Natalya left work as soon as it wouldn’t cause people to wonder why she was leaving work early. Walking hunched against a cold wind, bundled in her scarf and heavy overcoat, she felt like a moving cocoon, a loan chrysalis, invisible to the world, a pupa that could never get out. With Mikhail gone, all she wanted to do was hug her children for comfort. However, she needed more than hugs. She needed to talk to someone. The only person she could think of was Louise.
She realized that Louise also lived in a cocoon—a cocoon of American safety and wealth, a cocoon of rule by law. Louise had every possibility of emerging from her cocoon as a butterfly. In fact, Louise was a butterfly already but didn’t know it. A butterfly was free. The image nearly overwhelmed Natalya. All her life, she’d been wrapped in her private little world, keeping her true self secret. Now, she wanted to claw her way free of the surveillance, the whispering, the threat of the knock on the door, the inability to trust the news or the truth of a conversation. She wanted to be free of the constant vulnerability to injustice: living in a hierarchy where the only recourse against injustice was to ally with someone in the hierarchy more powerful than those who would oppress you—which only gave that person more power over you.
She was nearly running now, wanting to see her children. She would hug them and then she would bundle them up and take them with her to see Louise. And she could feel the warmth and love of her children. How simple. How different from work. How wonderful. Her spirits lifted.
After nearly suffocating Alina and Grisha, Natalya helped Fanya feed them. After dinner she began dressing them to go out.
“Are you going out?” Fanya asked. “With the children?”
“Yes,” Natalya said brightly. “You know how my friend Louise loves children. I thought I’d go over for tea. Well, in her case, coffee.”
“I’ll come with you,” Fanya said. “Let me get my coat.”
“Oh, no. You take some time to yourself. I’ll be fine.”
“No bother. I’d love to come.”
Natalya hesitated. What was going on? “But you’re sure you don’t want to … I don’t know. You’re young … Go out? Have fun?”
“In Finland?”
Natalya laughed. “It’s not that dreary,” she said, still dressing the children. She looked up. Fanya was clearly in some discomfort.
“No,” Fanya said. “It’s my job to help you with the children.” This was new.
“But I don’t want any help right now, Fanya.”
Fanya looked at the floor. Then she looked around the room. It was as if she was seeking some way out. “It’s my job,” she muttered.
The constant underlying anxiety once again turned into fear. Clearly, Fanya had been told not to let the children out of her sight. They were already hostages. Natalya fought the fear down. If Fanya had been told not to let the children out of her sight, then Fanya knew Natalya had come under suspicion.
“OK, well,” Natalya said. She forced a smile. “I’d really love some girl time with my friend. It would be so kind of you if you could put them to bed. I won’t be long. Just, you know, catch up on gossip. Louise really can be quite a lot of fun.”
The two women looked at each other. They both knew that they both knew. Neither could say it aloud, both wrapped in silken threads of silence and fear.