The Child Thief

27

Outside the church, in the centre of Sushne, there were close to twenty people huddled together surrounded by guards. Men, women and children, some without coats, none of them carrying any belongings. Evgeni, Dimitri and Yuri were among them, stamping their feet, their arms crossed in front of them. Others were being brought from their homes to join them. One woman hurried to the prisoners and bundled into Dimitri’s arms, sobbing for everything they’d lose but grateful at least to be with her husband.

The soldiers pushed me out of the church and down the steps, so I was standing barefoot in the snow. I shifted from one foot to the other, trying to avoid the pain, but there was no use in it. Soon they were numb.

Lermentov came to stand beside me, capped and coated, looking down at my feet. It’s a long walk to the train,’ he said. ‘You may not last without shoes.’

I pretended not to hear, but Lermentov was already walking away as the guards herded me among the others. Lermentov was heading past the other prisoners to the village entrance, where a lone man was approaching on horseback. The soldier’s heavy coat and his budenovka were dusted with snow, and as he came close to where the people were huddled, pushing together for warmth, I recognised him as one of the men who had arrested me on the road into Sushne. He was the young man who had been uncomfortable with his comrade’s brutality. Andrei.

Andrei recognised me too, the expression in his face betrayed him, but he looked away as he dismounted and came close to speak to Lermentov.

The guards began to arrange the zeks into pairs, shoving us together, and I went where directed, keeping my eyes on Lermentov, wondering if I would be able to reach him before one of the guards shot me down. Compliant and malleable, I would surprise them, breaking ranks and heading straight for him. I put a hand into my pocket and felt the crushed metal cup, touching the sharp corner with one fingertip. There was so little for me to lose now. Perhaps I could reach the policeman and put the pointed edge to the soft hollow of his throat, force it into his flesh then take the pistol from his belt. Perhaps there was still a chance for me.

I felt adrenalin begin to surge, a vibrancy in my muscles as my body prepared itself, but it was as if Lermentov sensed it, and he turned his head to meet my gaze. The soldier who had ridden in on horseback was still taking to him, Lermentov nodding his head slightly as he listened, but his stare never left me. It was as if Lermentov and I were connected. He even continued to watch as he called over another soldier and gave instructions, the man hurrying away to carry out his orders.

And when the conversation with Andrei was complete, only then did Lermentov look to the ground, his lips pursed. His shoulders rose as he drew in a deep breath, then he walked in my direction.

‘Come.’ Lermentov took my arm and pulled me away from the others. ‘I have a surprise for you.’ He turned me round and gestured to the soldier he had instructed just a few moments ago. The young man was now returning along the frozen street with Dariya at his side.

‘Your daughter,’ Lermentov said. ‘Or should I say, your niece? Go on.’ He released his grip and I went straight to Dariya, crouching to her level, ignoring the pain in my feet. I fastened her sheepskin coat around her and took her head in my hands, turning it so we were looking at each other.

‘It’s me. Everything’s going to be all right.’

For a moment there was no response from her at all. She didn’t even blink.

I moved close to her, leaning in to whisper into her ear. ‘I’ve come to take you home. I promised Lara. I promised her I’d bring you home. Remember Lara. Remember her.’

And Dariya “pressed her head against my face. Her cold ear against my lips. The side of her head against my forehead. And when she put her arm around me, I knew she remembered. Beneath everything that had happened to her, she remembered who I was.

I held her tight, pulling her right into me and holding her for a long time. Only when the guards began to move, shouting for us to make a line, did I finally release her.

I stood, and even then Dariya put her arms around my legs as if she would never let me go.

‘I don’t know if you’re a brave man or a stupid man,’ Lermentov said. ‘The soldier I was talking to told me they found another village. Vyriv, it’s called. It’s small, well hidden, and there wasn’t much there. Some food supplies which have been taken.’

I said nothing.

‘And he told me something else. Something that’s of no consequence to me but might interest you. Apparently a girl was taken from the village.’ He looked down at Dariya. ‘She was taken from the village and some of the men went to bring her back. A soldier and his two sons. So which are you, Luka Mikhailovich Sidorov? The child taker or the one who went to bring her back?’

Tears came to my eyes, a heavy sadness to my heart. They had found Vyriv. ‘My wife?’ I said. ‘What about my wife? My sons?’

‘Don’t ask me what I can’t tell you. Maybe you’ll see them again when you get to the train, maybe you won’t.’ He shook his head. ‘You let us think you had harmed this girl, and you did it to protect a tiny piece of land and a few peasants in this frozen shit hole. Like I said, I don’t know if you’re brave or stupid. But either way it doesn’t make any difference.’

‘But you know I’ve done nothing wrong. You know.’

Lermentov shrugged. ‘You lied. You had a weapon. It’s enough.’

‘Take Dariya home. Please.’

‘There’s no going home now. Not for you, not for me, not for any of us. Work is all there is now. Everyone is a worker.’

‘She’s just a child.’

‘It doesn’t make any difference.’ He looked away, watching the other prisoners. ‘She has fingers, she can work. It’s just the way it is now. There’s nothing I can do.’

‘Would you do it to your own daughter?’

Still he wouldn’t look at us. Instead he waved his hands at the guards. ‘Go,’ he said. ‘Get these prisoners to the train.’

‘Where are we to go? Where are you sending us?’

‘Work. You’re being marched to the transit prison at the station and then you’ll be taken for work.’

‘Where?’

‘What does it matter? It’s all there is, but at least you’ll be together.’ He looked at me. ‘You asked how long you have been here.’

‘Yes.’

‘Two days. You’ve been here two days.’

‘It feels like longer.’

‘It always does.’ He turned and began to walk away, one of the soldiers coming to push me and Dariya into line with the others.

As he ascended the church steps, Lermentov stopped and looked back. ‘Someone give that man some socks and boots,’ he said.

Then he went into the church and closed the heavy door behind him.