Raisa was at the far end of the platform, hidden in the gloom. It took an enormous effort not to run and grab her hands. Catching his breath, he was trying to think of what to say. He glanced at himself — he was a mess, sweating, filthy. But she wasn’t even looking at him: she was looking over his shoulder. Leo turned around. Thick bursts of smoke were rising over the tree tops. The delayed train was approaching.
Leo had imagined taking time over his apology, finding the correct words, being eloquent. However, right now he had a matter of seconds to convince her. His words stumbled out.
— I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking. I grabbed you but that wasn’t me — or it wasn’t the person I want to be.
Hopeless — he had to do better. Slow down, concentrate — he’d get one shot at this.
— Raisa, you want to leave me. You’re right to want to leave me. I could tell you how difficult it would be on your own. How you might get stopped, questioned, arrested. How you don’t have the right paperwork. You’d be a vagrant. But that’s not a reason to stay with me. I know that you’d rather take your chances.
— Paperwork can be faked, Leo. I’d rather fake that than this marriage.
There it was. The marriage was a sham. All Leo’s words dried up. The train came to a halt alongside them. Raisa’s face was impassive. Leo stepped out of her way. She moved towards the carriage. Could he let her go? Over the sound of grinding brakes, Leo raised his voice:
— The reason I didn’t denounce you wasn’t because I believed you were pregnant and it had nothing to do with me being a good person. I did it because my family is the only part of my life that I’m not ashamed of.
To Leo’s surprise Raisa turned around.
— Where does it come from, this overnight enlightenment? It feels cheap. Having been stripped of your uniform, your office, your power, you now have to make do with me. Is that it? Something which was never very important to you before — us — becomes important because you find yourself with nothing else?
— You don’t love me, I know that. But there was a reason we got married, there was something between us, some connection. We’ve lost that. I’ve lost that. We can find it again.
Carriage doors were opening, a handful of passengers were disembarking. Time was running out. Raisa looked at the carriage, weighing up her choices. They were pitiful. She had no friends to run to, no family who could shelter her, no money and no means of supporting herself. She didn’t even have a ticket. Leo was right in his analysis. If she left, she’d probably get picked up by the authorities. She felt exhausted at the thought of it. She looked at her husband. They had nothing except each other, whether they liked each other or not.
She put down her case. Leo smiled, obviously believing them to be reconciled. Annoyed with this idiotic interpretation, she raised her hand, cutting short his smile.
— I married you because I was scared, scared that if I rejected your advances I’d be arrested, maybe not immediately but at some point, on some pretext. I was young, Leo, and you were powerful. That is the reason we got married. That story you tell about me pretending that my name was Lena? You find that story funny, romantic? I gave you a false name because I was worried you’d track me down. What you took for seduction, I took for surveillance. Our relationship was built out of fear. Maybe not from your point of view — you have no reason to fear me, what power did I have? What power have I ever had? You asked me to marry you and I acquiesced because that’s what people do. They put up with things; they tolerate in order to survive. You never hit me or shouted at me, you were never drunk. So, on balance, I reckoned that I was luckier than most. When you grabbed my neck, Leo, you removed the only reason I had for staying with you.
The train pulled out. Leo watched it go, trying to digest what she’d said. But she gave him no pause, speaking as though these words had been forming in her head over many years. Now, tapped, they were flowing freely.
— The problem with becoming powerless, as you are now, is that people start telling you the truth. You’re not used to it, you’ve lived in a world protected by the fear you inspire. But if we’re going to stay together, let’s cut the deluded romanticism. Circumstance is the glue between us. I have you. You have me. We don’t have very much else. And if we’re going to stay together, from now on I tell you the truth, no comfortable lies — we’re equal as we have never been equal before. You can take it or I can wait for the next train.
Leo had no reply. He was unprepared, outgunned, outspoken. In the past he’d used his position to get better accommodation, better food. He hadn’t imagined he’d used it to get a wife too. Her voice softened a little.
— There are so many things to be afraid of. You can’t be one of them.
— I never will again.
— I’m cold, Leo. I’ve been standing on this platform for three hours. I’m going back to our room. Are you coming?
No, he didn’t feel like walking back, side by side, a chasm between them.
— I’m going to stay here for a bit. I’ll see you back there.
Carrying her case, Raisa returned to the station building. Leo sat on the bench, staring into the forest. He shuffled through the memories of their relationship, re-examining each one, adjusting his understanding, rewriting his past.
He’d been sitting there for he didn’t know how long when he became aware of someone standing to the side of him. He looked up. It was the man from the ticket office, a youngish man, the man they’d met on their arrival.
— Sir, there are no more trains tonight.
— Do you have a cigarette?
— I don’t smoke. I could get you one from our apartment. It’s just upstairs.
— No, that’s OK. Thank you anyway.
— I’m Aleksandr.
— Leo. Do you mind if I stay here for a bit?
— Not at all, let me get you that cigarette.
Before Leo could answer, the young man had hurried off.
Leo sat back and waited. He saw a wooden hut set back from the tracks. That was the place where the girl’s body had been found. He could make out the edge of the forest, the crime scene — snow trampled down by detectives, photographers, investigative lawyers — all studying that dead girl, her mouth open, stuffed with soil.
Struck by a thought Leo stood up, hurried forward, lowering himself off the platform, crossing the tracks and heading towards the trees. Behind him a voice called out:
— What are you doing?
He turned around and saw Aleksandr standing on the edge of the platform, holding a cigarette. He gestured for him to follow.
Leo reached the area where the snow had been trodden down. There were criss-crossing boot tracks in all directions. He entered the forest, walking for a couple of minutes, arriving at roughly the area where he supposed the body must have laid. He crouched down. Aleksandr caught up with him. Leo looked up.
— You know what happened here?