Nikolai Nikolayevich nodded sadly.
“Of course, of course. But here’s the thing…”
He explained the problem to Nina. Her father had not left anyone a power of attorney necessary to manage the company. Without one, Nikolai Nikolayevich could not withdraw any money from the company’s bank account in order even to pay the employees the wages they had earned.
“Nina Yevgenievna, you’re visiting him often. Could you possibly settle that?”
Nina promised to see about that.
When she was about to leave, she said on an impulse, “Nikolai Nikolayevich, strictly between you and me – the company will possibly be sold. Can you make up a list of employees who you think must be kept?”
“So that’s it,” muttered Nikolai Nikolayevich. “That’s how things are. All right… I get it.”
Stunned by what he had heard, he dragged himself to a desk, took a leaf of paper and put down a dozen names.
“Thank you,” Nina said, taking the leaf from him.
She took a pen and put in the name of Nikolai Nikolayevich at the top of the list.
“Listen to me, Nikolai Nikolayevich,” said Nina. “The terms of the sale, including those concerning the employees, will depend on what state the company is in. That’s why it’s important that the business should not fall apart. Forget about the main project but do whatever it takes to keep the rest of them going. Do you understand me?”
The engineer nodded despondently.
Some decision had to be made – there was no point in putting it off. The only solution was to sell the company to Gradstroiinvest. That was as clear as day to Nina, but it was also clear that her father would never agree to that. He was still the only decision-maker of his company, but could he, in his condition, assess the situation correctly? “Of course, not,” Nina answered herself with bitterness. “Even before the stroke, he could hardly assess anything correctly. Oh, papa, papa…”
Her father hardly ever spoke about business matters – apparently, they did not concern him in the least, as if his disease had freed him from all earthly worries. Meanwhile, urgent measures were necessary to rescue what little capital he had left in the form of his company. Nikolai Nikolayevich was only capable of keeping up the current operations – he had neither the ability nor the authority to make strategic changes. But even if Yevgeniy Borisovich himself returned to work, what could he do? Acting through its bloodhound Gradstroiinvest, Gradbank had won a clear-cut victory over him so that no resistance was possible. Clearly, Gradbank was able to strip his company of all its projects, and if that had not been done yet, it was because Gradbank was preserving the business for itself. Still, Gradbank would not wait for much longer.
Nina realized that she had to act, but how? Her father was hiding in his decease, refusing to face the reality, and the doctor strictly forbade agitating him. Knowing her father, Nina could not imagine herself bringing up the question of selling the company – it would be the worst possible stress for him. It appeared that she only had two choices – she either withdrew, thus letting her father’s company dwindle to nothing in no time, or tried to get him to agree to selling the company at the risk of… yes, at the risk of killing him.
Nina was gripped in that impossible choice as in a vice. The worst of it was that she seemed to be doomed to become a traitress. If she made her father sell the company, he would never forgive her. And if she let the company go bust, she would never forgive herself.
She phoned in sick and spent a whole day at home. In fact, she was sick. Her continual mental anguish gave her a bad headache which aspirin would not relieve. An idle day filled with headache was followed by a sleepless night. About three in the morning, tired of tossing and turning in her bed, she shifted to the chair and sat there until dawn, her hands gripping the arms of the chair while her eyes were fixed on the mutely flickering TV set. Never in her life had she felt so lonely. Who was there for her to turn to? She would like to ask advice of Ignatiy Savelievich but what could her colleague do to help her? He had already done a lot. And what right did she have to burden an old, sick man with her concerns? Her friends, whom Nina was seeing occasionally, were useless in such matters. Nina thought of Igor, but Igor had long vanished from her life. Had he ever been part of her life, anyway? Nina was in need of somebody strong and wise to lean on and cry out all her woes to. Somebody who would soothe her and sort out everything for her. Yet there was no such person. She did not have anyone – she was alone in the entire world – and loneliness pierced her like a steel needle.
Nina came to the hospital and found Lydia Grigorievna there. Her father was sleeping, and his wife was busy embroidering his initials on the breast-pocket of his new silk pajamas.
“Nina, are you all right? You look awful,” the woman asked worriedly at the sight of Nina’s pallid face.
“It’s nothing, Lydia Grigorievna. I just didn’t sleep well. I need to talk to you,” Nina said in a whisper trying not to wake her father.
Lydia Grigorievna nodded understandingly, put aside the pajamas, and whispered, “Let’s go downstairs. I was just going to have a coffee.”
They went down to the cafeteria, took a cup of bad coffee each, and sat at a table covered by a none-too-clean table cloth.
Lydia Grigorievna was stirring her coffee with a spoon waiting for Nina to speak.
“Lydia Grigorievna, we need to do something,” said Nina. “I mean the company.”
“Company! Let it burn!” Lydia Grigorievna cried out jerking up her head. Clearly, Nina touched what was a sore point for the woman. “This damned company brings nothing but misfortunes. How happy we could be without it!”
Lydia Grigorievna tossed down her spoon in a fit of temper. It was the first time Nina saw the woman in such agitation.
“Nina, you don’t think I married your father for money, do you? I don’t want any money. I used to live on kopecks, I’m not afraid of poverty.”
“Lydia Grigorievna, please, calm down,” Nina said and, on an impulse, stroked the woman’s hand.
When her father’s wife had calmed down a little, Nina said the important thing. “Lydia Grigorievna, I think that it’s necessary to sell the company, but I don’t know how to persuade papa to do it.”
“Sell – to whom?” asked Lydia Grigorievna. It turned out that she knew nothing of the proposal by Gradstroiinvest.
Nina explained the matter to her in a few words.
“So that’s it?” cried out Lydia Grigorievna. “All this horror is about that? Ah, Zhenya, Zhenya! Keeping me in the dark – how nice is that? …”
She was shaking her head, holding it in her hands.
“If only he had told me, I would’ve managed to talk him into it.”
Nina rather doubted that, but she was pleased to see that another soul was worried about her father as much as she was.
“But there’s no way we can take it up with him now,” said Lydia Grigorievna with conviction. “Do you agree, Nina?”
“I do,” Nina uttered mechanically. She was still having a headache, and every word took her a lot of effort to say.
“We wait. Things will get fixed somehow in time. The main thing now is to give him every care and attention. Right?”
“Yes, that’s right – except for the small matter of him losing the company and not getting a penny out of it,” Nina thought.
Aloud, she said, “Lydia Grigorievna, it is necessary that papa make out a power of attorney so that Nikolai Nikolayevich can conduct the current operations.”
“A power of attorney?” Lydia Grigorievna reflected. “Can Nikolai Nikolayevich use it to sell the company?”
“No. That would take a general power of attorney which papa will not give to anyone, I’m sure. What I am talking about is a limited power of attorney good for running the daily business of the company. Papa can give it to Nikolai Nikolayevich or to you, it does not matter. Somebody has to sign the payroll.”