Slanting snow drove into my eyes, and I could barely see. ‘Mama!’ Oh God, she wasn’t moving. ‘Here, hold this,’ I thrust the lamp into Alina’s hands. Mama was curled up in the snow. I was already crying as I put my cheek to her lips, but they were cold. I felt the pulse in her neck. It was faint, but still there. ‘She’s almost frozen!’ I put my hands beneath her arms and tried to lift her out of the snow, but it was hopeless. She was a dead weight, and I found my energy sapping. ‘Don’t just stand there, give me a hand then.’
Alina wedged the lamp in the snow and came to assist, but we could only drag her into the middle of the path.
‘Mama, wake up, wake up!’ I patted her cheeks, rubbed her hands. ‘Help! Somebody, please help me!’
People returning from work sidestepped her – others paused to look, but continued on their way, too exhausted, hungry and cold to care.
After several attempts, Mother opened her eyes and gave me a feeble smile. ‘Leave me, child. It’s no use. Go home.’
‘I’m not leaving you, Mama,’ I pulled her into my arms and cradled her to the warmth of my chest, while Alina searched for a strong man to help us. But there were no strong men.
‘There’s some money in the pocket of my skirt. I sold the clock to Boris and Roza. Take it and go home; it should last you a while.’
‘But why, Mama, and in this weather!’
‘Because I wanted to put a stop to your daily visits to Volosne. There’s enough money here to get you some more food from the shop. Don’t worry; it’s too late for me.’
‘But there is no more food, Mama. It’s winter.’ Knowing this, I felt even worse. ‘You mustn’t give up. Please, stay alive – for me. How will I live without you?’ I rubbed her hands, tried to revive her circulation.
Amongst a crowd of workers returning from the forest, Gerhard heard the commotion. As exhausted as he was, he slid his arms under Mama’s body and carried her home.
‘Is she still alive?’ Lodzia spread her bedding beside the stove, and I provided the pillow.
‘Just.’ Gerhard laid her down, unsure what to do next.
Lodzia reached for the soup pan and stuck it onto the stove to reheat, while I rubbed and patted Mama’s hands and legs, watching her face all the time.
She groaned when the blood reached her extremities. Gerhard moved her away from the stove and laid her on her slats. ‘What were you thinking going out in this weather with just a few shawls? Are you mad?’
‘I know, I’m sorry, but I needed to sell the clock.’
‘Then why didn’t you ask Lodzia to do it? She wouldn’t have minded.’
‘Ahh, I don’t know. Lodzia’s always so busy queuing for food; she has washing to do and Ella to look after. I assumed I’d get more for the clock if I took it to Kholmogorki, but that Alina wouldn’t take me. So, I went to see Boris and Roza instead. On the way back I slipped and fell; I think I’ve broken my ankle and my hip.’
‘I wouldn’t have minded going, Mama,’ Lodzia said.
Guilt pestered me still. This was all my doing. I should have been here, pulling my weight, helping Lodzia; not embarking on six-kilometre treks through the forest in search of food.
Everyone fussed and fretted, relieved to do so. Gerhard examined her ankle and hip, prodding and poking, ripped up a tablecloth and bound her foot. ‘I think it’s a bad sprain. Fortunately, I think your hip is just bruised; you have no fat to cushion your bones.’
The door opened and Karol appeared just as I said, ‘Mama, please don’t criticise Alina; had it not been for her, you would have perished out there.’
‘My boy!’ Her eyes lit up the moment she saw him, my rebuke forgotten. She stretched out her arms and he bent down and kissed her.
‘Why would you have perished, Mama?’
‘Ahh, ignore them; it was nothing.’
‘Nothing, huh? Look at the size of your foot,’ Gerhard said.
‘I know, I know, I’m a silly woman, and I won’t do it again. At least I got a good price. We need the money.’
Clearly Karol hadn’t a clue what was going on here in his absence. ‘Any news of Tatta?’
Mama said, ‘I think he must be dead. And if he survived, what use would he be to the Ruskies in his state?’ There was wistfulness in the way she said this, as if she had already accepted his death before she knew for certain. ‘I want his body back. We need to bury him.’
Karol took himself off to the banya to get clean and remained subdued; he was still missing Natasha. We ate our usual bowl of soup and a slice of bread, while our father’s absence hung between us. He had always been such a massive presence in our lives in every way; now the void was unbearable.
On Sunday, Karol whispered something to Mother just before he left for Volosne, and she reached into her pocket and handed over the proceeds from selling the clock.
A week later when Stefan called for me, he was not alone. Pushing open the door, he said, ‘Look who I found outside.’
From out of the shadows stepped Karol, supporting Tatta. He could barely walk, his gentle features suspended between joy and relief.
All of us were instantly on our feet.
‘Dear God! Ignacy!’ Mama hobbled to his side, slid her arms around his torso and lowered him onto the slats nearest the stove. ‘I thought you were dead.’
Tatta rested his forehead against Mama’s cheek, his eyes glistening with a serenity that was gratitude.
Too stunned to speak, I gazed in astonishment, elated beyond belief to have Tatta back with us, yet mortified by the ramifications of what Karol had just done. When I last spoke with Kommendant Ivanov, he assured me he was still doing all he could to get Tatta transferred to Vodopad, but these things took time, sometimes a very long time. Sometimes it was impossible. Now that Tatta had morphed out of the blue, how would we explain his presence? Karol had dropped us all in it, and our entire family was now in trouble.
Mother said, ‘How did you do it, son?
‘I used the money from the sale of the clock to bribe the Ukrainian who let me borrow the horse to bring back Natasha.’
‘And he allowed you all this time off?’
‘It cost me, but it was worth it. He’s a decent sort – despises the Soviets as much as we do. I left early on Sunday before it was light.’
‘Yes, but how did you find Tatta at the sawmills?’
‘He was in the bread queue; it was either there or in the cantina.’
‘And what if he wasn’t?’
‘Then I’d have knocked on every door, declaring I’d got the wrong shack.’
‘And no one saw you leave?’
‘Probably, but we didn’t look suspicious. I tethered the horse in the woods at the back of the sawmill where it wouldn’t be seen, and once I’d found Tatta, we went back to his room, collected his eiderdown, rolled it up tight and left the rest of his clothes behind. They were filthy anyway.
‘The place isn’t guarded; people are moving around all the time. Once I’d got him on the horse and swaddled in his eiderdown, we just upped and went.’
‘What have you done with the horse?’ I asked.
‘Left him outside.’ Karol got to his feet. ‘I plan to leave early. Meanwhile I need to get him inside somewhere, or he’ll be stiff by morning.’
I stared in disbelief, ‘You fool. Someone will see it, and think it’s one of ours. They’ll lock it in the stable, and you’ll never get it back.’
‘No, they won’t; he’s between the shacks.’
I turned my back to the family so Tatta wouldn’t hear. ‘Karol how are we going to explain this when Kommendant Ivanov sees Tatta back here? How are we going to reinstate his food rations at Vodopad? We are in such trouble.’ All we needed now was a dead horse rotting outside our shack because none of us would have the strength to move a great lump like that.