‘Quiet, girls. What’s all this nonsense? This is not the time for silly games.’
‘You can’t tell anyone,’ Lisa whispered to Natasha. ‘Not even Mama. She’ll just tell Papa and he’ll kill me.’
Natasha had to pretend Lisa’s revelation was news to her, otherwise she would never be able to look at her sister without blushing again. At the memory of the night before, of Lisa’s tears and Alexei’s heartbreak as he told her he was leaving, Natasha felt an emptiness inside her that even her sister’s smile couldn’t fill. But for Lisa’s sake, she faked enthusiasm and said, ‘Wait a second. I didn’t hear anything last night. Where did you and Alexei…’
‘You were probably out like a light as always. We could have done it in your bed next to you and you wouldn’t even have blinked.’
‘You didn’t, did you?’
‘Of course not. Alexei snuck into my room at night.’
Natasha laughed. ‘You’re crazy, you know that? Anyone could’ve heard you.’
‘Well, it didn’t last very long. He was back in his bed in no time.’ There was a dreamy expression on Lisa’s face. ‘This is the most exciting thing that’s ever happened to me.’
‘I’m so excited for you,’ said Natasha, tickling Lisa. ‘Can I tell Olga?’
‘Argh, no tickling!’ cried Lisa, shoving Natasha’s hands away. ‘What did I just say? No one, not even Olga.’
‘Oh, come on. She’s my best friend. I can’t keep this from her.’
‘Okay. You can tell Olga and no one else. Promise.’ When Natasha half shrugged, half nodded, her sister continued, ‘I’m so in love, Natasha. I just can’t believe it. I think this is it, you know. I feel it.’
‘I should hope so. You are getting married, after all.’
‘Don’t worry. One day you’ll meet someone, too. Then you’ll know what I mean.’
Nikolai reappeared in the doorway. There was a mischievous grin on his face. ‘So how was it? Your first time? Did you enjoy it?’ Lisa roared and hit out at her brother, while he ran in the direction of the kitchen, shouting for help. Laughing, Natasha followed her siblings.
The whole family huddled around the kitchen table, talking, eating, drinking, and pretending their lives hadn’t come to a halt when Hitler’s Army Group South entered Kiev.
Natasha’s grandparents – her mother’s parents – were sitting pensively with their elbows on the table, meatballs and soup untouched in front of them. Only a year and a half ago, they had moved to Lvov, a beautiful old town west of Kiev, on the outskirts of Ukraine, just seventy kilometres from the Polish border. To Natasha, who had never been overseas, Lvov seemed exotic and almost European. On the first day of war, it had been bombed just like Kiev, but it was much closer to the front line and no longer safe. To Natasha’s delight, her grandparents had returned shortly after and were staying with them once more.
In July, to the disbelief of the Smirnovs, Lvov had fallen. And now, despite Stalin’s assurances to hold the Ukrainian capital at all costs, Kiev had followed suit.
*
Father was hidden behind a newspaper, but Natasha knew he wasn’t reading. He’d been staring at the same page for what seemed like forever. Finally, he folded the paper, took his glasses off and wiped them, as if doing so would enable him to see more clearly. ‘Who would have thought?’ he said. ‘Such a shock. Such an absolute shock.’
‘It was to be expected.’ Grandfather shrugged, downing his vodka and spooning mashed potatoes onto his and grandmother’s plates. ‘Hitler’s actions were predictable. I only wish Stalin saw that before it was too late.’ Before he retired, grandfather was a history professor at Taras Shevchenko University. He still approached every problem in life with the logic and precision that his profession required. It was thanks to his respected position at the university that the family had their large apartment on Tarasovskaya Street in central Kiev.
‘Deda, why were the Germans able to advance so quickly?’ asked Nikolai, his gaze not leaving his beloved grandfather’s face.
‘We believed in the non-aggression pact with Germany so much that we ignored countless warnings. As a result, we were completely unprepared for the attack.’
‘But the Red Army will come back. Comrade Stalin won’t let the enemy deep into the country,’ said Mother.
Grandfather shrugged. ‘After all the Soviet atrocities in Ukraine, no one wants to fight this war for the Bolsheviks. The rate of desertion is almost unheard of. Men are mutilating themselves to avoid mobilisation.’
Natasha nodded. She saw them on the streets of Kiev every day. Men with fake beards that made them look older. Limping men, men with broken arms. ‘Olga told me their neighbour tried to shoot himself in the foot. He missed and ended up killing himself.’
‘Germans in one of Russia’s most ancient cities! The idea is preposterous. No wonder Stalin’s been telling us until the end that Kiev will remain in Soviet hands,’ said Natasha’s grandmother, an older, miniature version of Natasha’s mother. She sighed and crossed herself, her face white with fear. Grandmother was deeply religious, something that even two and a half decades of Communist regime couldn’t change. During the Great War she had been a nurse, and sincerely believed God had protected her from the horrors she had witnessed on the front line. After the war she had worked in hospitals, first at Central Military in Kiev and then at the Children’s Hospital on Tereshchenkovskaya Street. When Natasha was a little girl, Grandmother often told her about the war and the horror it brought in its wake. The little Natasha had listened to the stories as if they were fairy tales that had no place in reality. Never had she imagined she would experience the horror first-hand.
‘They are here now. Stalin will have to accept it. There’s nothing he can do,’ said Grandfather.
‘Do we have to accept it?’ demanded Mother.
‘There’s nothing we can do,’ repeated Grandfather.
‘Stalin should have protected us better,’ whispered Natasha.
‘All these fires in Kiev,’ said Mother. ‘A friend of mine lives in a village nearby. She told me the Soviets confiscated all her crops, and then one day the tractors came to destroy the fields. Her neighbour threw herself in front of a tractor and was arrested by the NKVD. No one’s heard from her since.’
‘Scorched earth policy,’ said Grandfather. ‘Just like at the time of Napoleon’s invasion, the Soviet government destroyed everything that could be used by the enemy. Train stations, bridges, factories, power stations.’ Softly, as if hoping no one would hear, he added, ‘Food.’
‘But, Deda, we are still here. We need food.’ Natasha’s hands shook as she scooped potatoes with her spoon.
‘Speaking of food,’ said Grandmother, ‘I went to the water pump this morning and saw a notice glued to the wall of our building. The Nazis want us to hand in our food supplies. And our radio.’
Putting her spoon down, Mother said, ‘We can’t give our food away. It’s a death sentence. We need to hide it.’
Father
