Stephan Collishaw - Amber

‘At the top of the stairs was a large room. It was barely furnished; you know what their rooms were like. Hashim was there, by the window, looking out across the market. The windows were open and the noise of the market drifted in. The air was thick with dust, the stench of sweat, oily smoke and diesel fumes.’

Vassily eased himself forwards in his chair, the blanket slipping off his knees on to the floor. For one moment his eyes glowed again, as they used to.

‘We sat on the carpet and Hashim took out some pieces, some stones◦– nothing significant. I began to think it had been a wasted journey; began, even, to fear that it was a trick after all. And then he took out a 8 leather pouch and came over to me. He took my hand and shook the bracelet out on to my palm.

‘Let me describe it to you, Antanas, comrade, as first I saw it, held it in my youthful hand. I remember the moment as if it were yesterday. The sun cut through the awnings, through the window of the room. The noise and the smell, the hustle and commotion, fell away. The jewel was of the most perfect, clear amber, and it glowed in the sunlight as if it were ablaze. It was oval, huge. Ah, but I’m holding back, I know.’

Vassily laughed. He was perspiring heavily and his hands shook as he held them before him, imagining perhaps the bracelet still in his hand.

‘I could describe the band, the intricate gold lacework that glittered as I drew it close to my eyes. Ha! I’m teasing you◦– myself◦– for the delight, what caught my breath, made me gasp, was inside the flaming oval of amber. The most beautiful specimens.

‘Hashim grinned as my mouth fell open, seeing them. He nodded as I turned the bracelet to examine them from the underside.’

He paused again and wiped his brow with the back of his sleeve. He was looking at me but I could see that his gaze was elsewhere, back in that room in eastern Afghanistan almost ten years before. His hand clenched into a fist, as if he were gripping the jewel.

‘The most beautiful specimens. Two beetles, perfectly preserved. Caught as the resin oozed from the bark of that ancient pine, millions of years ago. Fucking. Yes, caught for eternity, enshrined in their fiery temple, in the act of love.

‘The gold work was stunning, no doubt about it, but that was of little interest to me. It was those beetles. The bracelet. I had heard of it, had read of it years 9 before. Its history was not unknown to me. I could not believe what I held in my hands. You must understand this, Antanas, my comrade, you must understand the madness that possessed me when I saw it.’

He reached out and touched my knee. His gaze had returned to the present, but there was a haunted, almost tortured expression on his face.

‘It’s OK, my friend, it’s OK,’ I reassured him.

‘You don’t understand,’ Vassily said, dropping back into his chair, looking suddenly exhausted. ‘And how could you? We have not spoken about those days.’

‘It’s not important.‘

‘It is.’ Vassily’s face creased with anger. ‘I am a coward, and I have never been able to tell you. I loved you, you are my brother, I did not dare do anything that would…’

His voice trailed away. He reached for the glass and this time, as he took it, his hands shook so much the water spilt down the front of his shirt. I leant forward and steadied his hand.

‘When I returned home from Afghanistan,’ he continued, ‘Kolya and Kirov were both in prison.’ His eyes flicked up again, looking at me, full of remorse. ‘Everything had changed. Ghazis changed everything. I could not sell it after what had happened.’ He hesitated. ‘I had arranged to meet our contact, who sold the jewellery we smuggled from Afghanistan, here in Vilnius. We were to meet in Vingis Park, at a concert celebrating independence. I could not do it. I buried the bracelet instead; buried it along with the past. I took you from the hospital and tried to forget about it all, but it never went away. It stayed here.’ He thumped his chest. ‘Ghazis… Everything.’

I shifted in my chair, uncomfortable, my hands IO trembling, longing for a drink. The vision of Ghazis clouded my mind, like the smoke that had drifted from the village, clogging my lungs. I wiped a bead of perspiration from my forehead.

‘I really should be going,’ I tried again. But Vassily ignored me.

He sank back against the pillows. His skin was grey and glistened with sweat. His breathing was rapid, shallow, painful. His hands trembled on the arms of the chair.

‘You must find Kolya,’ he said urgently. ‘He will tell you all about what happened. Take him to the bracelet and he will tell you all.’

‘I’m not interested, Vassily,’ I said.

I longed to get out. My chest felt tight, constricting my breathing. My head spun and I noticed that my own hands were shaking.

‘You must, comrade, my friend, you must. Promise me. I am a coward still, I know. I should tell you myself. The whole tale. Promise me you will find him?’

He looked into my eyes, beseechingly. I squirmed under his gaze.

‘But how am I supposed to find Kolya?’ I asked, irritated and bewildered by his demand. ‘Or take him to this bracelet?’

Vassily reached behind him and pulled out a crinkled envelope. He handed it to me carefully.

‘It came not long ago,’ he said. ‘It is a letter from Kolya.’ He pressed the envelope into my hand. ‘It seems he is back in Vilnius. He’s been in Kaliningrad for some years, from what I hear. When he was released from prison, he came to see me, demanding money. “His share,” as he put it. He was a total mess; prison had only made his problem with drugs worse. I gave him some money and he disappeared. For years I heard nothing from him, then a few months ago I received this.’ He indicated the letter. ‘He’s back in Vilnius for medical treatment. He needs some money. I haven’t got anything to give him, but perhaps, after all, the bracelet can do some good.’

Reluctantly I took the envelope from him. I sighed, and slipped it into the pocket of my jacket.

‘The letter doesn’t have his home address on it,’ Vassily continued, ‘but there must be some clue here◦– the clinic perhaps. On the back of his letter I have written how the bracelet can be found. Promise me you will find him. He will tell you what I am not able to. The bracelet cost so much. The price was too great.’

The door creaked open and Tanya, his wife, slipped into the room. Seeing Vassily looking so pale, his hair slick with sweat, the blanket around his feet, she hurried over to him. Questioningly she looked at me, as she pulled the blanket up around his knees, and wiped his forehead.

Vassily gripped my hand.

‘We have been good friends, no? The years have been good ones? We have forgotten together. We have laughed together. You will not hate me, when you hear the story, tovarich ◦– comrade, you will forgive your friend?’

I squeezed his hand. ‘Of course,’ I said. ‘Of course, my friend.’

‘I have stayed too long,’ I added partly to Tanya, partly to her husband, who still held on to my hand. ‘It is late. I must go and let you get some rest.’

In the dark passageway, as I opened the front door of their apartment, I paused. Tanya was close behind me. I touched her cheek gently. She trembled slightly, 12 and when she held me I could feel how hard she struggled to hold back the tears.

‘He’s been on edge for the last few days,’ Tanya said. ‘He gets so angry and it’s draining the last of his strength.’

It was late October and the evening was cold. Above the rooftops, the newly risen moon hung despondently. The cathedral was ghostly pale, the streets quiet. For some minutes I stood on the cracked paving outside the door of his apartment block, my mind reeling, memories bubbling up, seeping across the floor of my consciousness, flooding it.