The Prince of the Soviets

24. HOLIDAY IN CRIMEA

After the dark and rainy north, Crimean sun seemed dazzling to Klim. Jumping down from the footboard of the railroad car, he caught sight of Nina and Kitty straight away. They were hurrying to meet him, both in identical flowered muslin dresses and white crocheted berets.

“Daddy’s here!” squealed Kitty in delight.

He lifted her up and kissed her. “Well, how are you enjoying yourselves here?”

Kitty immediately began to tell him about how she and Nina had been to the cinema to see a film called Tip-Top in Moscow, which featured a little cartoon black boy against a real city backdrop.

Klim peered up at Nina. She was standing beside Kitty, absently fiddling with a small mother-of-pearl giraffe on a string around her neck.

“A present from Elkin?” Klim asked.

Nina blushed and tuck the pendant into her dress. “Well, it’s just—”

She and Klim did not even say hello to each other.

“All right. Let’s go and find the bus.” Klim picked up his suitcases. “Is Kitty better now?”

Nina nodded. “I found out what the problem was. She mustn’t eat chocolate.”

As they walked to the bus stop, Nina told him how she had made her discovery. Klim tried to think of something to say without success.

Nina was looking at him expectantly.

“Well done,” he said at last and immediately felt annoyed at himself. He sounded exactly as if he were thanking Galina for bringing him a press report.

On the way to Feodosia, Klim had decided that he would try to act naturally. The problem was that what felt most natural to him was to shun Nina, and she sensed it.

When they took their seats in the bus—opposite one another, not side by side—Nina put her feet on Klim’s suitcase while he moved his knees to one side to avoid accidentally brushing her legs. Nina gave a wry smile as if to say she certainly had no desire to touch him.

The bus set off. The wind from the open windows ruffled Nina’s hair and made her skirt billow up like a sail. Klim stared around him, careful to look anywhere except in Nina’s direction.

Across the aisle, an old man was scolding his wife affectionately, telling her that on no account was she to lift buckets of water because it would hurt her back.

A little fair-haired boy was pestering his mother: “Is Lidia here already? Is she expecting us?”

You wait, thought Klim. You’ll get involved with some Lidia or other, and the next thing, you’ll be cursing everything under the sun.

“Are you playing that game where nobody’s allowed to say anything?” piped up Kitty. “I want to play too! One, two, three—and the first to speak is a big fat flea!”

She puffed up her cheeks and covered her mouth with her hands. Klim was very glad of the excuse to stay silent.

The bus bounced over a pothole, and Klim was thrown toward Nina. He barely managed to stay in his seat by grabbing the handrail.

“Damn!” he swore.

“You lost!” crowed Kitty. “You’re a big fat flea! Mommy, now he has to do everything we tell him!”

When they got to Gloria’s House, Nina took Klim to meet the hostess.

Gloria was sitting in the small, smoky kitchen with its whitewashed stove and huge array of shelves holding various pots and dishes. The last rays of the setting sun glowed on the glass jars of jams and preserves, and the smell of toasted sunflower seeds hung in the air.

When she saw Klim, the old woman got to her feet and put her hands on her hips. “What does he want? I don’t have any rooms left to rent.”

“He can stay in my room—” began Nina, but to her surprise, Gloria became angry.

“Where’s he going to sleep, I’d like to ask. You’ve divorced him—let that be an end to it!”

Klim looked at Nina, confused. Evidently, he was not welcome here.

The cockatoo, which was perched on the window sill, suddenly shrieked in a terrible voice: “Take aim, squadron—and fire! Finish him off, I tell you!”

Nina started to argue with Gloria, explaining that she had already warned her that her husband would be arriving.

Klim smiled to himself. How about that? he thought. I’ve been promoted to the rank of husband again.

“It’s all right,” he said. “I’ll go.”

“Stop!” cried Nina. “Wait outside. I’ll sort everything out.”

On the porch, Klim ran into Elkin.

“So, you’ve arrived, have you?” Elkin muttered grimly.

Klim remembered the mother-of-pearl pendant around Nina’s neck. He was starting to realize why he had been given such a cool welcome. Aunt Gloria and her nephew were clearly of one mind.

“Let me give you the money for your car,” said Klim.

He handed Elkin a package of ten-ruble notes. Elkin stuffed them into his pockets without bothering to count them.

“So, do you plan to drive Mashka yourself?” he asked, after a pause. “Or will you hire a chauffeur?”

“When I get back, I’ll sign up for driving lessons at the Red Army Club,” said Klim.

“And when will that be?”

They heard footsteps behind them, and Gloria and Nina came out onto the porch.

“It’s too late tonight to do anything,” muttered the old woman with a hostile glance at Klim. “You can sleep on the terrace if you want. Tomorrow, go to see Ainur—he’s renting some rooms too. He’s not here though. He’s at Koroneli—on the other side of Feodosia.”

Clearly, she wanted to send Klim as far away as possible.

Nina had not expected her hostess to put such obstacles in their path.

“Why are you throwing Klim out?” she asked her. “You said you would help me.”

“And that’s exactly what I am doing!” snapped Gloria. “You had a trap somewhere in your past, and you need to rid yourself of it. Your future happiness is walking about under your nose!”

“Elkin, you mean?” asked Nina tentatively.

“Clever girl! At last, you’ve worked it out for yourself.”

The old woman’s “fortune-telling” had had nothing to do with Klim after all. Nina had simply read her own story into it.

Klim left his cases in Nina’s room and went straight off somewhere with Kitty. Nina went out to look for the two of them on all the nearby beaches but was unable to find them.

When she got back, Elkin announced that it was his birthday. All the holidaymakers were preparing for the celebration with great excitement. Gloria took out some old kerosene lamps from the scullery, and Alyosha and Ira hung them on the apricot trees. The table was laid with bunches of black grapes with a silvery bloom, white cheese made of sheep’s milk, and golden smoked mullet. The women had baked unleavened bread, which filled the air with a delicious aroma.

Musicians had come in from the village together with a whole crowd of Elkin’s friends and acquaintances. One guest rolled up a bottle of new wine; there were not enough glasses to go around, and people took it in turns to drink from the battered enamel mugs.

Nina kept glancing anxiously toward the path down to the sea. Where on earth had Klim got too? It was already dark, and he did not know the way back. What if he got lost?

At last, she heard the dogs barking, and Kitty’s voice rang out, “We’re back!”

Gloria pulled Nina’s sleeve. “Don’t be a fool!” she warned.

But Nina had no chance to “be a fool.” Klim took no notice of her whatsoever. He was asked to dance by a young medical student, Oksana, who had recently arrived in Koktebel. Much to Nina’s annoyance, he seemed happy to accept, and the two of them whirled about so gracefully to the music of the village band that all the guests applauded.

Elkin sat down on the bench next to Nina, looking flushed and happy.

“Recently, we have witnessed a rise in the number of evenings at which young people do nothing but dance,” he said in imitation of a Party member giving a speech. “What benefit is to be had from such events? They achieve nothing except the corruption of the working element! In order to root out this perversion from our society, we must perform dances that reflect the struggle of the working class.”

He was trying to make Nina laugh, but she did not even crack a smile. Hot tears stung her eyes. To stop herself from crying, she gazed at the moon, which hung in the sky over the mountains. Nothing was as before: even the moon seemed too small and pale for Nina.

“Shall I bring you out some baked tomatoes?” Elkin suggested.

Nina nodded, and he ran off to the kitchen.

“Do you have the key to the room?” asked Klim, walking past. “Kitty’s tired. I’ll go and put her to bed.”

Nina got to her feet. “You still haven’t told me anything. Are you leaving tomorrow?”

He raised an eyebrow quizzically. “Are you suggesting I stay to spite our hostess?”

Nina’s heart sank. She had been so hopeful that her new honesty and openness would help her to rebuild her relations with Klim, but he had failed to notice any change in her at all.

Kitty was not in the least bit tired and had no desire to go to bed while everyone around was still dancing and laughing. Klim had taken her up to her room because he himself wanted to get away from Nina.

He was in a very morose frame of mind. What should he do? Take Kitty and set off to another village? That was exactly what he had been dreaming of—spending a couple of weeks with his daughter at the seaside and forgetting all his worries for a fortnight or so. But of course, Nina will throw a spanner in the works. He could sense that she was not going to leave him and Kitty alone.

Klim sat down on the bed beside Kitty and listened for some time to the faint sound of laughter and music from the garden.

Perhaps he should throw caution to the wind and indulge in a mad holiday romance? During the bus journey, he had taken care to avert his gaze from Nina. Still, he had notice the line in the collar of her dress where the sun-tanned flesh on public display gave way to a tantalizing glimpse of creamy golden skin—the threshold of the private chamber into which only the chosen one was admitted. Klim was fairly sure that he could count on gaining permission.

Kitty showed no signs of settling down. “There’s a girl staying downstairs, and she has a gas mask. She says she can put it on in five seconds. I want one too.”

“We’ll get you one when we get back to Moscow,” Klim said.

“Can you get gas masks for horses?”

“I expect so. Go to sleep now.”

“What about giraffes? Elkin made me a giraffe rocking horse. I need to get a gas mask for it too.”

Elkin seems to have been getting all sorts of ideas, Klim thought. Well, I suppose he can dream.

Klim was already picturing the scenario to himself—the seduction of Mrs. Reich. It would be like the classic plot of a Russian novel. A high society lady dreams of leaving her rich husband, and while touring from city to city in the South, she meets an old acquaintance with whom she has previously been in love. They both know the affair can’t last—the holidays will end, and they will go back to their own social circles. But why should they deny themselves the pleasure when fortune is offering them this wonderful opportunity never to be repeated?

Gradually, the voices outside began to die down. The locals were starting to leave for their village and the guests to go off to their bedrooms.

At last, Kitty was asleep. Klim tucked the blanket around her and went out into the corridor. He wandered around the house for some time before he found Nina out on the terrace. She was lying in a hammock between two pillars, rocking herself gently with one foot.

“You can go to your room now,” Klim told her.

Nina sat up hurriedly and began to pull out the pins that had worked themselves loose from her hair.

“Yes, just a minute…” she began but then patted the hammock beside her. “Come and sit. We need to talk.”

“What about?”

“About us.”

The hammock stretched under Klim’s weight, forcing Nina closer to him.

This is it, he thought. This was what he would travel to the ends of the earth to feel—the touch of her thigh, the warmth of her body, which he could feel through two layers of clothes.

“Will you let me explain everything to you?” asked Nina.

Klim put his arms around her and pressed his lips to hers. “Tell me later.”

Nina wound her arms around Klim’s neck, and the giraffe pendant dug painfully into his chest.

“Take this thing off,” he said.

Nina pulled the pendant off over her head and threw it to the floor without a glance.

In his mind, Klim was already gathering her skirt in his hands, kissing her voluptuous breasts, gripping her tightly by her slender wrist to hold her completely in his power, to give her no chance to escape.

He pushed her back onto the hammock, which swayed precariously under them.

“We’ll fall out of here in a minute,” Nina laughed.

Klim bent over her. “If we do, it would be a wonderful illustration of the collapse of contemporary morals.”

Suddenly, a ray of light swept over them, and the cockatoo came fluttering overhead.

“Court martial!” it shrieked, landing on the terrace railing.

Klim raised his head to see Gloria in the doorway, a lantern in her hand. Surrounded by wreaths of pipe smoke, she seemed to be emerging from a cloud.

“Why have you left your daughter alone?” Gloria scolded Nina. “Go back to your room this minute!”

Shamefaced, Nina stood up and began to fasten the buttons of her dress. There was a crunching noise under her foot. She looked down and saw that she had stood on the Elkin’s giraffe figurine.

Gloria shuffled up to Klim and handed him a telegram envelope.

“Here,” she said. “This came yesterday. I forgot to give it to you.”

It was a message from Seibert:

Nina looked at Klim in alarm.

“What is it?” she asked.

He was silent for a minute, gathering his thoughts.

“Take no prisoners!” the squawk of the cockatoo came out of the dark.

“A friend of mine is in trouble,” said Klim. “He needs help, so Kitty and I will have to go back to Moscow tomorrow evening.”

Galina once told me I was the only gentleman of her acquaintance. I fear she was badly mistaken.

A true gentleman should be gallant and chivalrous and never abandon a damsel in distress, especially if that distress takes the form of a desperate desire to kiss him.

When I explained to Nina that I had to return to Moscow out of duty to a friend, she tried to talk me out of it. “Stay here! After all, you love me, don’t you?”

Then, with unforgivable rudeness, I announced that I love my wife—that is the old Nina. Now, she is another man’s spouse. It seems she sees marriage rather like a joint stock company: if her husband doesn’t put in his share in time, she begins to shift her assets and make investments elsewhere. Alas, that isn’t what I want at all.

This made Nina angry.

“You was the one who kissed me first!” she reminded me.

A gentleman in my place would have said something about her charms or about the power of Cupid’s arrow or something else appropriate, but instead, I did something outrageous. I told her that I had had a choice: either to hear details of all her infidelities or to pay Oscar back in kind and to cuckold him just as he had cuckolded me. The second course seemed to me the more interesting one.

“But I told you,” Nina cried, “I’m not going back to Reich!”

“Well, that’s a shame,” I said. “Of course, you could stay with Elkin and be the wife of a country blacksmith for a while, but I imagine that wouldn’t be a very good deal for you.”

Then all hell broke loose. Nina is not only passionate in matters of love; she has a fearsome temper too. She poured such a torrent of abuse at me that I’m afraid I’ll never manage to clear my name.

I was listening respectfully to all this when she suddenly stopped mid-flow and announced that in any case, I would not escape her. She would get ahold of a ticket and come back to Moscow after me, sinner that I am.

Now, I am full of curiosity about what she is planning to do. After all, I haven’t had the holiday I was hoping for, so I’ll have to find my amusement in some other way.

I think I have hit on the right way to handle my relations with Nina. We need less drama, more pragmatism, and a sensible approach to our affairs. We should behave like relatives with shared family concerns. After all, I did want Nina to take a role in bringing up Kitty. If she can get herself settled in Moscow, then we can be on friendly terms.

I am very grateful to Seibert for whisking me away from Koktebel in the nick of time. I came very close to crossing a line I must never cross.