September, 1941
Moscow
Much to Rachel’s surprise, Lily volunteered for a woman’s fortification battalion. Her friend loved to ski and ride horses for pleasure, but she had never, to Rachel’s knowledge, ever done manual labor. Yet, Lily reported, fifteen hours a day she swung a pick-axe alongside Moscow women, digging anti-tank ditches. They were assisted by civilian men and soldiers, many on horseback, the horses being their primary means of moving landfill and heavy obstacles. “I look at every man who comes near us,” she told Rachel, “much to the amusement of my coworkers.”
Through August and into September Lily continued her search, leaving each morning well before dawn and returning after dusk. Rachel was struck by the effect Lily’s work had on her appearance: muscles appeared everywhere on her body giving her the physique of an athlete.
She told Rachel that she had come to respect the capital and its inhabitants. Though the bombing continued, whole industries were uprooted and shipped east to the mountains like children’s playsets. The Russians continued to frequent restaurants and the theaters, refusing to surrender themselves to the enemy’s will.
* * *
Their first job that morning was a building set on fire by incendiary bombs. It had taken all night to stop the fire, and now there was a massive pile of rubble to be disposed of. Soldiers on horseback were dragging away parts of the collapsed structure. Stephen and other members of the team worked in the background, moving equipment to where it was needed and helping to load debris onto trucks.
“Stephen! Stephen!”
He heard his name being yelled and turned to see a woman standing half way down the block. She appeared to have stopped to watch the action, but now she rushed forward through the smoke and ash filled light.
He knew her; yet he couldn’t believe it was Lily. Even as he shouted at her to get away he was looking into her eyes. He reached out, grasped her hand, and squeezed it. She nodded and retreated into the shadows to wait.
“It’s one of my soccer ladies,” he explained to his cohorts. It was not uncommon for athletes to have women who wanted to sleep with them just because of their status. Often, members of the team had women who met them outside the locker room after a match—as long as it was quick sex and they didn’t come onto the campus, no one seemed to mind.
It was hours before they were given a break. With a knowing look, he slipped away from his squad, and Lily followed him into an alley behind a building across the street. They came together, then stepped back and looked at each other. Lily’s hours outdoors had made her leaner and more muscular than he remembered. Her face had hardened; all traces of the youth who had left him in Talsi over a year ago were gone.
“Say something,” Lily urged. “I want to hear your voice.”
“I love you.”
He seized her, crushing his lips against hers as she wriggled out of her pants. She undid his belt and wrapped her legs around him as he held her against the wall. They hammered themselves into each other.
“I’ve got to go back,” he said afterwards.
“Do you want to hear what happened to your parents?” She asked, as she pulled on her clothes.
Not now, Stephen thought. “Yes.”
“They were killed by the Nazis. Michael’s probably dead too.”
The details don’t matter, he thought. They’re dead.
“Rachel can tell you about your mother when you see her. I saw your father die.”
“Better to wait,” he said, relieved. “Where are you staying?”
She gave him the address and told him where Rachel was working.
“What do we do now?” Lily asked.
“I don’t know. If I even try to contact you, I’ll be thrown off the team.”
“So what. My father can get me out, but I’m staying with Rachel. The three of us can disappear together.”
“Where?”
“What difference does it make—to that city your father was always talking about.”
“Tashkent.”
“They’ll never look for us there. And we can have my father cable us money until we find a way to get out of the country.”
“It’s dangerous,” he said. “If I get caught we’ll all be arrested.”
“You’ll have to take a chance and at least come to us. There’s no way we can get near you.”
“I’ll have to sneak off campus. It’ll have to be the middle of the night.”
“We’ll be there,” Lily said.
* * *
Finding Rachel and Lily solved nothing for Stephen. Since the invasion, Alexsey had left him alone having found a much easier way to keep him in check: he was never given his new identity papers and she kept his old ones locked in her safe. Without them, he could go nowhere other than to team functions.
Other athletes, he knew, easily got past the dorm gatekeepers when they wanted to go out and meet women at night—after all, their security guards were all older men whose admiration for the teams was limitless and who loved to stay in the good graces of those they were protecting. Leaving the campus was far riskier, but he had heard stories of team members who did it regularly, going to bars to meet women. So Stephen was fairly certain that he would be able to get away; the problem would be coming back. If he were stopped and asked for his papers, the only identification he had was the card issued to him by the administration. Showing it would only lead to the authorities contacting Alexsey, and she wouldn’t give him another chance.
In the end, getting out the dorm and off campus was simply a matter of joining up with a few of his teammates on one of their excursions. But once they were out, he split off, telling them that he was going to meet the woman who had grabbed him out on the street that morning. They urged him to bring her to the bar they were going to.
“We’re not interested in talking,” Stephen said. “To each other or anyone else.”
After leaving them, it took him only ten minutes to walk to their building. He forced himself to walk naturally, as though he had every right to be out on the street and on his way to his destination. No one bothered him. The attendant let him in without a fuss; he assumed Lily had paid her well.
Rachel opened the door and threw herself into his arms.
They laughed at themselves as they cried.
“You look like a real man!”
“As opposed to?”
“A schoolboy. In my mind you’re still in school.”
“School’s out.” Stephen lifted Rachel’s chin with his finger so that it caught the light from the doorway. “You look like you’ve been in a spa.”
“You need glasses!”
Stephen wanted to ask about their parents but he didn’t know how to begin. Rachel saw that he was struggling.
“Lily told you what happened?”
“Yes. But not how they died.”
He held her as she described the last moments of Elizabeth’s life. “It was because of that one soldier. If he hadn’t been outside the cellar doors at that moment she would have . . . .”
“Don’t do that to yourself. We have to go forward.”
“But it’s so hard. And Michael too . . . .”
Get her out of it, he thought. Guilt and grief will drag her down.
“We should go in. Lily’s going to be jealous.”
They went inside.
“Here we are!” Rachel shouted.
Even now Stephen couldn’t quite believe that Lily was here, that they had found one another. He felt an insatiable need to touch her, to hear her voice and watch her do mundane things like walk around the room and drink a glass of tea. Now she threw her arms around both him and Rachel and they huddled inside. When they broke apart they reclined on the bed together while Rachel faced them, sitting cross legged on the chair.
“Mitya what’s-his-name found you this?”
“He’s on our side,” Rachel said.
Stephen wanted to hear it all. He wanted to know everything that had happened to them. But he found himself telling them his story.
“I tried to warn you. But Alexsey—the Director of the whole program—got hold of the letter and threatened to dump me.”
“But aren’t you a star?” Rachel asked.
“Doesn’t matter to her. You don’t know how crazy this country is.” Stephen said.
“That’s why we have to get out,” Lily said. “Together, we can do it.”
“How?” Stephen asked.
“We take off for Tashkent. They’ll never find us. From there we can make it over the border,” Lily declared.
“We’ll only get one chance,” Stephen said. “If we wait until the Nazis are at the city gates, they won’t be able to follow us. And they might think I’ve been killed.”
“What if you can’t get back to us?” Lily asked. “I’d rather take the risk of being followed than of losing you again.”
Stephen shook his head. “We may not even make it out of the city. It’s too soon to try anything big. We need chaos. Let’s agree to meet somewhere. Should anything happen.”
Anything happen, Rachel said to herself. The catch-all that reduced the terror of war to a single phrase.
“And,” he continued in a lighter tone, “It so happens Lily and I have already decided on the perfect place.”
“Tashkent,” Rachel guessed. “Looks like Father had it right. I’ve heard at the studio that many artists and writers are being evacuated there.”
A leaden silence overtook them.
“Then it’s decided,” Lily said abruptly. “If we’re separated, we’ll look for you in Tashkent. The only question is what year. Or decade?”
She turned away from him. He pulled her back. “If I thought we could escape I’d go now. Tonight. You know I would. But I have no papers. None. I don’t think I could get on a train.”
“How did that happen?” Rachel asked.
He told them about his name change and Alexsey’s taking his papers.
“You’re right,” Rachel said. “That makes it impossible for us to leave right now.”
“I have a surprise!” Lily declared, jumping up.
From a hiding place she took out a bottle of champagne, a bottle of vodka, and a plate of caviar.
“When in Rome . . .”
“You devil!” Stephen exclaimed, astonished by her behavior. She can’t stand bad news, he thought.
“I get the first toast.” Rachel raised her glass. Her mind was reeling, overwhelmed by the ramifications of what Stephen had revealed. Whether he fled or not, Stephen was in grave danger. “To the two bravest, most loyal people in the world.”
“Three most,” Lily said.
They raised their glasses, clinked, and drank.
“Amen,” Stephen said, pouring the next round.