‘To the kolkhoz looking for you!’
‘But I didn’t go to the kolkhoz. I bumped into Natasha on the way…’
‘Mama told me. So, where did you go once you’d got the potatoes?’
‘Nowhere. Natasha made some Russian tea, and it was so deliciously sweet, we got chatting. When I was about to leave, her mother came home so I couldn’t rush off; I stayed a while longer. She told me some interesting things.’
‘And I thought you were dead!’
‘No, I was drinking tea.’
‘Chatting! Drinking tea! All this time!’ I was almost shouting, my nostrils flaring. ‘I thought you were in that forest somewhere, and the bears had got you.’ I almost added, and I nearly died there looking for you, but I didn’t give her the satisfaction. ‘Why didn’t you come and tell us where you’d be. Didn’t you think we would worry?’
‘Kohanie, you ought to know me well enough by now; I would never venture into any forest if I didn’t know my way out of the other side. Besides, I knew you were absorbed with the valenki.’ She searched my face and saw the scratches. ‘You didn’t go into the woods looking for me, did you?’
‘D’you think I’m that daft. I slipped and fell on the ice and landed in a bush.’
Father came up, took my coat, glanced at the scratches, but said no more. ‘This is dry, so you didn’t come to any harm. So where were you?’
I removed my mittens and unwound the scarf from around my neck. ‘If you must know, I’ve been drinking warm milk with Vasily, Boris and Roza in their cabin at the kolkhoz. I had a good look around at first; no one had seen you, so there seemed little point in carrying on. I knew you would turn up sometime. They were kind. They’ve even asked me to visit again.’
‘That’s all right then,’ said Karol. ‘We were about to look for you. I’m starving; what’s for dinner?’
‘Oh,’ Lodzia said, turning, ‘we have potatoes now. I told Mama to make some potato pancakes. We still have some flour and pork fat left, don’t we, Mama?’ She turned to me, put her arm around my shoulders and led me to the table, ‘You’d like some nice potato pancakes, wouldn’t you. Marishu?’
Is that all Lodzia could think about; a plate of potato pancakes? She had no idea of the sacrifice I’d made for her. Well, it’s the last time I would martyr myself for anyone. Nor would I forgive her. Ever! I ignored her. From now on; let her stew.
‘Listen, I have news.’ Lodzia carried on as if nothing had happened. ‘There’s a postal service here. Natasha told me Alina Zadarnowska is in the Kommendant’s employ, and she takes letters to the station at Kholmogorki. She goes on horseback – by herself, there and back! How about that?’
‘So? What’s it got to do with me?’
‘Everything, Marishu – it means you can now write to Wanda and Jusio and tell them where you are.’
I pretended I didn’t care, but oh God, could this be true?
Much happier now, Mother started grating potatoes for the pancakes. ‘So tell me about this Vasily, Boris and Roza. Did they tell you anything new?’
‘I can’t remember now.’
‘But you must have talked about something; you were there long enough.’
‘Oh, they were telling me about when they first came here, the same things as Natasha told us.’ I had to figure out how to get my hands on some paper and an envelope. Lodzia most likely had some, but I had decided I wasn’t speaking to her anymore.
‘Right then,’ Tatta said, ‘Lodzia, if you are going to be out somewhere for longer than you say, please come back and tell us so we don’t worry, and we know you’re alright. And you, Marishu, promise me never to go haring off on wild goose chases.’
‘I didn’t, Tatta, I was with Vasily, Boris and Roza.’ I’m sure he didn’t believe me.
‘Whatever. But imagine if you hadn’t been – for example, what if you had got lost in the forest – we would never have found you? Would we?’
I avoided his eyes. ‘No. I promise.’
Lodzia, wanting to make amends, swiftly brought the promised writing paper and envelope. ‘Here you are. Come on, we’ll write it together.’
I shrugged her arm off me. ‘I’d prefer to write it alone.’ I didn’t want her looking over my shoulder while I was pouring out my heart to my beloved. I wanted him to know how I truly felt about him, and I couldn’t write a love letter with Lodzia’s critical eye watching over me. It would be too embarrassing.
‘As you wish.’
15
Sitting on my slats with my World Atlas on my knees, the blank sheet of writing paper resting on top, I gave the matter some thought before I started. I had never written a letter before – any letter, let alone a love letter. I addressed it to Jusio. Wanda was too young; she wouldn’t know what to do. Jusio would. No doubt he would share the news with her – but this letter was important. It was a matter of life and death – and with this, I would save my family’s life. I licked the lead in my pencil and started writing.
My dearest, darling Jusio,
I’m not sure what the date is, but it must be the middle of March. I am writing this in the hope you and your family are still in Sciapanki, and this letter reaches you. I miss you so much it makes my heart ache. It’s awful – and Wanda too.
I suppose you want to know what happened to us all – one minute we were there, the next we had disappeared. The Soviet Secret Police came to our house and arrested us in the middle of the night on 10th February and loaded us onto the most appalling, smelly cattle trucks at Zhabinka Station. There was no food or sanitation, and we had to relieve ourselves in front of everybody into a hole in the floor. The stink was unimaginable….
Oh dear, this letter wasn’t going quite how I’d intended, but there were other things Jusio needed to know. Ah well – I only had one bit of paper, so I made my handwriting smaller to get it all in.
They kept us imprisoned on this train for maybe three weeks – not sure because all the days were the same, little food, and often no water. When we arrived here, just outside the Arctic Circle, they threw us off the train and made us walk through dense forests for hours to this ghastly camp.
Jusio, this is important – could you tell as many people as you can about what’s happened to us, because we are all starving here and they’re working us to death in the forests. Send this letter to your relatives back in western Poland because they will know what to do about it, and they may help us or send someone to save us.
Could you go over to Szpitali and see if Bookiet’s still alive? The NKVD shot him on the way to Zhabinka, and we left his body for dead on the track before you reach the Little Forest. I saw his leg twitch a bit, so he could still be alive and scavenging somewhere.
I hate to beg, but if you can, please send food. Kielbasa would be perfect and a slab of pork fat. Two pieces, if your mother can spare them because they don’t last long and all the food we brought with us has gone. All they give us is a slice of black bread and thin soup made from a few fish heads, a bit of pasta and dead beetles when they drop in from the rim of the vats or the roof of the cantina. The shop is always empty, apart from some stinking fish nobody wants.
I wanted to escape as soon as I got here, but today I got lost in the forest, looking for Lodzia, and now I have lost my nerve.