oh, he can enjoy our drinks with his new waitress friend.” They both laughed.
BELA WAS STILL GLOWING after her walk in the park with Madina when she got home an hour later. Her sister had told her all about her boss and how there was a potential relationship blossoming there. She hadn’t seen Madina so happy for a long time, and Oleg sounded like a nice, stable kind of guy. The kind of guy Madina deserved for a change.
“Bela, honey. Do you think we could talk about the Moscow thing again?” Michael sat down beside her on the sofa and put his arm around her. “I don’t want to push you into doing something when you’re not ready, but, well, it’s been a couple of weeks since...”
“Since we lost our baby.”
Ouch! Why did she have to be so snappy? It wasn’t his fault. She could see the hurt in his eyes.
“I’m sorry,” she apologised. “I just, I just don’t seem to be getting over this very quickly.”
“I know, and that’s okay. We need time to grieve, it’s sad for the both of us.”
“At least Angelina doesn’t know. I felt bad not telling her the real reason I was in the hospital.”
Michael intertwined his fingers with hers and ran his thumb over her wedding ring.
“I just think that a change of scene might actually be a good thing. It’ll give you something else to focus on. Take your mind off other things. It might be helpful.”
Bela sighed, the happiness of the afternoon in the park disappearing in a split second. She’d known this moment was coming. Michael still wanted to move to Moscow, and she had no reason now to hold him back, especially not now that Angelina was on board with the move, and even seemed excited about moving to the capital.
“Okay. What does Daniel say?”
Michael’s eyes brightened and his smile returned.
“The job offer’s still open, and so is the apartment they had in mind for us.”
“I just don’t know what I’d do, up there in Moscow.”
“Well, if you wanted, there might be some role for you at Daniel’s organisation. You’re a minority language speaker, so I’m sure your own experience of learning at school would be helpful.”
“Yeah, I’m just not sure linguistics is my thing.” She laughed. “It sounds great and all, I just don’t think it’s for me.”
“Well, perhaps Lida could use you at the orphanage.”
Bela’s heart missed a beat. The orphanage. Why hadn’t she thought of that before? Orphaned children were dear to her heart, especially since finding and adopting Angelina, and she’d been so impressed by Lida’s dedication to improving the lives of these poor children whom society so often overlooked and ignored. Children who’d either lost or been abandoned by their own parents. She knew what it was like to lose a child herself now. Maybe that would help her understand a little of what it felt like to lose a parent? Maybe she could help place children in families who longed for a baby, just like her. She understood that longing. She lifted he
r head and smiled.
“Yes, maybe I could see myself getting involved with that.”
Michael kissed her.
“That’s the happiest I’ve seen you look in a long time. The sparkle is back in your eyes.”
“It is?”
“Yes. I didn’t want to lose you too, Bela.”
They snuggled together, and Bela could feel the anger and the pain melting away from her heart just a little. She felt lighter and more hopeful than she had in a while, Michael was right.
“You know, I think we should pray about it. And in the meantime, I think I need to ask God’s forgiveness,” she said.
“You do?”
“Yes. I’ve been so hurt over losing the baby that I was really angry at Him for allowing it. For hurting me.”
“He didn’t want that baby to die any more than you did. It was just part of life, Bela,” said Michael.
“I know, I know, but it’s hard to really believe that, when you’re in the thick of it.”
“God can turn all our pain around and make something good out of it.”
“Yes, I know that in my head. It’s just really hard to know that in my heart too. But I guess time will heal, that’s what they all say.”
Michael squeezed her hand. “And just to think, a few months ago you had no idea that Lida existed! No idea that you had a cousin in Moscow who ran an orphanage!” He stood up and started walking back to his desk.
Bela sat up straight. “Sorry, what? What did you say?”
“That, um, you had no idea you had a cousin...”
“I know, I know...”
It felt as if the blood had stopped pulsing through her veins. A cousin in Moscow who ran an orphanage. Could it be? Of course, it would be the perfect place to run to if....
If you wanted to deal with an unwanted pregnancy.
Chapter 21
Azamat
The snow in the park lay thick on the ground where the grass lay hidden beneath, but the central alleyway was clear thanks to the diligent park attendants and their supplies of grit. Azamat turned his face up to the late February sun, feeling the feeble warmth touch his skin. He could just see the peaks of the mountains behind the bare trunks and branches of the linden trees that lined the path, but there would be a better view from the top lake. He’d head up there later. It was his favourite spot to think and be alone.
But for now, he was waiting for company. It had been a couple of months since his unintended outburst to Alikhan in the café. He’d not heard from the boy since, but he’d been in touch with Milana several times by text and she had kept him updated. Alikhan had not taken it well, but she thought he was beginning to thaw.
Azamat had spent New Year with his family in Awush wondering whether next year would be different. Whether this was the last year he’d be ostracised from his only son. Would it be too much to hope that next New Year he’d have an extra family member to celebrate with? He had decided against sending Alikhan a gift. He didn’t want the boy to think he was trying to muscle in on the family he already had, or to replace Murat in any way. When he’d texted Milana after the New Year holiday, she’d said Alikhan was still withdrawn and thoughtful, but at least his relationship with Murat was looking stable.
But Azamat was determined not to repeat the mistakes of his father. He would give the boy some space and respect Murat’s family, but he wouldn’t stop pursuing his chance to get to know his son. Perhaps it was his persistence that had worn Milana down, or perhaps Alikhan had become curious about the father he’d never known, but it seemed Alikhan was willing to at least meet face to face again.
He hadn’t been waiting long when he saw Milana and Alikhan approaching. Milana was wrapped in a light grey winter coat with a burgundy red scarf and long, black, high heeled winter boots. His heart tightened inside his chest. She looked amazing. Azamat focussed his eyes on Alikhan and did his best to look friendly but laid back. Inside he was trembling.
“Hi.” Azamat removed his glove and reached out his hand, and Alikhan took it without hesitation. It was such an ingrained response that he probably hadn’t thought about what he was doing. Alikhan quickly withdrew his hand and stuffed it back in his pocket.
“How are you?” Azamat nodded towards Milana.
“Good, thanks. You’re looking well.”
“You too.”
The three of them started walking, awkwardly, down the central path towards the now empty fountains. Azamat asked his son about school and about dancing. Alikhan answered stiffly and with as few words as possible. His body language suggested that he was being polite for his mother’s sake, but that he wasn’t ready to let this stranger into his life just yet.
It wasn’t going well, but then that was to be expected. How long should he draw this out? Perhaps short and sweet would be best.
Milana’s phone rang. “Excuse me, sorry.” She took herself off to the side, leaving Alikhan and Azamat facing each other. Azamat was just about to ask another question about Alikhan’s school, when Milana let out a loud wail.
“No, when? How is he? Where? We’re coming right now.”
She turned to her son, her face ashen.
“Papa’s had an accident. He’s in the hospital.”
“What kind of accident? Is he alright?” Alikhan’s eyes were wide with fear.
“He was in a car crash. Some stupid guy tried to overtake and then got hit by a truck. Papa’s car was caught up in it all. I... I don’t know how bad it is.”
“I’ll take you there right away. Which hospital?” said Azamat quickly. Milana didn’t have a car, and it might take too long to hail a taxi. Azamat’s car was parked just around the corner.
“The main hospital on Gornaya Street.”
“Wait by the entrance and I’ll come and get you.” Azamat jogged off down towards where he’d left his car. It was bad timing, just when he was having a chance to talk properly to his son for the first time, but he hoped Murat was okay. He didn’t feel any anger towards the guy, just because he’d married Milana. Besides, from what he’d seen, Murat had been a good father to his boy. Car crashes were quite common, but it wasn’t often that he knew someone involved. How bad had it been? Not many people wore seatbelts; it wasn’t the law yet in their part of the country.
He climbed into the driver’s seat, started the ignition and momentarily wondered if he should start wearing a seat belt. Deciding against it for now, he drew up alongside where Milana and Alikhan were waiting, and they both clambered into the back seat. He felt a bit like a taxi driver, but that was okay. It wouldn’t have been appropriate for Milana to sit in the front seat next to him when they weren’t married, and Alikhan wasn’t comfortable enough with him yet.
He drove as fast as he safely could to the hospital car park and was lucky to find a parking space close to the building. Milana and Alikhan hurried inside the main entrance, and he followed. He would stay as long as he was needed. The three of them quickly hired the required white coats to cover their clothes and stretched blue plastic covers over the soles of their shoes.
“Did they say which floor?” he asked Milana.
Her eyes were full of fear. “Fifth”.
They took the stairs rather than wait for the lift. Azamat hung back in a corner of the corridor while Milana tried to get more information out of a passing nurse.
An hour went by. During that whole time, none of them shared more than two or three words. Milana had her arm around Alikhan and was holding him close. The poor boy looked really shaken up. Azamat observed them from a distance. He didn’t belong here. It wasn’t his family member involved in a car crash. He’d stay long enough to check that they were okay and then he would slip away. Perhaps Milana would need him to get something: medicines, medical supplies, food, water. He would stay for her, and for Alikhan, but he felt awkward. It was like looking in on a television soap opera, only this time the characters were real. He looked at Alikhan. Just a few months ago he’d been in the same position with his ow
n father, not knowing whether he was going to live or die. He wanted to tell Alikhan that he knew how he felt. He wanted to help somehow, but something held him back. This wasn’t the time.
The door to the room opened and a nurse spoke in a low voice to Milana. She looked round at Azamat, her gaze hopeful, and then she and Alikhan followed the nurse into the room. Her look had suggested ‘You can come in with us’, but Azamat hung back and waited a few seconds before he walked over to the door after them. He hung near the doorway, watching from a distance.
Murat was covered in bandages, but what was on show looked pretty beaten up. His face was red and swollen. He had his eyes closed, but must have been conscious, because Milana was talking to him, holding his hand and stroking it. Alikhan reached out a hand and patted his father’s arm.
He should go. He was just in the way here.
“Um, is there anything else you need?”
Milana didn’t even look at him. “No, thank you. We’ll stay here for a while.”
Azamat slipped back out into the corridor and made his way back down the stairs to the lobby. He handed back his white gown, threw his blue plastic shoe covers in the designated bin, and walked back outside into the fresh air. He shivered. Not because of the cold, but because hospitals gave him the creeps. His own father had been in this very hospital, and the memory of that time hung around the place like a dark cloud.
Ironically, that’s what had set him out on his quest to tell Alikhan the truth. His father being shot by his own son. He hadn’t wanted to risk that happening with Alikhan, and he’d wanted to get to know him while there was still a chance. But now? Now suddenly he was racked with doubt again. Alikhan already had a father that he clearly loved dearly. And Milana had a husband. He’d witnessed first-hand the way they’d both looked at Murat, their eyes displaying both concern and affection.
No, he had no right to come in the middle of that. He had no place here. He’d done what he wanted to do: tell Alikhan the truth and assure him that he wanted to know him. He would have to leave the rest up to them now. He would walk away, and if God willed it, he would have another chance to continue that conversation with his son. But if not... well, it was just something he was going to have to live with.
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