LITMIR.BIZ

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Street. When Natasha was a little girl, Grandmother often told her about the war and the horror it brought in its wake. The little Natasha had listened to the stories as if they were fairy tales that had no place in reality. Never had she imagined she would experience the horror first-hand.

      ‘They are here now. Stalin will have to accept it. There’s nothing he can do,’ said Grandfather.

      ‘Do we have to accept it?’ demanded Mother.

      ‘There’s nothing we can do,’ repeated Grandfather.

      ‘Stalin should have protected us better,’ whispered Natasha.

      ‘All these fires in Kiev,’ said Mother. ‘A friend of mine lives in a village nearby. She told me the Soviets confiscated all her crops, and then one day the tractors came to destroy the fields. Her neighbour threw herself in front of a tractor and was arrested by the NKVD. No one’s heard from her since.’

      ‘Scorched earth policy,’ said Grandfather. ‘Just like at the time of Napoleon’s invasion, the Soviet government destroyed everything that could be used by the enemy. Train stations, bridges, factories, power stations.’ Softly, as if hoping no one would hear, he added, ‘Food.’

      ‘But, Deda, we are still here. We need food.’ Natasha’s hands shook as she scooped potatoes with her spoon.

      ‘Speaking of food,’ said Grandmother, ‘I went to the water pump this morning and saw a notice glued to the wall of our building. The Nazis want us to hand in our food supplies. And our radio.’

      Putting her spoon down, Mother said, ‘We can’t give our food away. It’s a death sentence. We need to hide it.’

      Father looked up from his plate. ‘Hide what?’

      ‘The food.’ Mother looked around, as if making sure there were no German officers around to overhear. ‘Not inside the apartment. In the garden maybe.’ Breathing heavily as if fighting back tears, she turned to her husband. ‘Where’s your shovel, Vasili?’

      ‘It’s in the corridor, Mama,’ said Nikolai. ‘I just saw it behind—’

      But Father interrupted. ‘Are you serious? You want to hide the food?’

      Mother fidgeted under his glare but nodded.

      Father snapped, ‘Hide it from the Nazis? Are you out of your mind?’

      Natasha winced. Father’s voice was too loud for the crowded kitchen. She looked at her brother just in time to see a piece of chocolate disappear into his mouth. ‘Hey,’ she hissed. ‘Where did you get that? It’s mine.’

      ‘It’s mine now. Finders, keepers.’

      ‘Not fair. You ate your share yesterday.’ But Nikolai only smiled and swallowed the remainder of the chocolate.

      Mother mumbled, ‘I just thought—’

      ‘Well, think again. They will shoot you for hiding food.’ The cup Father was holding in his hand quivered and some of his tea spilled on his shirt.

      ‘Yes, and if we don’t hide it, we’ll starve. What do you prefer?’

      ‘You’re seriously asking me if I would prefer…’ Father waved his hands dismissively.

      Grandmother glared at Father and said, ‘You’re right, daughter. We need to hide the food.’

      Father shoved his chair back and stormed out of the kitchen. For the rest of the morning, he remained on the couch, searching through his newspaper for news from the front.

      *

      After breakfast, Nikolai and Alexei joined the sisters in their room.

      ‘Germans in Kiev,’ said Alexei. ‘Can you believe it?’

      ‘I can’t believe it,’ said Natasha, looking up from her book. ‘What’s it going to be like?’

      ‘Not much fun, I guess,’ said Nikolai.

      ‘I guess,’ whispered Natasha.

      ‘Soviet Union should have attacked first. Then we would have had a strategic advantage,’ said Nikolai, as if he knew about such things. ‘Have you heard what they’ve been doing in Poland? Burning, looting, killing, and…’ He glanced at the girls and, to Natasha’s relief, didn’t finish his sentence.

      Lisa, who was rummaging through her drawers, looked up and asked, ‘Has anyone seen my blue notepad?’

      ‘You mean your diary?’ There was a teasing note in Nikolai’s voice that he attempted to hide.

      ‘Yes. My diary. I’ve been looking everywhere for it.’

      ‘Haven’t seen it,’ said Natasha.

      Lisa proceeded to search the bookshelves, peering behind every book.

      Natasha turned to Alexei. ‘Are you staying here with us?’

      Alexei nodded. ‘Your mama said I could stay for a bit.’

      Lisa said, ‘I’m so happy to have you here. It’s like we’re already married.’

      Alexei laughed. ‘Don’t let your papa hear you say that.’

      Coming close to Lisa, he attempted to draw her into a hug but Lisa pushed his hands away, muttering, ‘I don’t understand. I had it yesterday. What did I do with it?’

      Watching the sly expression on Nikolai’s face, Natasha whispered, ‘Have you seen it?’

      Nikolai whispered back, ‘I hid it.’

      ‘You hid it?’ Natasha suppressed a giggle. ‘Where?’

      Nikolai reached under the mattress and extracted a blue notepad, opening it on a random page. ‘I love him, I love him, I love him,’ he read in a high-pitched voice. ‘Yesterday we talked about—’ A book expertly thrown by Lisa hit him, making him jump.

      ‘Ouch,’ complained Nikolai, rubbing his shoulder. ‘You think violence is the answer to everything?’

      ‘What’s the matter with you two?’ exclaimed Lisa, ripping the diary from her brother’s hands. She left the room, dragging Alexei behind her and slamming the door.

      ‘You’ve done it now,’ said Natasha. ‘You’ve really upset her.’

      ‘You think she’ll tell Mama?’ For a moment Nikolai looked worried.

      Seconds later, Mother entered.

      ‘I guess yes is the answer to your question,’ whispered Natasha.

      Mother’s hair was hidden under a kerchief. Dark circles under her eyes were clearly visible despite a thick layer of make-up. Her face was thunder. ‘You two! Stop behaving like children. You heard your father. This is not the time for jokes.’

      ‘But we are children, Mama,’ muttered Natasha.

      ‘And it’s always time for jokes,’ added Nikolai.

      ‘I don’t have the patience for this. You will both apologise to Lisa. Nikolai, you can clean the kitchen and help your grandfather hide the food in the garden.’

      ‘Mama, Lisa torments us all the time,’ said Nikolai. ‘Just because we never tell doesn’t mean—’

      ‘Go to the kitchen.’

      ‘But, Mama, we didn’t mean any—’

      ‘Now.’ There was no arguing with Mother’s no-nonsense voice.

      ‘Don’t send him to the kitchen, Mama. He’ll only eat all the food,’ said Natasha.

      Nikolai left the room. Mother watched him until he disappeared around the corner. There was no anger in her eyes, only fear.

      ‘Natasha, go with your grandmother.’

      ‘Where

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