right. They’ll realise Alexei’s innocent and let him go. He’s got nothing to hide. Let’s wait and see what happens.’
‘Wait for what? For Alexei to die?’
‘He won’t die. Trust me. They have no proof. Nothing to link him with the murder.’
Natasha stroked Lisa’s head, trying to convince her sister that everything was going to be alright. Trying to convince herself that everything was going to be alright.
*
Natasha barely slept at all that night. As she listened to her sister sob on her bed hour after heart-wrenching hour, she couldn’t see straight through her guilt and her remorse. Should she have told Lisa the truth? Should she have done more to help Alexei? She thought of meeting him for the first time, over a year ago, thought of Lisa’s smile as she introduced them. Of Alexei playing pranks on them on their family trip to Lvov, when he had placed a live frog under Natasha’s pillow. Lisa had found it hopping around their tent, and her screams could be heard all the way to Kiev. Alexei was like another mischievous younger brother, and Natasha loved him dearly. How could she not help him?
But to betray Mark after he had saved her life? She couldn’t do that, either. Besides, Alexei was innocent, while Mark wasn’t. Why would the Gestapo punish Alexei for something he didn’t do? It didn’t make sense. Mark was an entirely different story, however. Natasha shuddered as she imagined what the Gestapo would do to him if they knew it was him who had shot the officer in the park. As Natasha tossed and turned and wished she was deaf so she wouldn’t hear her sister cry, she whispered like a mantra to herself, ‘He doesn’t need my help. He’ll be fine. He hasn’t done anything wrong.’ If only she kept repeating it long enough, she could make herself believe it.
Early in the morning, the girls thought they heard a soft knock, but when they rushed to the door, there was no one outside. It was still dark outside, but instead of going back to bed, they got dressed and hurried to Alexei’s apartment, even though Natasha suspected he wouldn’t go back there. No one was waiting for him at home.
Lisa had a key to Alexei’s flat, but her hands shook so badly she couldn’t fit it in the lock. Natasha took the key, patted Lisa’s hand, and opened the door.
The apartment was empty.
Lisa went from room to room, searching for him. When she realised he wasn’t there, she slid into a chair and hid her head in her hands. Suddenly she looked spent, like a deflated balloon, without air and without hope. Nothing was left, not even the strength to walk. Helplessly, she cried.
‘Come on, Lisa,’ said Natasha. ‘Let’s go to the gendarmerie. We’ll tell them it wasn’t Alexei.’
‘Will they believe us?’
‘I don’t know. But we have to try. You were with Alexei when Babushka and I… When the officer was killed in the park. We’ll tell them that. Mama can confirm our story. Papa, too. He’s a respectable man, a captain in the militia. If they don’t believe us, surely they’ll believe him?’
Lisa didn’t reply, but her eyes sparkled with hope and determination. No longer crying, she walked so fast, Natasha could barely keep up. It took them three quarters of an hour to reach the corner of Proreznaya and Kreshchatyk. It was still early, and the streets were deserted. The heavy metal door of what until recently had been the Children’s World store was closed and padlocked. The sisters waited.
After about an hour a young woman walked up the stairs, fiddled with the lock, and pulled the door with both hands. Natasha thought the woman looked familiar. ‘Katya, is that you? What are you doing here?’ Katya was the older sister of one of Natasha’s friends.
There was something different about Katya. It wasn’t her face, made up to perfection as always, or the way she wore her hair, straight down her back, or the way she dressed, in strict, understated clothes. No, it was something in her eyes. She said, ‘I work as a receptionist. What are you doing here?’
Lisa emitted a scornful snort. ‘Working for the Germans?’ she demanded and was about to say something else when Natasha pinched her forearm with all the strength she could muster. ‘Ouch,’ muttered Lisa. Natasha looked around. The street was still empty. She leaned closer and in a loud whisper related everything she knew about Alexei. Even before Katya had a chance to reply, Natasha could tell by the way her chubby face contorted that the news wasn’t good.
‘You’re too late,’ said Katya. ‘They hanged them at dawn. Hanged them all.’
Natasha gasped. She felt her sister’s hand go limp in hers. Lisa moaned and sank to the pavement.
‘Their bodies are still in the park for everyone to see.’
Natasha covered her ears. She didn’t want to hear. Her chest was burning as if a sharp object was lodged there.
Katya continued, ‘Go home, girls. There’s nothing you can do.’ Not looking at the sisters’ faces, she quickly disappeared inside, shutting the door behind her.
‘No,’ Lisa howled. ‘No.’
‘I’m sorry, Lisa. I’m so sorry,’ repeated Natasha, clutching Lisa’s shaking body tightly to herself, while inside her head, a voice repeated, It’s all my fault, it’s all my fault.
Lisa sobbed and didn’t reply.
‘Come on, Lisa,’ said Natasha, in vain trying to lift her sister off the pavement. ‘Let’s go home.’
Lisa shook her head, staring into distance.
‘Let’s go, Lisa, get up.’ It’s all my fault, it’s all my fault, like a broken record in her head.
‘Leave me alone,’ whispered Lisa, shivering.
Natasha pulled and shoved but failed to move her sister. She sat next to her, hugging her close. ‘I’m so sorry, Lisa,’ she repeated, almost choking on her tears.
Silently they sat.
‘I wish the person who did this would die,’ said Lisa finally, her voice hollow.
‘They’ll pay for everything they’ve done. You’ll see. They have to.’
‘No, I don’t mean the Nazis. The person who killed the officer in the park. Alexei died because of him.’
‘Lisa, not because of him!’ Natasha inhaled sharply. She found it difficult to speak. Her throat was too dry. ‘It wasn’t his fault. He did it to help us. He saved our lives. Me, Babushka, we wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for him.’
‘If he came forward, Alexei would still be alive.’
‘I’m sure he didn’t know about… about this.’ If Mark had known about this, he would have confessed. Wouldn’t he? ‘If you want to blame someone, blame the Germans.’
‘I blame you. It’s your fault.’
‘You don’t mean that. You’re upset. Let me take you home,’ said Natasha, putting her arm around Lisa. Lisa pulled away and got up, slowly walking down Kreshchatyk. Natasha followed her. Lisa didn’t speak when they reached Taras Shevchenko Boulevard. When they were walking past the
