Dan Smith - The Child Thief

But the men had moved beyond that and were now hiking away, seven dark stains on the glorious white. They were heading up the back of the shallow valley towards a line of poplar trees that stood on the crest like a regiment of well trained soldiers. Tall and straight they stood; their branches reaching upwards, their narrow bodies proud. In the summer they would be a soft green against the pale blue sky, and the field would be filled with red winter wheat moving in waves. The gold and green would ripple as the breeze moved through it. And just below the window, around the base of the fence, flowers would spring with colourful life.

‘Where are they going?’ Lara asked.

‘They must have found something,’ Viktor said. ‘A trail maybe.’

I turned to look at Lara, but she wasn’t watching the figures advancing on the poplars. She was sitting with her back to the window, scrutinising the medal. Or at least that’s what she wanted us to think, because as I watched her, she dared a sideways glance at me and I saw the secret in her eyes.

She quickly looked away, creasing her brow, inspecting the medal.

‘What is it, Lara?’ I asked her. ‘What’s the matter?’

She didn’t answer.

‘I want you to tell me,’ I said, going to sit beside her. ‘I know there’s something.’

Again the sideways glance.

‘Larissa, if there’s something you know, I want you to tell me right now.’ And I sensed something move in to replace my anger at Dimitri and Svetlana and the others. I felt my own urgency before I realised it was there. An unease crept in, like cold fingers slipping around the back of my neck. Seeing those figures moving up the valley, and with the impression that Lara was hiding something, I began to wonder if there was more to this. Something was wrong.

‘Lara.’ I softened my voice.

She looked at me. She was deciding, struggling with her thoughts.

‘You’re not in any trouble,’ Natalia said. ‘Do you know where Dariya is? Her mama and papa are worried about her. Something might have happened to her.’

A glistening redness washed over her dark eyes. She tightened her lips, her chin rising a touch.

I ran a hand over her head. ‘You’re not in trouble, my angel, I promise, but you must tell me—’

And with the compassionate tone from both mother and father, the tears came as they inevitably would. And to accompany them, the words of confession to a crime that was no crime at all.

‘We sometimes go up to the trees,’ she said. ‘We have a place where we play.’

And I didn’t need to ask why she hadn’t told us. She wasn’t allowed there, that was all. She had been forbidden to go that far from the village.

‘And you think that’s where she may have gone?’

Lara nodded.

‘Why do you think that?’ Natalia asked, sitting beside us. ‘Did she say she was going?’

She shook her head. ‘I saw.’

‘You saw?’

‘I saw her go. After Petro brought me back and you made me come inside, I was sitting here and I saw her run around the house. She ran around and went straight up. I watched her all the way to the trees.’

‘Where those men are now?’ I pointed at the window and the dark smudges on the snow beyond.

Lara nodded.

‘OK,’ I said. ‘Good girl.’

‘Am I in trouble?’ she asked.

‘We’ll talk about that later.’

I took Natalia’s elbow and beckoned her through to the front room. ‘Do you think Dariya saw what they did? What her father did?’

‘Perhaps.’

‘Why else would she run away like that?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Dimitri’s such an idiot. What he did. Trying to do it to make his child safe, and now he’s damaged her for ever. Imagine if you saw your father do a thing like that. String a man up from a tree and—’

‘That’s enough.’ She glanced over my shoulder at the bedroom door. ‘We have to live with these people. They’re our friends, Luka. Svetlana’s my sister. And Dariya is safe.’

‘If she hasn’t frozen to death up there, have you thought about that?’

‘Luka.’

‘You imagine how that idiot will feel if he’s driven his daughter away to freeze to death on the rise. Hanging a man to make her safe, while frightening her away to die.’

‘Luka!’ her voice harsh but quiet. The words hissed. And her eyes were over my shoulder again.

I turned to see Lara behind me. Fresh tears in her eyes. ‘It’s my fault,’ she said. ‘I killed Dariya.’ She ran to her mother and threw her arms around her.

‘No, angel, she’ll be fine. You’ll see. The men will find Dariya.’ Natalia narrowed her eyes at me and stroked our daughter’s hair, running her hardened fingers over her head.

‘Will you go?’ Lara turned to look at me. ‘You’ll find her.’

I forced a smile. ‘If Dariya is there, your Uncle Dimitri will find her. They don’t need me.’

‘Please,’ she said.

‘Lara, it’s not your fault.’

‘It is my fault, Papa. I should have told you I saw her, but I was afraid I’d get into trouble.’

‘You’re not in any trouble.’ Natalia held her tighter.

‘Please, Papa. Please find Dariya.’

‘Of course he will, won’t you, Papa?’ Natalia glared at me.

I sighed and nodded. ‘OK, angel, if it’s what you want. I’ll help them look.’

To my daughter I was still a hero. I was still a figure of strength and adult wisdom. She had not yet grown to understand that even fathers are fallible. That even fathers make mistakes, just as everyone else does. And even fathers cannot beat all the odds.

‘Thank you, Papa.’

I sat on a chair and pulled on my boots before taking my coat from the hook by the door. I stood for a moment and looked at my daughter. ‘Don’t worry,’ I said. ‘We’ll find Dariya.’

‘Promise?’

‘Yes, my angel. I promise.’

Adding my own footsteps to the many stale ones which now littered my land, I went round the house and climbed over the fence, starting up the gentle slope towards the line of poplars and the dark smudges that lay within. In the field beneath my feet, winter wheat seedlings lay in the stubble of the last harvest, buried beneath the snow.

To the west, the sun was low on the horizon, spreading a muddled amber glow across the steppe. A beautiful sight for eyes that had never seen it, the sign of approaching darkness to those that had witnessed it countless times. It would drop within the hour, orange turning to red, like blood spilling across the snow, then it would bow its head and be gone from our world for another night. And the most bitter cold would sweep in to replace it.

The snow was deep here but I tried to move quickly as I crossed the field I would harvest and re-sow next year. At least, that’s what I had done in past years, but I knew this year might be different. By then the land might not be mine any longer. It might belong to the state and I would be forced to work on it for nothing or be sent away to Kazakhstan, Siberia, somewhere they could wring the sweat from my body and make me work until my heart refused to beat any longer.

I followed to one side of the mess of tracks, while the men before me had walked directly in Dariya’s footsteps. The poplars cast shadows that fell long and dark across the snow-covered steppe, and I headed towards them, wondering what the men had found. Maybe Dimitri was scolding his daughter right now, telling her she shouldn’t have run away, bearing accusing looks from eyes that had witnessed her father’s cruelty. Or, worse, they might have found only her cold body, her blood frozen in her veins, her eyes hardened. But the truth was worse than that.

As I came closer, I could hear voices and see the shapes of men among the trees.