They exchange glances that are both nervous and excited.
“I may be able to find good position for you in Amsterdam. Have you been to Amsterdam? It is a city of extraordinary beauty, built entirely on water. Like Venice, but even better.”
“I have see pictures,” says Chinese Girl Two. “Is more beautiful than Kuala Lumpur.”
“But no doubt you have boyfriends waiting for you back in China? You girls get up to all sorts of tricks, eh?” Vitaly’s voice has become suddenly low and sweet like honey. “You naughty Chinese girls sometimes sleeping with boyfriend, eh? Make nice love?” This is more like the old smilingly sinful Vitaly than the new businessman Vitaly, thinks Marta, though she is rather surprised by his questions.
“Not boyfriend,” says Chinese Girl One. Chinese Girl Two just shakes her head sadly.
“No boyfriends. That is very good news. Well”-he consults his mobile phone again, and presses a few buttons-“I think there may be good position for you looking after children in family of diplomat. Chinese diplomat based in Amsterdam. He has six children, three boys and three girls, and you will look after three each, so that is why two persons are required. They are very intelligent children, so great care and patience are needed. You must never beat them or shout at them. Do you think you will be able to do this?”
“Yes, yes,” they exclaim. “But…”
He catches Chinese Girl Two’s eye and quickly adds, Temporary job. Three months only. Regular nannies are on vacation. “Hey, don’t be afraid, you know me. You can trust me-I am your friend, I look after you.” He winks. “You will live with this family in their large luxurious house in the heart of Amsterdam ’s old city. You will have your own elite apartment, and you will travel everywhere by boat. It is very prestigious position with high level of responsibility, and pay will be commensurate. You will be in euros.” He glances once more at his phone. “Five thousand euros per month.”
They gasp; it sounds a lot, even though they have no idea of the exchange rate from euros to pounds to yuan or ringgit. “I need to make some telephone calls to ascertain full details, and see whether this job is still available. I will meet you here tomorrow at midday. Bring your bags with you. And passports.”
“I too would be interested in such a job looking after children,” says Marta.
Suddenly, the fluffy brown chickens seem much less appealing. Vitaly looks at her, studies her for a moment, focusing his gaze on her nose, and smiles kindly.
“I think looking after chickens is better for you.”
After his disagreeable doze on the beach, Andriy decides it is time to take a look around Dover. Dog, still wearing his orange ribbon under his chin, comes with him, padding along at his side, sometimes going off to follow an interesting trail, then racing to catch up.
The sky has turned heavy and the light has a greyish, dirty hue. His head is aching from sleeping in the sun, and a cloud of pessimism has settled over him. He had felt so sure earlier that he would find Irina in Dover -a feeling based partly on a hunch, and partly on the fact that he too came into England via Dover, though with a different agent. But now he doesn’t know where to start. He finds the streets of Dover depressing: shops closed, houses and hotels run-down, people sullen, with tight faces. It feels like a town whose heart has died. In fact it reminds him of Donetsk, idlers with no work hanging about the streets, drinking, begging, just staring. Too many strangers like himself, looking for something that isn’t there, waiting for their luck to change. And all the time the dismal grating noise of the sea in the background, and the miserable wail of gulls.
As he wanders through the streets, the impossibility of his task grows on him. Where should he start to look? And why is he even looking for this girl? What happened to her has happened, and although of course you would have prevented it if you could, really she is not your responsibility. Her boxer boyfriend should be looking after her. Bye-bye, end of story.
Retracing his footsteps back to the beach, he passes a young man with a bucket and a fishing rod. He looks Ukrainian, with his round face and dark eyes, but it turns out he’s Bulgarian. He says, in a mixture of broken English, Bulgarian and Russian, that he has been fishing off the pier-he points vaguely beyond the beach-and the fish are for sale. Andriy buys a small mackerel and two other unspecified fish for fifty pence, and starts to feel more cheerful.
The others are already at the caravan by the time he gets back. The Chinese girls are sitting inside poring over their horoscopes and whispering with suppressed excitement. Tomasz has found an old piece of tarpaulin and some blue rope in the lorry park on the way back, for which he has amazing plans. Yola and Marta are eating ice creams, and Marta has brought one back for him. Emanuel has had the foresight to fill up the two empty Coca-Cola bottles with clean water from the public toilets.
Andriy feels a prickle of annoyance when they tell him about their encounter with Vitaly. Bye-bye strawberry, hm? Hello mobilfon? The others are talking excitedly about their new employment prospects. Will his pride allow him to ask Vitaly to find something for him? And if he does, will it be like the mark-up on the cans of beer-a business opportunity disguised as a favour?
“Come, Andriy,” says Marta. “It will be the last night we will all spend together. We must celebrate.” And suddenly Dog comes bounding up with a partly frozen chicken in his jaws.
Dear sister,
Our small strawberry family is at an end. The Polish mzungus are to undergo chicken employment and the Chinese girls are designed for Amsterdam. Only Andree and I and the Dog will endure in the caravan. For our celebration Toemash has induced a bottle of Italian wine and we found a field near Dover which is blessed with an abundance of carrots which Martyr confronted with eagerness. The Dog also has bestowed a frozen chicken upon us.
While Martyr was knifing the carrots Andree and I went about to collect firewood and so we fell upon a shaded hollow where we came upon Toemash and Yola walking together and talking with solemn voices. And when they came back to the caravan Yola was holding the hand of Toemash and in the other hand a pair of woman’s underwearings.
Then Toemash and Andree constructed a tip-top tent from the tarpaulin and blue rope collected by Toemash, and I was given to sleep on my own in the back of the landrover befitting my small size.
The feast prepared for us by Martyr was outstanding and also Toemash’s wine and soon it was time to sing. Toemash has composed an outstanding song about a band of travellers and their stories of love and misbehaviour which he sang with the companionship of his guitar and I would be very interesting to learn to play a guitar for Toemash has already taught me some chords. On my turn I sang the Benedictus from the B Minor Mass of Bach which Sister Theodosia taught to me and we gave thanks for the Friendship we have enjoyed together in the strawberry place. And in my heart I prayed once more to be reunited with you dear sister and for the speedy deliverance of Irina for I knew a storm was coming for the red sun went down through an angry swelling of white and grey clouds which obscured the rising of the moon.
When I had finished the chips, I licked the scraps off the paper. Then I licked the grease off the paper. Then I considered my options.
If I turned right, I would be heading towards the row of poplars and the gleaming white field. If they were the same poplars, that way would take me back to the strawberry field, where I could collect my bag and the bit of money I’d saved, and the others would look after me and help me get away. If I turned left, it would probably take me towards Dover. I’d go to the police and they would send me back to Kiev, where my mother would be waiting for me with tears in her eyes. “I warned you, Irina, but you wouldn’t listen!” she’d say, sniffling all over me. And I’d hang around in the apartment, just me and Mother and the cat, getting on each other’s nerves, wishing Pappa was there, and dreaming of coming to England.