Dmitri and the Milk-Drinkers. Michael Pearce

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СКАЧАТЬ you and everyone else say that she is a serious girl; and she was at the Law Courts. Might there not be a connection between that and her disappearance?’

      ‘Why did you ask me about politics?’

      ‘Because that could be the connection.’

      ‘You think she has run off to be a revolutionary?’ said Vera derisively.

      ‘Well, young people from good families do sometimes go off these days. Not to become a revolutionary but to work for a cause. Giving out literature, addressing meetings, organizing with others – ’

      Vera Semeonova shook her head.

      ‘Anyone less likely to become a political activist than Anna Semeonova,’ she said firmly, ‘you never saw. For that kind of thing you require a degree of hardness, perhaps, even a degree of hate. Anna Semeonova wasn’t like that at all. She was a sweet, gentle girl, full of sympathy for others.’

      ‘All right,’ said Dmitri, ‘perhaps I’ve got it wrong. I don’t know the girl, I’ve hardly even spoken to her. Let me try something else on you; you said she was full of sympathy for others. Is it possible that she could have gone off in some daft quixotic way to work for the poor? In a monastery, perhaps – no, not monastery, her parents said she’d gone off the Church, but something like that?’

      ‘A sort of personal “Going to the People”?’ asked Vera, interested.

      She was referring to the great movement of some years earlier which had sent hundreds of idealistic young people out into the countryside to work for the improvement of the poor; an initiative that the poor had not universally appreciated.

      ‘That sort of thing,’ said Dmitri, who had sided with the poor on this matter.

      ‘She said nothing to me,’ said Vera.

      ‘Oh, well …’

      But Vera was thinking.

      ‘It’s a long shot,’ she said, pulling a prescription pad towards her, ‘but I can give you the name of a family. I mentioned them to her once – it was the last time she came – when we were talking about the way in which conditions contribute to infant mortality. You know, drunken father, ignorant mother, poverty, dirt, dozens of children already. Anna could hardly believe some of the examples I gave. She asked if there was anyone I knew whom she could go and see, so I told her about the Stichkovs. She wouldn’t come to any harm, the man is always unconscious and the woman is warm and kindly, quite motherly, really, in fact, far too much so – ’

      Dmitri felt oppressed by the sheer fecundity. One babe was at Mrs Stichkov’s breast, two, hardly bigger, at her feet. Elsewhere in the room there appeared to be three more infants and there were certainly at least two outside. From time to time one of the children at her feet hauled himself up Mrs Stichkov’s skirt and applied himself to her free breast.

      ‘It’s food, after all,’ said Mrs Stichkov, ‘and there’s not much of that about with Ivan not working.’

      Ivan was certainly not working. He was stretched on his back in a far corner of the room snoring loudly. Even at this distance, Dmitri could smell the vodka.

      ‘He doesn’t work much,’ Mrs Stichkov acknowledged.

      Except, thought Dmitri, when he roused himself to perform his conjugal duties, which appeared to be pretty frequently.

      ‘Not since he’s hurt his back,’ supplemented Mrs Stichkov.

      ‘Ah, he’s hurt his back?’

      ‘Carrying the loads. He can’t carry a thing now. Not even the water. You need a man for that, the buckets are that heavy! Anna Semeonova tried to help me once, but she couldn’t even lift the pail, not when it was full. You need a man, really, and she’s just a slip of a girl.’

      ‘She tried to help you, did she?’

      ‘Yes, Your Excellency. She said, “It’s not right, not with you expecting and all.” But I said, “Lots of things are not right, and if I don’t do it, who will?” “I will,” she said, and she tried, but, bless her, she couldn’t even lift it. “You look after Vasya”, I said, “and I will do it.” “It’s not right,” she said, “not with your time so close,” and she just stood there. And then Marfa Nikolaevna came along and said, “No, it’s not right. That idle man of hers ought to do it, but he won’t lift a finger.” She’s got a sharp tongue, that woman has. “I’ll find someone, Mrs Stichkov,” she said. And off she goes and comes back with one of the men from her place. Mind you, he wasn’t that much better than Anna Semeonova, nor much bigger, neither, not with him being a Jew. Still, what do I care about that. I said to Ivan, “At least he gave me a hand, which is more than can be said for some people – ”’

      Mrs Stichkov shifted the baby from one breast to the other, gently detaching the other child as she did so.

      ‘– And then he gives me a cuff!’ she said cheerfully. ‘I don’t mind, it’s not much of one – he can hardly stand up, he’s that drunk – but Anna Semeonova gets very angry. I can see she’s going to say something, so I say quickly: “Don’t mind him, love, it’s just his way!” But she doesn’t like it, I can see that, and she goes out, and a little later I hear her talking to Marfa Nikolaevna. Which is all very well, I’m not saying that the woman is wrong, but you have to watch out with her. Sometimes it’s better to let things rest easy. But she won’t, you see, she’s always got to out with it, and when it’s man and wife, it doesn’t pay to meddle.’

      Over in the corner, Ivan moved loudly. Mrs Stichkov looked at him lovingly.

      ‘You don’t always know what a marriage is like,’ she said, ‘not from outside. Especially not if you’re a single woman. “What does she know about it?” I say to Anna Semeonova. But Anna Semeonova stands there cold and unforgiving. “You’re too forgiving, Mrs Stichkov,” she says. “Sometimes those outside can see better.” But then, she’s another, isn’t she? Single?’

      ‘I believe so,’ said Dmitri.

      ‘She won’t be for long,’ said Mrs Stichkov. ‘Not a girl like her. So pretty! A real Russian! And rich, too. Or so Ivan says. “Stay on the right side of her,” he says, “and it’ll be worth a rouble or two.”’

      ‘She’s never said anything about having a boyfriend, has she?’ said Dmitri, still diligent to eliminate options.

      ‘Boyfriend?’ Mrs Stichkov chuckled. ‘She’s not found out yet what it is men carry inside their trousers! A real innocent! “And it’s best if she stays like that,” I said to Marfa Nikolaevna, “so don’t you go putting any of your ideas in her head!”’

      ‘What sort of ideas?’ said Dmitri.

      Mrs Stichkov looked vague.

      ‘Ideas,’ she said.

      Dmitri tried again.

      ‘This Marfa Nikolaevna,’ he said, ‘what sort of woman is she?’

      ‘She’s got a sharp tongue. Everyone knows that! There’s hardly anyone who’s not felt the rough edge of her tongue at some time or another. That’s why it is no one will have her. And that, of course, only makes her СКАЧАТЬ