The chairman of the committee, himself an engineer, knew all that perfectly well. And yet, as if playing some evil game, he went on slashing the project, distorting shamelessly the true facts.
Summarizing, he said, turning to Nina’s father, “You let us down, Yevgeniy Borisovich – you did, in a big way. I didn’t expect that of you. Now I really don’t know how all this mess can be sorted out. Honestly, if it were someone else but you, I would just kick them out and throw the book at them. But out of my good feelings for you…” His face and tone expressed his righteous indignation, and at the same time, his wise humaneness. He turned to the members of the committee, “I believe, we should grant our contractor a deferral so he can fix the said faults. Two months must be sufficient. In any case, we cannot afford a longer delay. So, I move a two-month deferral. Will the members of the committee vote, please.”
The ‘faults’ that the chairman had listed could not be fixed in two years, let alone two months. That was sheer mockery. Trying to protest, Nina’s father opened his mouth, but no words issued from it.
In total silence, the members of the committee raised their hands one by one. That was the end of the project and the end of the company of Yevgeniy Borisovich Kisel.
Even if there had been some speaking going on around, Nina’s father would not have heard it because of a furious, deafening pulse that was pounding in his ears. Then a voice in his head said loudly, “Gradbank.”
That word struck him like a sledge hammer. He saw the chairman and all the members of the committee slide most weirdly backwards and upwards. The briefcase which he had been clasping dropped out of his hand, and the papers got scattered about. Then Yevgeniy Borisovich saw a table leg just before his nose and realized that he was lying on the floor. Then everything went dark.
Chapter 9
Yevgeniy Borisovich was recovering slowly. First, the danger to his life was over, then he regained his memory, and gradually, his speech. He was in control of his body, although his left arm and left leg did not obey him very well.
He was transferred from the critical care unit to a regular ward. The money had its effect, and he was placed in a small, two-bed room rather than a common, six-bed one. For a neighbor, Nina’s father had a man who had had a bypass surgery. The man was recovering, too, so the atmosphere in the room was not bad.
Nina and Lydia Grigorievna visited their patient every day – by turns, or sometimes, together. The doctor hardly talked to them – he had a lot of new concerns on his mind. “It’s all right,” he would reply to their questions. “Everything should be all right now. You know, you should consider yourself lucky – things could’ve been much worse. You’re doing the right thing by visiting him. He needs to be talked to. But of course, he must not be agitated.”
Lydia Grigorievna established her own order in the room – she cleaned it herself, replaced the grey, threadbare hospital sheets with some good ones which she brought from home, put some flowers in a vase and then changed them every day. “All that is important. Small things like that are very important,” she kept telling Nina. And, of course, she was feeding Yevgeniy Borisovich herself – having agreed the menu with the doctor, she was cooking everything at home and bringing the food to the hospital in small pots.
Following the doctor’s recommendation, Lydia Grigorievna did a lot of talking to her husband; in fact, she would have done that without any recommendations. Sitting by his bed and holding his hand, she talked for hours – about the weather, her cooking plans for the next day, and so forth – just about anything that came to her head.
Yevgeniy Borisovich hardly ever made any response – it was hard for him to speak, and maybe, he was not inclined to, either. Without taking away his hand, he kept gazing at the ceiling – either listening to his wife, or being immersed in some thoughts of his own. After he told Lydia Grigorievna and Nina what had happened at the committee session, he never talked about that again – in fact, he never referred to the project, his company or anything that was outside the hospital walls. Whenever he opened his mouth, he spoke about something very specific and momentary such as another pillow he wanted to be put under his head, the meal brought by his wife or a sparrow chirping outside the window. Lydia Grigorievna kept watching his face anxiously trying to detect signs of mental anguish or depression. However, the man’s face did not reflect anything at all – it looked aloof and serene.
Nina did not possess Lydia Grigorievna’s talent for idle talk. Also, she had had little contact with her father in recent years and was at a loss not knowing what to talk to him about. She tried reading to him instead – she read stuff from papers and magazines or just anything that fell into her hands. Her father did not seem to mind her reading but he hardly listened to her and barely responded when she said goodbye to go home.
When the first fear for the life of Yevgeniy Borisovich had passed, the question arose which nobody wanted to let into their mind let alone discuss openly. The company. What was going to become of it? What were they supposed to do? Nina’s father would not breathe a word about it – as if he had clean forgotten that he owned a business in which he had invested years of his life and all his means.
Nina phoned Nikolai Nikolayevich, her father’s assistant in the company. That was an engineer of the same age and the same background as Yevgeniy Borisovich – formerly, the two had worked in the syndicate together. Nikolai Nikolayevich was a pure technician – he did not know the first thing about business. When Yevgeniy Borisovich was in the office, the man was always on some site or other, so Nina barely knew him. With Nina’s father in hospital, Nikolai Nikolayevich took over the company’s current affairs.
When she learned that the company was not left unattended, Nina calmed down a little. In contrast, Nikolai Nikolayevich spoke very anxiously. He asked Nina for an immediate meeting.
The moment Nina stepped into the office, the engineer rushed to her. “What a misfortune, Nina Yevgenievna! We here are out of our mind with worry for Yevgeniy Borisovich! Believe me, not only we respect your father – we love him, too…”
“Yes, sure, thank you, Nikolai Nikolayevich,” Nina replied absent-mindedly. She had a lot on her mind and was not in the mood for exchanging sympathies. “Tell me, how are things with the company? How are the works going on?”
“The works…” The engineer sighed heavily. “Why don’t we sit down, Nina Yevgenievna?”
He sank into a chair. Nina sat beside him.
Nikolai Nikolayevich put Nina in the picture. According to him, he had managed to maintain the works on all the projects except for the main one – the one that had been killed by the committee. Nothing was being done on the big project, and nobody knew what should or could be done.
“You know, Nina Yevgenievna, I’ve visited Yevgeniy Borisovich in the hospital. You didn’t know? I have, they let me in for five minutes. I expected him to give me some instructions.”
“Did he?” asked Nina.
“At first, I thought he did not recognize me,” the engineer recounted dejectedly. “But then I saw that he did – he even called me by my name. But he didn’t say a word about work. Do you know what he said to me? He said that I should take care of my health – relax, take long walks… As if I had time for walks now!”
The man kept silent for a while, then plucked up his courage and asked, “Tell me, Nina Yevgenievna, what’s going to happen now? The company is in for shutdown? The men are going to lose their jobs?”
Nina had expected those questions, but she did not have any answers to them.
“I don’t know, Nikolai Nikolayevich. Honestly, I don’t know. I hope, things will sort themselves out soon. For the time being, please carry on doing what you can.”