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Authors: Dan Smith

BOOK: Child Thief
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I told her about the fight with Dimitri at the edge of the forest and I described the tracks I'd found.

Natalia listened in silence, her hands wrapped around her cup. Not once did she sip her tea.

‘You're sure about this?' she asked.

‘Of course I'm sure. There's no doubt at all. Dariya's been taken.'

‘And you think it's the same person who did that to those poor children you found yesterday.' It wasn't a question. It was what we were all thinking, but Natalia was the only one with the
courage to say it aloud. And then she voiced the second thing we all had on our mind: ‘Do you think she's still alive?'

‘I hope so, but …' I put my face in my hands and rubbed hard before speaking again. ‘I'm afraid for her.' I stared at the tabletop. ‘I'm afraid that when I find her she might already be dead.'

‘Then why wait until morning to go after her?' Natalia asked. ‘Why not straight away?'

‘Don't you think I'd have gone straight away if I could?'

‘It's just a question, Luka, not an accusation.'

I sighed. ‘The tracks I found were at least a few hours old, but we had less than half an hour of daylight left and you can't track with lamps. If we'd gone unprepared, we'd have ruined the trail and been lost and cold within two hours. We'd probably be dead by morning. It wasn't an easy decision to make.'

Natalia reached across the table and put her hand on mine. She held my fingers in hers. Two hands that had been apart for so much of the time they should have been together.

Viktor and Petro stayed quiet, watching us.

‘Every time I think of Dariya, I see those two children.' I took a deep breath. ‘But beneath it all, a part of me is glad.'

I looked around the table and saw confusion in Viktor's eyes, but in Petro and Natalia's I saw only understanding.

Natalia nodded, her face softening. ‘You mean you're glad it isn't Lara.'

‘Yes.'

I went back to gathering what I'd need tomorrow while Natalia remained in her seat, drinking her tea and watching me prepare. She didn't touch anything, and she didn't protest again at the mess I was making of her table. She lifted her cup to make room for me and when I'd put everything on the table, I stood back to look at it all.

‘So much to carry, Papa,' Viktor said. ‘One man couldn't carry all that for long in the snow.'

‘Two men,' I said.

My sons both looked at me, but my eyes were on Viktor. ‘I want you to come with us.'

Viktor nodded. ‘Of course.'

‘But not me?' Petro asked.

‘I want you to stay here. You need to look after Mama and your sister.'

Petro shook his head, clenching his jaw, the muscles bulging and relaxing.

‘Why not both of them?' Natalia said. ‘Three are stronger than two, and Petro's a strong boy.'

‘That's why I want him to stay with you,' I said. ‘If they both come, who's going to take care of you and Lara?'

‘We can take care of ourselves,' she said. ‘You shouldn't be gone more than a day or two, and there's not too much for us to do.' She stared at me as if she were looking right inside me, trying to see what gave me my thoughts. ‘We can manage on our own for a while.'

Petro looked hopeful, his eyes meeting mine.

‘No. Petro stays.'

Petro turned away, going to the bedroom, closing the door behind him. The three of us stood in silence for a moment before I spoke again. ‘You should sleep too, Viktor. It'll be a long day tomorrow.'

When Natalia and I were alone, I asked her to put out some food for me to take, so she gathered bread and sausage, a small piece of
salo
, wrapping each in a square of clean cloth. The
salo
was from our own pig, which I'd slaughtered in the summer. Nothing had been wasted. I'd cut the fatback myself, smoked and salted it, and Natalia had made
kovbyk
with the flesh from the beast's head. That single animal had fed us for some time and the smoked
salo
had lasted well, but there was very little of it left.

She put the wrapped packages on the table with the other things and looked at the neat rows and piles I had laid out.

She spoke to me in a whisper. ‘So much to take. More than enough for just one day.'

‘It might take longer. I have to be ready for that.'

‘But I've given you only enough food for just one day. Hardly even that. I could give you more—'

‘No. Keep it. We haven't enough, and, God knows, if the Bolsheviks make it here, there'll be even less. I can hunt if I need to. I'll find something.'

‘You should take Petro with you.'

I snatched a box of
papirosa
cigarettes from the shelf and sat down, taking one out and pinching the wide filter. I lit it with a match and leaned so my forearms were on the table, letting the smoke drift around my head.

In front of me, the photograph I'd found in the man's tin. I picked it up and held it out so I could see it in the light of the candle. The family posing for the picture. All of them so serious. The children captured in that instant as if they would live for as long as the photograph remained.

‘This man lost everything,' I said, tapping his face in the photograph, covering it over and rubbing my finger across his features. ‘Everything that made him who he was.' I took a drag on the cigarette. ‘I think he was following the person who murdered his children.'

‘Why do you think that?'

‘It's what I'd do if someone did that to my children. I'd want to find him and kill him. And you saw how weak he was. Shot. Starving. What else could make a man in that condition keep going? What else would make him drag that sled and keep on?'

I looked up at my wife and remembered the nights I'd woken her with my shouting; how she'd held me, repeating my name over and over, telling me where I was. Even in the winter, when there was ice on the inside of the window, I'd sweat in my sleep and she'd have to fetch water to cool me. I didn't speak much of the things I'd seen or the things I'd done, but when I first returned from the fighting in the Crimea, she said she hardly recognised me. I was thin and hard and seemed barely alive. There had been a darkness in me, and I felt that same darkness now.

‘I think he was following someone who came close to
Vyriv, and now that person has taken Dariya. And when I find him, I'll kill him.'

Natalia watched me.

‘That's why I don't want Petro to come. He doesn't need to be part of that,' I said. ‘He's strong, but he's not like Viktor.'

‘No, he's not like Viktor, you're right. But he's stronger than you think he is, and the way you treat him, he thinks you favour his brother. He thinks you don't love him as much.'

I dragged on the cigarette, the harsh smoke tearing down my throat and soaking into my lungs. I allowed the smoke to leak from my nostrils before I pushed out the chair beside me. ‘Sit with me.'

Natalia sat down, and I turned to face her.

‘I think …' I tried to find the right words. I rolled the cigarette in my fingertips and lowered my voice to a whisper. ‘I think I love him
more
, Natalia. Because he's like you.'

Natalia was surprised. ‘You can't love one son more than the other.'

‘It's not like that.' I rearranged my thoughts. ‘Not more, that's the wrong word.
Differently
. I love him in a different way. I want to protect him from things that are …' I sighed. ‘The kind of things I'd protect you and Lara from. He's got so much goodness in him, I don't want it to be ruined by all the shit that's happening around us. I don't want him to be hardened by it like you were.'

‘I'm hardened?' She feigned surprise.

‘We've seen so much, Natalia. War, famine, winters that want to freeze our souls. You remember how I was when I came back? I couldn't rest. The nightmares, the fevers. I felt like I didn't belong anywhere, and if it hadn't been for you I'd be … well, I don't know what I'd be.
Where
I'd be. Maybe like that man they hanged today.'

‘This is different. And Petro feels guilty about what happened to Dariya, I see it in his face. He was the last person to see her and he thinks he should've brought her home. You have to give him a chance to find her.'

‘Viktor is strong enough to endure it, but Petro?'

‘
I
endured it. All of it. The fighting, being without my husband and then calming his sleepless nights. You weren't the only one who had nightmares.'

‘I know. I'm sorry.'

Natalia made a dismissive gesture with one hand, then raised her eyebrows and chuckled. ‘And what about the revolution? We
all
endured that. How we thought it would make things better.' She swallowed her bitter amusement and looked at me in her searching way. ‘I endured and so will Petro. Lara too. They all will; they have to. It's life.'

‘Maybe you're right.'

‘Of course I'm right; I'm always right.'

‘Mostly, that's true.'

‘So take him with you. Show him he has your love and let him help find Dariya.'

‘What if something were to happen to him?'

She put her hands around her cup to soak in its warmth, but it had grown cold. ‘Nothing will happen. He'll be safe with you.'

‘I don't know …'

‘Luka, I don't want
any
of you to go but, together, the three of you are so strong. This is no different from one of your hunting trips. You'll be back in a day or two and Lara and I will be fine.'

‘There are other things to think about,' I said. ‘I don't want you to be alone when the Chekists come—'

‘
If
they come. Maybe they never will.' She was trying to sound hopeful, to reassure me. ‘We're so far west. So far from Moscow. And we're not even close to Karkhiv; why would they ever come this far?'

‘They're getting closer. Every day they find a new village. They're everywhere, collectivising our farms, and each one they find leads them to another. They'll find us eventually.'

‘Perhaps there'll be another revolution before then, and everything will change again.'

‘I don't think so. Not this time.'

‘We're hidden away where almost no one can see us.'

‘But the other villages know.'

She let go of her cup and leaned back. ‘Then let them come, Luka. What will they do other than take what little we have? And what could Petro do to stop them, anyway? What could
you
do? Is it not more important to concentrate on one problem at a time; to find a stolen child? To give your sons some respect?'

I sighed and closed my eyes.

‘I don't want you to go, Luka, but you're the only chance Dariya has. Dimitri would never find her alone – he's a farmer.'

‘So am I.' I looked at my callused hands.

‘You were never a farmer. You were always a soldier. And now you're a soldier pretending to be a farmer, and I can see in your eyes it isn't who you really are. It's why you go hunting and spend so much time outside. You're happy to be with us, but the farming is a burden to you.'

‘No.'

‘I know you too well, Luka. On the outside you're a family man, a farmer, but inside? Inside you're still a soldier. So go and do
that
for a while. Put your knowledge to some use. Keep the promise you made to Lara.'

‘I didn't promise to take both her brothers with me.' I dropped my hands to my knees.

‘Take Petro,' she said. ‘Let him see he has your love and your respect.'

‘He already does.'

‘Then show him.'

We sat together for a while before washing and going to bed, moving silently so as not to wake the children. It was cold – the fire had done little to heat the house – and we pulled close to one another to keep warm. Lying face to face, Natalia kissed me as she hadn't done for a long time, and we pressed our bodies together, feeling the security and comfort of skin and scent and flesh. We made love, not as we had done when we were young and first together, but as two who are intimate in ways that reach beyond the physical, and, as we did, there was something that felt
final in our act. We moved together that night as if it were the last time we would move in that way.

And when Natalia slept, I held her. I listened to her breathing in the night, and I felt the cold at my face. She turned in her dream, putting her arm across my chest, curling her leg around mine. I memorised the softness of her skin and I closed my eyes. But I did not sleep for a long time. I stared at the darkness and thought about Dariya, wrestling with the decision I had made not to follow her into the forest at night.

11

Rest came in broken shards. Glimpses of tracks in the snow, of blinding white, of children lying naked in their graves. And Natalia's words repeated in my head as I reconsidered taking Petro on the search for Dariya.

My eyes were open long before the dawn came, and I was out of bed before the sun had begun to rise. Natalia sensed my movement, and the speed with which she rose told me that she too had not been granted a deep sleep that night.

While I prepared the last of my things, Natalia woke the boys and made a breakfast of eggs and bread toasted on the stove. She laid it on the table and sat down to drink hot water and watch us eat.

Viktor and Petro came from their bedroom, both of them yawning and rubbing their eyes.

‘Come and eat,' I told them. ‘We'll need our strength.'

Petro looked at me, waiting for me to go on.

‘I want you both to come,' I said. ‘Three will be better than two. And if we need to hunt, Petro is the best shot. You'll keep us fed, won't you?'

‘I thought you said Viktor is the best shot.'

‘Did I?' I shrugged. ‘Then you must both shoot well. That's good.'

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