Klim made his way back to the station entrance. He needed to take a breath, to calm down. Oscar Reich still hadn’t left Moscow, and all Klim had to do was just wait for him.
Traders from the countryside who had come into the city for the day were hurrying to catch trains out of town. Little boys ran about selling spare buttons, playing cards, and wire brushes for cleaning kerosene stoves.
At last, Klim saw Reich’s dark green Chevrolet—the only one of its kind in Moscow. The chauffeur jumped out and pulled back the front seat to let out a passenger in an expensive fawn coat.
Klim set off to greet him.
“Mister Reich, I’m so glad I caught you before you left! I want to send a letter to London. Would you mind posting it for me in Warsaw?”
Oscar shook him by the hand. “Good to see you. Let’s have the letter.”
Klim held out the unsealed envelope. “There’s nothing in it but postcards, so there won’t be any problem with customs. Take a look if you like.”
“The customs men won’t bother me anyway.”
Klim gave a tense smile, unsure how to steer the conversation around so that he could ask what he was dying to ask.
“I wonder… I wanted to…” Klim did not finish.
Giving her hand to the chauffeur, an elegant woman in a luxurious fur coat with a small felt hat pulled down over her forehead, emerged from the car.
It was Nina.
“Klim…” she whispered, her hand to her mouth. A large diamond ring glittered on her finger.
Oscar turned and handed Nina the envelope. “Could you put this into my briefcase, darling? By the way, Mr. Rogov, have you met my wife? We were married only a week ago.”
Klim, still smiling, murmured some suitably polite words, thanking Oscar and wishing him a pleasant journey. He even managed to bow to Nina, who stood dumbstruck, staring at him.
“You must call in on us when I get back from Europe,” said Oscar and turned to the chauffeur. “Are the suitcases already on the train? Then let’s get on. I haven’t much time.”
Klim turned on his heel and walked away.
Idiot! he cursed himself. Why did you have to come here? Why did you come chasing after that… that…. He was lost for words.
A young driver in a leather coat came rushing up. “Taxi! Where can I take you, sir?”
Klim looked at him blankly. “To Chistye Prudy.”
“With pleasure, sir. In you get!”
Klim got into the back seat and was about to close the door when Nina came running up.
“Please don’t go, for God’s sake!” she cried, panting for breath.
Without looking her way, Klim tugged the door shut.
“Drive on,” he told the driver.
“Who was that young lady?” asked the driver as they came out onto the Garden Ring.
“Just some tramp,” said Klim without expression.
He felt as a bomb had fallen straight into his heart, leaving nothing but a heap of smoking ruins.
Galina rang Tata and told her she would be late back from work. She had decided that she would not leave the house until she had made it up with Klim.
Galina put Kitty to bed and then, in order to get the servant out of the way, suggested that Kapitolina go to a Christmas service.
“Ever so grateful to you, ma’am!” Kapitolina said and a moment later ran off to church.
The minutes went by, and still, there was no Klim. Galina heated up the iron on the stove, spread a blanket on the kitchen table, and began to iron the linen. All sorts of anxious thoughts swarmed in her head. Something important had happened, clearly—otherwise, Klim would never have left Kitty right after some maniac had tried to kidnap her.
At half past nine, there was a ring at the door bell, but it turned out to be a dashing courier in a smart overcoat and a gray astrakhan hat with a red star. He held out a thick envelope decorated with the Soviet state emblem.
“Sign for this please, ma’am,” he said.
Galina stared in awe at the large wax seal. “What’s this?”
“Special delivery from the Kremlin,” said the courier.
He got her signature, snapped a salute, and was gone.
Galina threw her coat over her shoulders, grabbed her cigarettes, and went out around the back of the building for a smoke. Just between its windowless wall and the fence of the neighboring house, there was a secluded spot where she could enjoy her cigarette without fear that Klim would come across her.
What if he doesn’t marry me after all? she thought fretfully.
It was quiet and dark all around. The wind was whipping up clouds of glittering snow, and the clear winter stars hung motionless overhead.
Galina went back inside. Taking the pile of freshly ironed linen, she walked into the living room, turned on the light, and gasped. “Good lord!”
Klim was sitting on the windowsill, his arms folded over his chest.
“I didn’t hear you come in,” said Galina.
He did not look at her. His shoulders were oddly hunched as if it hurt him to move.
“Kitty and I are leaving the country,” he said in a strange voice.
Galina stood aghast, the linen falling out of her hands. “Are you being expelled?”
“No.”
“Is Owen getting rid of you?”
Klim dismissed her with an irritated gesture. “No, it’s not that.”
Galina saw that there was no point in plying Klim with questions—he was obviously not going to explain.
“But you can’t just leave,” she said miserably. “You have a contract! You’ve paid the rental on your apartment in advance!”
“That’s nothing. It doesn’t matter.”
“What about me? Am I nothing to you too?” asked Galina, going up to Klim and looking into his eyes. “Don’t you understand that if you do this, you’ll destroy everything? Everything I have?”
“Spare me the hysterics, please!” said Klim through gritted teeth. “That’s the last thing I need.”
“Can’t you see after all this time?” she asked quietly. “I love you!”
He looked at her for a long while and then suddenly pulled her toward him. Shivering with fear and unexpected joy, Galina kissed him.
As Klim led her to the divan, she turned out the light. She was horribly ashamed of her scar and of her old, darned underclothes.
Galina lay beside Klim listening to him breathing. It was difficult to believe what had just happened.
What now? she thought. Would Klim really leave the country? No, that was impossible. He would never have done all that if he wanted to go. That would have been too dishonorable, and Klim is an honorable man.
Galina felt the urge for a smoke but did not dare breathe a word to Klim about cigarettes.
“You should go home,” he said. “Tata is probably out of her mind with worry.”
Galina closed her eyes for a moment. Was Klim throwing her out? Or was he really concerned about Tata?
“Yes, I’m going. I’m going.” She kissed Klim on the cheek and stood up.
It seemed there was something left unsaid. She wanted to explain to him how she felt, but there was only one thought in her head: Please don’t leave me!
Klim reached for his trousers on the floor.
“I’ll tell Afrikan to hire a cab for you,” he said. “You shouldn’t walk about alone at night.”
He switched on the desk lamp, and Galina’s fear grew—she saw no sign of tenderness, no interest in his eyes; nothing but a look of painful, inscrutable misery.
As Galina was getting dressed, Klim began to sort through the post on his desk. His movements were more abrupt than usuaclass="underline" he tossed the envelopes to one side carelessly, and a couple fell at Galina’s feet.