Dominion (63 page)

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Authors: C. J. Sansom

Tags: #Historical, #Azizex666

BOOK: Dominion
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‘Aren’t you curious? You and the Resistance people? About what I know?’

She smiled. ‘We’ve been told not to ask. And the Resistance is like an army, we’re soldiers, we obey orders.’

‘You kill people like soldiers as well, don’t you? The stories about bombs and assassinations, they’re true, aren’t they?’

‘I wish there were another way. But all other roads have been blocked off.’

‘Have you killed anyone yourself?’

She didn’t answer. Frank said, ‘My brother, he started all this, put us all in danger.’

She smiled sadly. ‘I had a brother, too.’

‘Did you?’

‘Yes. But he was not like yours. We were close. But he had – what they call mental problems. Difficulties in dealing with the world. When he was young he was very confident, but I
think there was always fear underneath.’

‘Did he go to hospital like me?’

‘No.’

‘My brother Edgar was confident. Everything came his way. Or seemed to.’

She smiled encouragingly. And then, to his own surprise Frank found himself telling her about his childhood, his brother and his mother, Mrs Baker, and then the school. He had never talked to
anyone about these things the way he talked to Natalia now. Because she listened, and believed him, and didn’t judge. At the end Frank said, ‘I’ve always been afraid, like your
brother.’

‘But you had real things to be frightened of,’ Natalia said. ‘My brother was different, he didn’t have any real cause for fear. Not until the war came.’

‘What was he like?’

She smiled. ‘Peter was two years older than me. He had Tartar eyes like mine, but blond hair like our mother, who had German blood. A mixture. A beautiful mixture. A big, noisy boy, always
getting into scrapes. But everyone forgave him, because he never meant harm to any living thing. And all the girls loved him.’

Frank frowned slightly. He sounded too good to be real. Natalia caught his look and smiled. ‘It’s true, everyone loved him. I worshipped him. Yet sometimes I would find him standing
in a room quite still, looking so afraid. I used to ask him what the matter was and he would say, “Nothing, I was just thinking”. Our mother died just after Peter started university,
while I was still at school, and that made him worse.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘She had a sudden heart attack. I remember one day after she died going into our sitting room and Peter was standing looking out of the window, his hands clasped together so tightly. He
had that frightened look and there were tears in his eyes. I asked what the matter was. He said, “We’re all alone, Natalia. There’s no meaning, no safety. Something can just come
out of the blue and destroy us like it did Mother and there’s nothing we can do.” He said, I remember it exactly, “We spend all our lives walking on the thinnest of thin ice, it
can break at any moment and then we fall through.” I see him now, standing there, the words rushing out of him, the blue sky outside our window.’ Natalia broke off and smiled.
‘I’m sorry, I don’t mean to distress you.’

‘Thin ice. Yes. I’ve always known about that.’

‘Perhaps we all do. But we all have to go on hoping it won’t break.’ She sighed. ‘Otherwise, like Peter, or your mother, you can go looking for salvation in some mad
theory, some pattern to the world that isn’t really there.’

‘What did he believe in?’

‘Communism. He joined the Party just after our mother died. So many people in Europe turned to the Fascists and Communists in those years. Peter became a Communist and he was much happier
for a while. He thought he had found the key to history. The Fascists thought they had too, of course, in nationality. Peter finished university, did some painting – he was a painter like me,
though a much better one. Before he joined the Party he did some remarkable work, surreal, I think it reflected the confusion in his mind. But later he designed Party posters, square-jawed workers
and beautiful maidens waving scythes . . .’ She laughed. ‘Our father was a merchant, he was so angry when Peter became a Communist.’

‘I’ve never really believed in anything,’ Frank said sadly. ‘I just wanted to be left alone.’

‘You believed in science. You worked at a university.’

‘Believed in it? I was interested in it.’ He shook his head. ‘In my old life I worked. I ate. I slept. I read science-fiction magazines and books. I had a flat in Birmingham. I
don’t think I’ll see it again.’

‘Peter was living in a science-fiction book called communism,’ Natalia said with sudden bitterness. ‘He thought he saw the future of humanity, its true meaning, in Russia. But
then he went there. On an official tour. I had been away studying English, in London.’

‘That’s why you speak it so well.’

She lit another cigarette. ‘I remember when I came back Peter was getting ready for his visit to Moscow, he was full of it, he even said he might emigrate to Russia. But when he got there,
being Peter, he wandered off on his own one afternoon, gave the tour guide the slip and went exploring Moscow. The Communists were destroying the old city then, putting up big blocks of flats,
bright and white, accommodation for the workers’ future.’

‘They’re starting to build them here, too. The high-rises.’

‘There were some near where Peter was staying, they were new, they hadn’t even laid the pavements yet. Peter told me how he walked over the muddy ground, opened the door of one of
the blocks and went inside. He said it was indescribable, filth everywhere, people had been going to the toilet on the floor. The flats were full of families crammed into single rooms, more than
one family sometimes, just a tatty curtain to divide them and give some privacy, all swearing and fighting with each other. They screamed abuse at him when he wandered in. And somehow, seeing the
inside of that block of flats, seeing how people really lived in his Communist paradise – he was never the same after that.’

Frank thought of Peter stumbling through the mud of that Moscow building site. ‘Poor man,’ he said.

‘Yes. Poor Peter. I don’t know what he expected to find there, a palace?’ Her voice was angry. ‘He got into trouble with the tour people for that. He was lucky he had a
foreign passport. That was 1937, during the worst of Stalin’s Great Terror. When Peter came back to Bratislava he left the Party and spent more and more of his time indoors, alone in his
room.’

‘A room, a home, it’s a place to hide, isn’t it?’

‘Yes.’ She blew out a cloud of smoke, sighed. ‘Meanwhile, out in the world, things were getting worse. Next year Hitler took the Sudetenland, then in 1939 he made Slovakia an
independent puppet state, and then the war broke out. Father was retired by then, but he had money and I was working as a translator so I was able to take care of Peter. I looked after him for two
years. Father helped too, but he was old, he did not really understand.’

‘Peter was lucky. Having someone to look after him.’

‘I did what I could. Then in 1941, the Germans invaded Russia. The Slovak government sent soldiers to help them. My brother was conscripted, he was young and fit and they didn’t care
about his mental state. He fought all the way to the Caucasus. He came back with a shattered leg. It healed, but the effects on his mind –’ she shook her head sorrowfully –
‘he was terrified people were going to come for him, terrified. Communists or Fascists or priests – I don’t know who, anybody. Father had died while he was at war. In the end he
jumped out of the window.’ She gave Frank a long, hard look. ‘It was a terrible thing to do to me.’

‘He couldn’t live with his fear,’ Frank said simply.

‘The whole world has had to learn to live with fear now.’ She got up, her knees creaking. It reminded Frank that she was his age, she wasn’t young. ‘I’m
sorry,’ she said quietly. ‘I did not mean to talk of all these sad things.’

‘It’s all right.’

She walked over to the window, pulled the curtain aside. The fog was as bad as ever, thick, cloying, almost liquid; there was nothing to see but darkness. ‘No sign of this ending,’
she said. Then she turned to face him, smiling. ‘Thank you.’

‘What for?’ he asked, surprised.

‘Because you understood about Peter.’

After she had gone Frank thought, was her brother really like me? He felt a little awed that she’d talked so openly to him. Then David had come to check on him.
He’d tried to doze again but he was restless now, all the conversations he had had that day coming back into his head. After a while he decided to go downstairs. As he passed the door of the
next room, he was surprised to hear low voices. He wondered whether they were talking about him. He stood next to the door. He heard Natalia’s voice, very quiet, ‘You need a woman as
much as I need a man.’ He stepped away, suddenly filled with betrayal and loss and jealousy. Then he felt numb.

Downstairs Ben was sitting with the O’Sheas, still playing cards. He looked up. ‘A’ right? Thought you were asleep.’

‘No. No, I – I couldn’t settle—’

Ben looked at him keenly. ‘Sure you’re all right?’

‘Yes.’

‘It’s a bit early for your bedtime pill. I’ll give it you in an hour, that’ll get you to sleep.’

‘Would you like a cup of tea?’ Eileen asked with a smile. ‘A bit of cake maybe?’

‘No, no thanks. Where’s Geoff?’

She nodded to the door of the front room. ‘He’s asleep in there. Why don’t you go and see how he is?’

Frank opened the door. He felt their eyes on his back. The light was on; Geoff was asleep in an armchair but he woke as Frank came in. He coughed.

‘I’m sorry,’ Frank said. ‘Did I wake you?’

‘I was only half asleep.’ Geoff sat up, coughing again, a harsh rasp. He didn’t look well, there was sweat on his brow. ‘What time is it?’

‘Nine o’clock. How are you feeling?’

‘A bit rotten.’ He looked at Frank. ‘How are you? Holding up?’

‘Yes. Yes, I suppose so. I’ve got a bit of a tickle in my throat, but it’s not getting any worse.’

‘I think I might go up to my room and lie down.’

Frank raised a hand. ‘No, I don’t think –’ he stumbled over his words – ‘not yet.’

Geoff gave him a puzzled frown. ‘Why not?’

‘I – I think David and Natalia are up there.’ Frank felt himself blush. ‘Together.’

Geoff nodded his understanding, gave a sad little smile. ‘I wondered if something was going on there. Thanks for the warning.’ He frowned. ‘But I wouldn’t have thought
–’ he looked at Frank intently – ‘listen, if we get to meet up with Sarah, David’s wife, you mustn’t say anything. He and Natalia – well, these things
happen when everyone’s thrown together, under such a strain—’

‘I won’t say anything. I promise.’

Geoff sat back wearily in his chair. ‘I suppose I’d better stay down here for a while then.’

‘David and Natalia,’ Frank said. ‘His wife. They shouldn’t—’

‘Who are we to say?’

Frank looked down. ‘I don’t know.’

Geoff shook his head. ‘Only fifteen years ago you and I and David were at university. It was a different world then, wasn’t it?’

‘Yes, it was.’

Geoff smiled. ‘Do you remember the day when we were all in this pub, and there was that idiot loudmouth from our college, I’ve forgotten his name now, arguing that Hitler only wanted
to revive Germany’s national spirit, just wanted territories that were historically German and he was entitled to them—’

‘Carter,’ Frank said.

‘That’s right. And you said, “They’re not territories, they’re places where people live and it’s the people that matter.” I remember he just sat and
stared at you. I think he was a bit surprised you’d answered him back.’

Frank said, ‘You remember that, after all this time?’

‘Oh, yes. I—’

Geoff broke off suddenly, at the sound of a tremendous crash from the front door. Frank turned, so fast he almost lost his balance, as another followed. Geoff looked at him, then threw open the
door from the front room to the hall. Outside, in the hallway, Sean had come out of the lounge and stood, a gun in his hand, facing the front door. As they watched it splintered and flew open.
Three men burst in from the fog, pistols drawn. Two were uniformed Auxiliary Police. One was carrying a sledgehammer and the other a pistol. The third was in plain clothes and to his horror Frank
recognized Syme, the tall, thin policeman from the hospital. He had a gun too. Sean fired at the Auxiliary who had the pistol, a tremendous noise in the confined space. The policeman toppled back
onto the other two, unbalancing them, blocking the doorway, blood gushing from his neck. The plain-clothes man, though, had time to fire at Sean, and the big Irishman went down with a crash, his
body hitting the floor with an impact that shook the boards.

Frank stood paralysed. As the two intruders struggled with the body of their dead colleague in the doorway, Geoff grabbed his arm and pushed him towards the open doorway of the lounge. Ben stood
there, also holding a gun. There must have been guns in the table drawers. Behind him Eileen stared through the door at her husband’s body, eyes wide with horror. Frank glanced at
Sean’s face; the blue eyes whose gaze had scared him were still and dead now.

There was a clattering on the stairs and David and Natalia appeared, running down, David frantically buttoning up his clothes. In any other circumstances it would have looked ridiculous.
Natalia, too, was holding a gun. Syme and the other Auxiliary were in the hall now and both raised their firearms but Natalia fired first, Ben following from the doorway a second after. They missed
Syme but Natalia hit the other Auxiliary in the arm. He yelled and staggered. Just outside the house, they heard the sound of a police siren.

Geoff had Frank inside the lounge now. Natalia and David followed and David banged the door shut.

‘Out the back!’ Eileen pointed at Frank, her voice a loud scream. Geoff grabbed Frank’s hand and pulled him towards the kitchen. The others heaved the heavy table in front of
the door to the hall, blocking it, just before the plain-clothes man threw himself against it. Other police were coming and it would not hold for long. Eileen shouted, ‘Go!’

Ben opened the back door, slowly and carefully. Outside, nothing but a bank of fog. There could have been a dozen more armed policemen out there, but there was nowhere else to go. Other
policemen had arrived through the front now, and were throwing themselves against the lounge door. Frank looked back at Eileen. She smiled weakly, then reached into her dress, between her breasts.
She pulled something out and put it in her mouth. Frank had a momentary glimpse of her body convulsing.

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