From under the arc, they got into a through-passage yard, then onto a boulevard.
“That’s it,” Kolya said applying the brakes. “Those fellas are going to get stuck there. Their jeeps can’t make it through the arc – they’re forty centimeters wider than that.” He smiled a satisfied smile and patted the dashboard of his car. “Mark my words, Volga is the best. All it takes to make it run is to overhaul the engine.”
Kolya turned to Samsonov and Nina: “They’ll have to go around the block, so we have a couple of minutes. Let’s say goodbyes.”
“Aren’t you coming with us?” asked Pavel Mikhailovich. “Your car’s going to be hunted for, so you have to dump it.”
“Dump such a great car? Not for the world,” Kolya laughed. “It’s going to run another hundred years.”
“What are you up to?” asked Pavel Mikhailovich.
“I’ll play cat-and-mouse with them for a bit. That’ll give you time to get lost.”
“Don’t be a fool, Nikolai! Come with us – we’ll find somewhere to sit it out together. I’ll buy you five cars such as this afterwards.”
“No way, Pavel Mikhailovich. And don’t you give me orders – reckon me quit. I have my own scores to settle with those bastards. They broke my rear window, see? Where am I going to find another one like that?”
“Where are you going then?” asked Samsonov.
Kolya scratched his head.
“Here’s what – I guess it’s time for me to visit the northern capital. Some guys that I know live there. We did some great racing together at one time. We’ll have a meet and talk motor club.”
Samsonov sighed: “Really, aren’t you a fool? … Let me at least hug you.” He hugged the guy. “Don’t you even think of getting yourself into trouble…”
Kolya freed himself.
“It’s all right, Pavel Mikhailovich… And another thing – give me your cell phone. They’re going to spot it, and it’s just as well. Cat-and-mouse it’s gonna be.”
Samsonov handed his driver his phone along with the gun. He and Nina got out of the car.
“Practice motorsport!” Kolya cried to them from the window of his Volga. On his face was his usual, boyish smile.
He stepped on the gas pedal and in a couple of seconds the car was gone.
Chapter 9
Samsonov and Nina were sitting on a boulevard bench. It was late in the evening, and the sky was already studded with stars. The day’s warmth was going rapidly, a cold, autumn night setting in.
Nina did not want to go anywhere. She felt good, lacking only for Pavel Mikhailovich to embrace her which was expected of all lovers sitting on boulevard benches in the evening.
But Pavel Mikhailovich was motionless. Nina saw suddenly that he was nodding. The enormous tension of the past days had prevailed finally over that strong man.
Nina took him by the hand.
Samsonov woke up.
“Where are you going now, Nina? Home? … Oh, no, you can’t go home. They’ve seen us together and are capable of visiting your place, too. Damn, it’s all my fault. I’ve drawn you into this mess…”
“You haven’t drawn me into any mess, and I’m not going anywhere,” declared Nina. “I’m staying with you.”
Samsonov rubbed his temples wearily.
“I don’t know whether I have anywhere to go myself… Some hotel, maybe? I only need to hide until morning.”
Nina remembered how quickly Samsonov had been figured out by the tennis club manager on the glorious day of his first tennis practice.
“No, Pavel Mikhailovich, it’s not a good idea.”
Samsonov grinned: “Well, then, I’ll camp on this bench.”
“The police will pull you in.”
“Yeah, the police…”
It was clear that Samsonov was incapable of thinking even for the sake of saving his life.
Then a solution occurred to Nina.
“I know of a place for us to hide.”
“Where is that?” asked Samsonov.
“You’ll see. Trust me.”
Samsonov finally put his hand round her shoulders and bent his head towards her. Nina shifted on the bench trying to sit in such a way as to make the embracing convenient for him. If her man decided to open his feelings to her, any hindrances should be removed.
But Samsonov’s head was dropping uncontrollably.
“Nina, why are you taking so much trouble for me?” he mumbled falling asleep. “Everyone else has betrayed me and left me, but you…”
“I’m not leaving you, Pavel Mikhailovich.”
“Why?”
“Because I love you.”
There was no telling whether Samsonov got what she had said. Through the slumber that was seizing him, he murmured something. It seemed to Nina that he had said, “I love you, too…”
Thus they confessed their love to each other. It was very different from the romantic scenes that Nina had dreamed of, but it was neither the time nor the place to cherish her disappointment. She had to act.
Nina hailed a taxi. She bribed the driver and with his help, dragged Samsonov into the car.
“Railway station,” she said.
The suburban train was almost empty. As soon as he got seated, Samsonov dropped into sleep immediately again, with his head resting on Nina’s shoulder.
He was wearing a fisherman’s jacket and hat which Nina bought from some round-the-clock shop at the station. Of the same origin was a sleeping bag which Nina was holding, bundled up, on her knees. Samsonov and she looked like a couple of outdoor enthusiasts who were going to spend a nice day on some river, away from civilization. It was a bit odd though that they were going on their outing late on a Sunday night.
A middle-aged woman who was sitting across the aisle from them nodded at Samsonov disapprovingly: “Drunk?”
“No, just tired,” said Nina. “Works a lot.”
The woman was in a talkative mood.
“He’s kind of older than you, isn’t he?”
“He is,” admitted Nina. “But it’s all right, we are good.”
Not inclined to keep up the conversation, Nina leaned her head on Samsonov’s and closed her eyes.
“Yeah… The main thing is for the man not to drink,” the woman summarized with conviction.
At their destination train stop, they got lucky – in spite of the late hour, they managed to catch a car that took them directly to the dacha settlement.
Samsonov was still dozing in the car and woke up only when they arrived.
“Where are we, Nina?”
“It’s my parents’ dacha. Nobody’s going to find us here.”
Samsonov got out of the car and stretched his legs. It was a still, starry night. In the moonlight, the dacha looked picturesque and mysterious.
“A good house,” Samsonov said. “My parents used to have one just like this.”
With some difficulty, they opened the rusty lock and went in. Within, it was damp and smelled of mold.
“Nobody has lived here years since mama died years ago,” explained Nina.
The house had long been uninhabited, but it was fit for habitation. There was no electricity, but Nina found some candles. In the corner was a stove which her father had once built with great care, and there was even a pile of dry logs left over from old times.
They lit the candles and built a fire in the stove. The room became warm and cozy. Merry flickers of light danced on the walls and on their faces.
Samsonov went out to the water pump and came back with a pail of water. Nina found a copper kettle which her mother had once bought for their dacha. From her bag, some tea, sugar, and sandwiches appeared.
When they had made the tea and laid out their provisions on a piece of paper, they both felt suddenly that they were starving. Laughing, they devoured the sandwiches and gulped down the tea from large metal mugs which were almost too hot to hold between their palms. They barely talked, making only some joyful noises. They felt good.