Andrea Bennett - Two Cousins of Azov

‘She’s in shock,’ said Gor. ‘Sveta, you’ve been very brave, but now you need to go home and lie down. We will come back and speak to Vlad another time.’

‘Actually, I’d like to suggest she be seen by our resident doctor, Dr Spatchkin.’ Vlad turned to Sveta. ‘You could stay here for a night or two, Sveta – in the ladies’ wing, of course! Just for a rest, and to let your hands heal. I don’t think the wounds are serious, but… we will take good care of you. It’s nice here: far better than Hospital No. 4. You need to rest, and I can get you anything you need,’ Vlad added as she was about to argue, and a boyish smile flitted across his face. ‘Just ask.’

Sveta nodded. ‘Maybe I should stay. I do feel… odd.’ Small beads of sweat stood out on her forehead and on the hairs of her upper lip. ‘Perhaps I should have a rest.’

‘But Mama—’

‘She will go to the Tereshkova wing,’ Vlad addressed Gor. ‘For ladies. She will be in good hands. It is very peaceful at this time of year, and it’s on the other side of the building so… no smoke.’

He held her arm as she was lowered to a stretcher that had appeared by her side, carried by another set of smut-spattered orderlies.

‘Perhaps you should go with your mother, Albina? She will need you for comfort and support,’ said Gor. ‘Don’t worry. I will come along in a while to take you home.’

The breath caught in Albina’s throat and she stared at her mama. ‘But there’ll be no one at home! Mama will be here! And I will be all alone!’ She grabbed the stretcher, her grip threatening to flip her mother onto the floor. ‘Mama! Mama! What am I to do! Don’t leave me!’

‘Oh, malysh , careful with Mummy’s hand!’

‘Be calm!’ Gor pressed Albina’s shoulder. ‘We will sort something out. Is there a neighbour you can stay with?’

‘Only Auntie Vera, but Mama, don’t make me stay with her! She drinks vodka and beats her cats!’

‘Akh!’ moaned Sveta. ‘My hands! I can feel them! Oh, that hurts.’

‘Don’t make me stay with her!’

‘Hush child!’ Gor cut in. ‘Very well: if there is no one else, you can stay with me until your mother is rested. There is no need to howl.’

‘Are you sure that’s wise?’ asked Vlad. ‘When there are strange things going on at your apartment?’

‘And what business is it of yours, Vlad?’ Gor struggled to keep his tone even.

The student sucked in his cheeks. Around them orderlies bustled and grumbled, scratching over shards of burnt armchair and blobs of charred ceiling tile. The two holding the stretcher shuffled their feet and coughed loudly.

‘It’s not my business.’ Vlad smiled. ‘I don’t know why… anyway, Sveta, please be on your way. I will pop in to check on you in a day or two.’ He crinkled his eyes at her.

She smiled back, and turned her head to her daughter. ‘Be a good girl for Gor, Albina. I’m going to have a little sleep now.’ She kissed the hand still gripping her shoulder, and yawned. She was borne off, back down the dingy corridor. Albina went to follow, but was stilled by Vlad’s single raised digit.

‘No visitors today, young lady,’ he said softly. ‘Your mama needs silence, and rest. You can visit her after the weekend.’

‘But my mama!’ she wailed.

The doors swung shut with a sudden, echoing clunk. Vlad pressed a hand against them.

‘Ah! The security doors have locked,’ he said with a frown. ‘That’s unusual! I don’t have the key for this one.’

Gor shook his head. ‘By all that’s holy! First the alarms don’t work, and now we’re locked in!’

The younger man turned to him with a stern face. ‘We do the best we can, in the circumstances. Why are you here anyway, Papasyan?’ He raised an eyebrow. ‘Ah, you’ve come to visit, at last?’

‘Visit? Pah!’ Gor made a face of distaste. ‘We came to talk to you.’

‘Me?’

‘We had some questions, about the séance.’

‘Ah! I see. But wait!’ Vlad opened his eyes wide. ‘Madame Zoya warned of fire – and here you are, and there’s a fire! That’s scary, isn’t it?’ He looked from Gor to Albina and back again, nodding.

‘I’m not scared,’ Gor said tetchily.

‘Me neither,’ said Albina.

‘Oh? Right… well, that’s good. But I’m sorry – I can’t talk now. I’m on duty, and as you can see, we have mess to clear up, and elderly residents to reassure. They’re roaming the corridor, all out of sorts. They don’t understand they’re safer in here than on the marsh.’ He shrugged his shoulders. ‘I suppose I’ll have to let you out this way. Please follow me!’

Vlad set off through the door from which he had earlier appeared, slapping his feet on the floor in precise strides.

‘All guests to their rooms, please!’ he called out. ‘No need for alarm! The fire was very small, and it’s out now. All is well!’ He coughed as he spoke. ‘Close the sitting-room doors,’ he barked at an orderly, ‘the smell is making them worry.’

Gor and Albina followed. Doors stood open as staff tried to reassure the confused and infirm that the emergency was truly over and bed was the best place to be. Their efforts weren’t helped by the wail of a redundant fire engine floating up from the marshes as it picked its way along the creek towards them. Vlad slammed doors energetically as he progressed.

A broad orderly, face glistening with sweat, stood hands on hips in a doorway arguing with someone who very much wanted to go outside. Vlad looked in, and Gor heard raised voices.

They waited in the corridor. Gor felt the weight of claustrophobia in his chest. He was impatient to leave now: it had a strange atmosphere, this place, threatening and close, despite the high ceilings. The smell of new paint didn’t help. He started walking for the doors at the end of the corridor.

‘Come, Albina!’

The girl was standing at a doorway half-way along, peering in.

In the flicker of a strip-light she saw a figure standing at the end of a bed: an old man, short but wide, with wild grey hair. He swayed on his feet, trembling and muttering.

He was facing the door, but his eyes were shut. Both hands were held stiffly out in front of him, the pudgy fingers tightly crossed. His mouth was moving. Albina leant forward to hear. A hurried whisper escaped his mouth, high and thin.

‘Comrade Stalin, protect me! Protect me, Comrade Stalin!’

She squinted. Her initial reaction – to giggle – was displaced by something deeper that made her stomach clench. The man was terrified. His mottled eyelids fluttered and one bright green eye peeled open. A high-pitched shriek escaped his mouth.

‘I’m sorry!’ she mumbled as she backed away, hurrying out into the corridor, stumbling to catch up with Gor. She jumped as Vlad slammed the opposite door and leapt up the corridor behind them.

‘Time to go!’ he smiled, pushing Albina along in front of him and grasping Gor’s arm above the elbow. ‘Matron is angry!’

‘But when will we speak? I—’

‘Another day, please! Just phone first, yes? You understand: I can’t always be available.’

Vlad stopped before the dusty double doors and twisted a key in the lock. ‘Take the stairs down, go left along the corridor and out at the door with the push-bar. Come back and knock loudly if it won’t open.’

He propelled them through the door, nodded to both and slammed it shut, locking them out.

Albina pushed her face against the grimy glass, following the student doctor’s progress back up the glowing green corridor. She watched as he stopped at the doorway to Room No. 6. He looked in for a long moment, shook his head, and then shut that too.

‘That was scary.’