TANIAlay on her bunk, imagining the moment when she would find herself in General Grivetsky’s arms. She had proved herself worthy of the general’s attention, she thought defiantly. By violating the rules she had risked her career, her medals for outstanding achievement, her future security, everything she held dear, for love of the general.
Before she lay down on the bunk, she had scrubbed herself until she was thoroughly cleansed and sweet-smelling. She laid a freshly starched uniform across the covers of her bunk, then lay down to wait for the right moment.
What she was contemplating, of course, was another violation. Cohabiting with the passengers was a grievous infringement of the rules and she wanted, above all, to keep the secret from Katrina Ivanov. She had enough on Katrina Ivanov on the matter of the Jewish couple to have her removed from the Railway Workers, but it was best to trust no one. The old woman had accepted a second bribe from the Jew, this time promising to help him carry out the body at Irkutsk and put it in the baggage car, which was like an icebox.
The sooner the better, Tania thought. If the body began to stink and was discovered by an inspector, it would only create more problems for her.
When she thought of the key she had given the general, she admitted to some uneasiness, but she was sure the general would confront the KGB men and soon put matters straight. A general had more power than a KGB man anyway, she thought, remembering the pleasure she had taken in feeling the material of his uniform, caressing the insignia.
The train began to slow and she hopped out of bed. Quickly she took off her robe and put on her clean starched uniform, buttoning it with nervous fingers. Then she stepped into a half slip, giggling as she took her cotton panties and, instead of putting them on, neatly folded them in the pocket of her uniform. She felt wicked, a trifle silly, as she stood poised against the compartment door. Then the train jerked to a halt and she moved swiftly down the hall to the general’s compartment.
She tapped lightly and waited for his response. It was past midnight and in the sudden silence of the train she could hear faint stirrings, coughs, whispers, hints of life behind each door. She tapped louder. Perhaps he is sleeping, she thought. She tapped again, feeling her giddiness recede. Then the train began to move and she heard Katrina Ivanov’s cackling voice.
“He is gone,” she said. She had been outside to fetch pails of charcoal, and her nose was red and running snot. Melting snow dripped down the sides of her coat.
“That is ridiculous,” Tania said, panic rising. “The manifest has him ticketed to Chita.”
“Just the same, he got off three hours ago.” She thought a moment. “In Angarsk.”
“You stupid old woman,” Tania said with contempt. “I promised I would shine his shoes.”
“Well, then you can go back to sleep. He is gone.”
Tania grabbed the old woman and shook her angrily. Lumps of charcoal rattled in the pail.
“I tell you he is gone.”
“You old crone. You liar.”
“See for yourself.”
Tania hesitated. She had given Grivetsky her key, and now had none of her own. Not to be delayed, Katrina Ivanov put the two pails of charcoal on the floor and produced her own master key. Tania unlocked the door.
“See,” the old crone said. “I cleaned it myself. The red-haired man packed his things.”
“The red-haired man?”
“The one in that compartment.”
Tania felt her anger rise as she looked about. the compartment. The bunks had been neatly arranged and all signs of the general were gone.
“I brought the baggage to the top of the stairwell. I think he got off with the red-haired man.”
“At Angarsk.”
“Yes.”
“But it’s only a tiny hamlet. In the middle of nowhere.”
The old woman shrugged.
“And you saw them get off?”
The old woman looked at the ceiling, hesitating.
“Did you see them get off?”
“No. I was too busy. They were ready to get off. What does it matter? They come and they go.”
Tania kicked the door shut in the old woman’s face and stood in the center of the compartment. He would not have left without a good-bye, she thought bitterly, swept by frustration and disappointment. Her hand smoothed the pillow he had slept on. How could he? She walked into the washroom. Surely there was something, some sign, some remembrance. On the floor under the stainless-steel sink she found a toothbrush, which she picked up tenderly, as if it were alive. She placed it in the pocket where she had thrust her panties and went back to her own compartment.
The train had started again, moving relentlessly through the heavy snow. He was gone, lost forever. Just another passenger on the way to somewhere. She sank heavily into the chair, feeling a terrible chill crawl up her bare legs, moving upward like an icy skewer. She waited deliberately, knowing that it would soon reach the heart of her, chasing the last vestiges of her warmth.