The Story of Us: The sweeping historical debut of 2018 that you will never forget

When he told her it was two in the afternoon and time for him to report to his regiment for duty, she couldn’t believe it. They had walked and sat on the bench and talked for almost three hours. It didn’t feel like three hours. It felt like three breathless minutes. Natasha didn’t want to say goodbye.

‘Can I walk you home?’ asked Mark.

Eagerly she nodded. It was only a five-minute walk, but it meant she could have him all to herself for another five minutes. But then she remembered all her fears about being seen with him. She remembered the woman in the park and her angry words. She tried to come up with an excuse, tell him that she was meeting Olga or catching up with her sister, but her lips were not used to lying. Looking away, she shook her head.

‘It’s okay. I understand,’ he said.

‘You do?’ She brightened. ‘How about I walk you to your barracks instead?’

On the way to Institutskaya Street Natasha put her arm through his. She could feel his fingers gently stroking the palm of her hand. In front of a thick wooden door that led to the barracks, she hugged him goodbye, taking the bag of food. He held her close and for a few seconds didn’t let go. His fingers were touching her hair. ‘I love your hair braided. You look very Russian.’

‘I am Russian,’ she whispered. She could swear her heart stopped for one whole minute. She wondered what it would feel like to feel his lips on hers. He kissed her forehead, opened the door and waved.

If it wasn’t for her mother’s shoes pinching her toes, Natasha would have skipped all the way home.

*

Olga had heard from a neighbour that one of the stores on Proreznaya Street had sugar and butter. She told Natasha, and the two girls, who hadn’t seen butter since June, rushed to the store and joined the line, shivering in the rain. The girls were the only ones talking in the sea of gloomy and mute faces.

Natasha desperately needed to confide in someone. If she didn’t share her feelings with another living soul, she wasn’t going to make it through her day. How could she, when she couldn’t breathe for the burning inside her chest and all she could hear in her head was his name? Never having been in love before, she wanted to climb to the top of the tallest building in Kiev and shout his name for everyone to hear. ‘It’s so good to see you, Olga,’ she said. ‘I have so much to tell you.’

‘That’s lucky because this could take a while.’ Olga pointed at the queue stretching for what seemed like a mile in front of them. ‘What do you want to tell me? Something good?’

‘Something wonderful.’

‘Tell me, quick. I need good news to take my mind off things.’

Natasha peered into her friend’s face. Olga had lost weight and when she moved, it was in slow motion, as if every step drained what little energy she had. ‘Is everything okay? You don’t look so good.’

‘I’m just worried, Natasha. I keep hearing rumours—’

‘Rumours of what?’

‘Just the things the Nazis are doing to the Jewish people in Europe. Haven’t you heard?’

‘I haven’t heard, no,’ said Natasha, instantly feeling guilty for thinking only of herself. And of Mark.

‘Ever since they’ve come here, I haven’t been able to sleep. What are they going to do to me and my mama once they find out we are Jewish?’

Natasha squeezed Olga’s hand, trying to reassure her. ‘There are hundreds of thousands of Jewish people in Kiev. What can they possibly do to all of you?’

‘I’ve heard of ghettos in Poland and… I don’t know if it’s true, but someone told me they’ve shot thousands in Kovno in July.’

‘That’s impossible! It’s just a rumour, Olga, nothing else. Why would they kill so many people? They need someone to work for them, to man their factories, to bake bread and make munitions.’

Olga’s face looked lighter, not as grim. ‘You think so? I hope you’re right.’

‘Of course I am. They want us to see them as liberators. How will they keep up the pretence if they do something so terrible?’

‘Like they care what we think.’ Olga shrugged.

‘We’ll be okay. We’ll get through this.’ More than anything Natasha wanted to believe her own words but how could she, when all she saw around her was misery and despair? And judging by Olga’s face, she didn’t believe her either.

‘Tell me your wonderful news. It will cheer me up.’

Natasha took a deep breath and told Olga everything. She told her what happened in the park and about her secret meeting with Mark. ‘Wait till you see him. You are going to love him. He’s kind and attentive and handsome.’

Olga watched her intently, her own predicament seemingly forgotten. ‘You sound so happy,’ she said, but her face remained dull, as if anyone sounding happy in the face of the Nazi occupation was something to worry about.

‘He does make me happy. When I see him, nothing else matters. Not the Germans in Kiev, not the war, nothing.’

‘You said he’s Hungarian. Natasha, they’re allied with the Nazis.’

‘Don’t you think I know that? But he had no choice. He was forced to enlist and fight for Hitler.’

‘I’m not saying this to upset you. And I am happy for you. I just don’t want you to get hurt, that’s all. You only have one heart. Don’t give it away too freely. What future could you possibly have together?’

The queue wasn’t moving. There were no arguments and no confrontations to distract Natasha from Olga’s words. The same words that echoed in her head ever since she met Mark. ‘It’s war, Olga. What future do any of us have?’

‘You say Mark is here against his will. But he’s still here. He’s still our enemy.’

‘It’s not like that,’ protested Natasha. ‘He helps people. He saved me and my babushka. He can do more good here than anywhere else.’

‘He’s still on Hitler’s side. He didn’t jump off the truck bound for Ukraine and join a partisan battalion fighting against the Nazis. He didn’t risk his life and his family’s lives to avoid mobilisation.’ Natasha felt tears perilously close. She clasped her fists to stave them off. Olga added, ‘All I’m saying is, people all over the world are risking their lives to fight Hitler. If Mark didn’t want to be here, he wouldn’t be here. How long have you known him? What makes you think you can trust him?’

Telling Olga had been a mistake. Underneath her friendly concern, Natasha could sense something she didn’t like. A current of disapproval and incomprehension. ‘He’s a good person,’ she said. ‘Kind, caring, supportive. He saved my life. He’s good person,’ she repeated softly, as if it wasn’t Olga she was trying to convince but herself.

After they queued for an hour, the store manager came out and said there was no sugar or butter left in the store. Nothing left in the store at all. A hundred hungry and disgruntled Kievans left empty-handed. Olga seemed preoccupied, and Natasha didn’t want to talk about her fears anymore because talking about them made them seem real. The girls walked five blocks to Tarasovskaya Street in silence.

*

When Natasha returned home, she saw two Gestapo officers smoking outside her building. Autumn sun reflected off the silver buttons of their uniforms, and their left sleeves were adorned with swastikas. Natasha couldn’t bear the sight of the frightening symbol. She lowered her gaze. The two of them scared her so much that she forgot all about Mark for the few seconds it took her to cross the yard. She sped up, wishing she had dressed down like Olga.

In the kitchen, she opened Mark’s bag and placed everything on the table. In their hiding place in the garden they still had a few cans of fish and some barley. There was plenty of tea in the cupboard but no more salt or sugar.

‘Natasha! Where did you get all this?’ exclaimed Mother. Startled, Natasha turned around. A look of confused disbelief was on Mother’s face.

‘Aren’t you supposed to be at work?’ asked Natasha. She fidgeted under her mother’s glare.

‘There was no one there, so I came home.’

Natasha wished she had a plausible explanation for what seemed like a feast set out on the kitchen table. She couldn’t think straight, and blurted out the first thing that came to her mind, vaguely aware that it would be all too easy for Mother to check her story. ‘Olga’s mama sent the food. She went to the village this morning.’ She felt her face burn.

‘How odd,’ said Lisa, who had just appeared in the kitchen, trailed by Alexei. ‘We just ran into Oksana Nikolaevna. She didn’t mention anything about the village.’ She fixed her eyes on Natasha. ‘Did she, Alexei?’

‘No, she didn’t,’ confirmed Alexei.

‘Must have forgotten,’ mumbled Natasha.

Mother picked up a can of meat and, adjusting her glasses, turned it this way and that. ‘What strange writing. What language is it?’

Natasha panicked. Because she didn’t know what to say, she nearly opened her mouth and told her mother everything. But Lisa’s mistrustful eyes stopped her. ‘Hungarian,’ she muttered. ‘They have a Hungarian officer living next door.’

‘He shared his food with Oksana? That’s nice of him,’ said Mother, examining a tin of tomatoes.

‘I thought the food came from the village?’ demanded Lisa.

‘The potatoes did,’ mumbled Natasha, suddenly feeling like a wild animal caught in the headlights.

‘I think Natasha’s got a secret admirer and she doesn’t want to tell us,’ said Lisa, tickling her.

Natasha pulled away. Trouble was, in their small kitchen she couldn’t step back far enough to get away from her sister. ‘Don’t be silly, Lisa.’

‘Is that who you were wearing make-up for? Look at her face, Mama. And she’s wearing your shoes.’

‘I can wear what I want.’

‘Don’t get so defensive, I’m only joking.’

‘Why are you wearing my shoes?’ asked Mother distractedly.

‘Couldn’t find mine.’

‘Oh, really?’ Lisa pointed at Natasha’s old boots that were in their usual spot in the corridor. ‘Who are you trying to impress? The Germans?’

Alexei chuckled. Natasha frowned. Mother groaned. ‘Girls, stop bickering and help me make lunch.’

They were busy cutting potatoes – whole potatoes and not just peels, thanks to Mark – when there was a loud knock outside that was immediately followed by another one, even more demanding. The Smirnovs fell quiet, exchanging a worried look. Mother went to answer the door, while the sisters poked their heads around the corner cautiously, ready to disappear back to the safety of their kitchen if the situation called for it.

The two Gestapo officers whom Natasha had seen downstairs pushed their way into the small corridor, followed by a young Ukrainian girl. Natasha guessed she was their interpreter. Lisa glared at the girl and muttered, ‘What a disgrace,’ to which Natasha squeezed her elbow and whispered, ‘Be quiet!’

The taller of the two Nazis barked something in German and the girl translated, ‘Any men here aged sixteen to thirty-five?’

Mother shook her head. ‘No, there aren’t. No men here at all.’ She glanced at Lisa, who turned around to warn Alexei. But it was too late. He had just appeared in the crowded corridor, wondering what all the commotion was about.

Lisa tried to protect Alexei, to shield him from view, to push him back in the direction of the kitchen. But she wasn’t fast enough. The men saw him. ‘Kommen Sie mit,’ said the shorter of the two. His words didn’t require translating because the gesture that accompanied them made it very clear what the officer wanted. When Alexei didn’t move, one of the officers wrestled him away from Lisa’s desperate embrace. As they were exiting the apartment, Lisa threw herself between the Germans and Alexei, but the officers pushed her away and ushered him out the door. Lisa stood as if rooted to the spot, watching Alexei until he disappeared down the stairs. When she could no longer see him, she slid down the wall onto the floor, whimpering. Glancing at her distraught sister, Natasha ran down one flight of stairs, catching up to the Ukrainian girl and pulling her by the sleeve. ‘Where are they taking him?’ she asked quietly.

‘I can’t tell you that,’ cried the girl. ‘They’ll shoot me.’ Her eyes were two dancing pools of silent fear.

‘They won’t shoot you. Listen… What’s your name?’

‘Tanya.’

‘Tanya, did you see my sister? She’s devastated. They’re getting married next month. Just tell us. It won’t do any harm.’

Tanya hesitated.

Natasha continued, ‘You aren’t German. You’re one of us. Help your own people. Please.’ She wanted to squeeze the girl’s hands until she cried out, wanted to shake her scrawny body until the truth came out. She resisted.

Tanya looked around cautiously. ‘It’s to do with the murder of the officer in the park a few days ago. They arrested a hundred people so far. That’s all I know.’

‘They arrested a hundred innocent people? Why?’

‘To make an example out of them? To make sure it doesn’t happen again? How the hell do I know?’ Tanya shrugged as if to say, What is it to me?

‘What do you mean, make an example?’ cried Natasha but Tanya was already running after the officers, her high heels click-clacking sharply on the sandstone of the stairs.

Slowly Natasha walked up the stairs. She didn’t know how to face her sister. If she could, she would have run after Tanya and onto the sunlit street, where she wouldn’t have to endure Lisa’s tears. Lisa was still on the floor, sobbing loudly and wiping her face with her fists. Natasha’s hands shook when she told her sister what she had discovered.

‘What do they want with him?’ wailed Lisa.

Natasha shrugged, her heart heavy, her eyelids heavy, everything of hers heavy, even the palms of her hands that were stroking Lisa’s quivering back.

‘Mama, what do they want with him?’ repeated Lisa, almost hysterical.

‘They’ll probably question him and let him go. He had nothing to do with the officer’s murder. They’ll see he’s innocent.’ Mother put her arms around Lisa. ‘They will, darling, don’t you worry. It will be okay.’ She tried to make her voice steady but failed.

Lisa sat up straight as if struck with a sudden idea. Her moist eyes glistened. She turned to Natasha. ‘You saw who killed the officer in the park, didn’t you?’ When Natasha didn’t reply, Lisa raised her voice. ‘Didn’t you?’ She shook her sister the way Natasha wanted to shake Tanya a few minutes ago. ‘Natasha, you have to tell them.’

‘Tell them? Tell them what?’

‘Tell them who it was.’

For a few seconds Natasha couldn’t speak. The words died under Lisa’s indignant stare.

‘Natasha, did you hear me?’ Lisa shook her one more time.

‘I heard you.’

‘You have to tell them.’

‘I wish I could Lisa. But I didn’t see who it was. It all happened so quickly.’ When she heard the lie slip effortlessly off her tongue, Natasha was horrified at herself. She realised she had told more lies in the past few hours than she had in her entire life. The effort of it all made her lips tremble.

‘I’m your sister,’ said Lisa. ‘Where is your loyalty?’

Natasha extricated herself from Lisa’s grip. ‘Lisa, I can’t tell them something I don’t know. I have no idea who it was. I was in such a shock, I hardly looked at him. I wouldn’t recognise him if I ever saw him again.’ Natasha lowered her eyes.

‘In that case you must go and tell them it wasn’t Alexei.’

Mother said, ‘They mustn’t know Natasha had anything to do with it. Or they’ll arrest her, too.’

‘Mama’s right. They’ll realise Alexei’s innocent and let him go. He’s got nothing to hide. Let’s wait and see what happens.’

‘Wait for what? For Alexei to die?’

‘He won’t die. Trust me. They have no proof. Nothing to link him with the murder.’

Natasha stroked Lisa’s head, trying to convince her sister that everything was going to be alright. Trying to convince herself that everything was going to be alright.

*

Natasha barely slept at all that night. As she listened to her sister sob on her bed hour after heart-wrenching hour, she couldn’t see straight through her guilt and her remorse. Should she have told Lisa the truth? Should she have done more to help Alexei? She thought of meeting him for the first time, over a year ago, thought of Lisa’s smile as she introduced them. Of Alexei playing pranks on them on their family trip to Lvov, when he had placed a live frog under Natasha’s pillow. Lisa had found it hopping around their tent, and her screams could be heard all the way to Kiev. Alexei was like another mischievous younger brother, and Natasha loved him dearly. How could she not help him?

But to betray Mark after he had saved her life? She couldn’t do that, either. Besides, Alexei was innocent, while Mark wasn’t. Why would the Gestapo punish Alexei for something he didn’t do? It didn’t make sense. Mark was an entirely different story, however. Natasha shuddered as she imagined what the Gestapo would do to him if they knew it was him who had shot the officer in the park. As Natasha tossed and turned and wished she was deaf so she wouldn’t hear her sister cry, she whispered like a mantra to herself, ‘He doesn’t need my help. He’ll be fine. He hasn’t done anything wrong.’ If only she kept repeating it long enough, she could make herself believe it.

Early in the morning, the girls thought they heard a soft knock, but when they rushed to the door, there was no one outside. It was still dark outside, but instead of going back to bed, they got dressed and hurried to Alexei’s apartment, even though Natasha suspected he wouldn’t go back there. No one was waiting for him at home.

Lisa had a key to Alexei’s flat, but her hands shook so badly she couldn’t fit it in the lock. Natasha took the key, patted Lisa’s hand, and opened the door.

The apartment was empty.

Lisa went from room to room, searching for him. When she realised he wasn’t there, she slid into a chair and hid her head in her hands. Suddenly she looked spent, like a deflated balloon, without air and without hope. Nothing was left, not even the strength to walk. Helplessly, she cried.

‘Come on, Lisa,’ said Natasha. ‘Let’s go to the gendarmerie. We’ll tell them it wasn’t Alexei.’

‘Will they believe us?’

‘I don’t know. But we have to try. You were with Alexei when Babushka and I… When the officer was killed in the park. We’ll tell them that. Mama can confirm our story. Papa, too. He’s a respectable man, a captain in the militia. If they don’t believe us, surely they’ll believe him?’

Lisa didn’t reply, but her eyes sparkled with hope and determination. No longer crying, she walked so fast, Natasha could barely keep up. It took them three quarters of an hour to reach the corner of Proreznaya and Kreshchatyk. It was still early, and the streets were deserted. The heavy metal door of what until recently had been the Children’s World store was closed and padlocked. The sisters waited.

After about an hour a young woman walked up the stairs, fiddled with the lock, and pulled the door with both hands. Natasha thought the woman looked familiar. ‘Katya, is that you? What are you doing here?’ Katya was the older sister of one of Natasha’s friends.

There was something different about Katya. It wasn’t her face, made up to perfection as always, or the way she wore her hair, straight down her back, or the way she dressed, in strict, understated clothes. No, it was something in her eyes. She said, ‘I work as a receptionist. What are you doing here?’

Lisa emitted a scornful snort. ‘Working for the Germans?’ she demanded and was about to say something else when Natasha pinched her forearm with all the strength she could muster. ‘Ouch,’ muttered Lisa. Natasha looked around. The street was still empty. She leaned closer and in a loud whisper related everything she knew about Alexei. Even before Katya had a chance to reply, Natasha could tell by the way her chubby face contorted that the news wasn’t good.

‘You’re too late,’ said Katya. ‘They hanged them at dawn. Hanged them all.’

Natasha gasped. She felt her sister’s hand go limp in hers. Lisa moaned and sank to the pavement.

‘Their bodies are still in the park for everyone to see.’

Natasha covered her ears. She didn’t want to hear. Her chest was burning as if a sharp object was lodged there.

Katya continued, ‘Go home, girls. There’s nothing you can do.’ Not looking at the sisters’ faces, she quickly disappeared inside, shutting the door behind her.

‘No,’ Lisa howled. ‘No.’

‘I’m sorry, Lisa. I’m so sorry,’ repeated Natasha, clutching Lisa’s shaking body tightly to herself, while inside her head, a voice repeated, It’s all my fault, it’s all my fault.

Lisa sobbed and didn’t reply.

‘Come on, Lisa,’ said Natasha, in vain trying to lift her sister off the pavement. ‘Let’s go home.’

Lisa shook her head, staring into distance.

‘Let’s go, Lisa, get up.’ It’s all my fault, it’s all my fault, like a broken record in her head.

‘Leave me alone,’ whispered Lisa, shivering.

Natasha pulled and shoved but failed to move her sister. She sat next to her, hugging her close. ‘I’m so sorry, Lisa,’ she repeated, almost choking on her tears.

Silently they sat.

‘I wish the person who did this would die,’ said Lisa finally, her voice hollow.

‘They’ll pay for everything they’ve done. You’ll see. They have to.’

‘No, I don’t mean the Nazis. The person who killed the officer in the park. Alexei died because of him.’

‘Lisa, not because of him!’ Natasha inhaled sharply. She found it difficult to speak. Her throat was too dry. ‘It wasn’t his fault. He did it to help us. He saved our lives. Me, Babushka, we wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for him.’

‘If he came forward, Alexei would still be alive.’

‘I’m sure he didn’t know about… about this.’ If Mark had known about this, he would have confessed. Wouldn’t he? ‘If you want to blame someone, blame the Germans.’

‘I blame you. It’s your fault.’

‘You don’t mean that. You’re upset. Let me take you home,’ said Natasha, putting her arm around Lisa. Lisa pulled away and got up, slowly walking down Kreshchatyk. Natasha followed her. Lisa didn’t speak when they reached Taras Shevchenko Boulevard. When they were walking past the park, she pulled away from Natasha and towards the gate.

‘Lisa, no. You don’t want to see,’ begged Natasha, horrified. She grabbed Lisa’s hand.

‘Leave me alone,’ screamed Lisa, pulling away so hard that Natasha lost her balance and fell. A number of people, most of them German, turned around and looked at the two girls. There was so much hatred in her sister’s eyes, Natasha almost expected Lisa to hit her. But she didn’t. When she spoke again, looking down at Natasha, her voice was no longer loud. ‘You should’ve told them what happened. For once in your life you should’ve thought of someone other than yourself. But you didn’t, and I’ll never forgive you.’

Lisa stormed off, leaving Natasha frozen in shock in the middle of the street.

*

On the stairs of her building Natasha bumped into the Kuzenkos, who were resting on what looked like a sheet filled with clothes. Timofei muttered something under his breath. Zina slept noiselessly. Natasha shook her awake. ‘What are you doing here, Zina Andreevna? Come and stay with us.’ But Zina only lowered her head and pointed at the Smirnovs’ front door, her eyes wide and staring. Natasha wondered what Zina was trying to say. She didn’t have to wonder long. At home, she found everyone jammed into their small kitchen, even Grandmother, who was lying on the folding bed someone had brought from the bedroom. The table was gone, but still there was no room in the crowded kitchen. Loud voices were coming from the living room.

Loud German voices.

‘They told us we could have the kitchen. They are going to force us from our home soon. Just like they did the Kuzenkos. Filthy animals! They can’t do this to us!’ exclaimed Mother, shaking her fist.

‘They are the conquerors, Zoya. They can do anything they want,’ said Grandfather.

The Nazis in their house! For the last few days, Natasha had felt her heart sink every time she was about to leave her apartment and step onto the streets that were swarming with grey uniforms. But at home, she had almost felt safe. Now this safety, illusionary though it had been, was gone. There was nowhere for her to hide. Nowhere to turn.