Andrea Bennett - Two Cousins of Azov

‘Raises the hatch!’ Valya rolled her eyes and took a serviette from the pile on the table. ‘A man behind the counter? That’s enough there, isn’t it, for dismissal? And then?’

‘It gets worse. They start… you know… kissing. Maria can’t see, but she can hear. And she hears zippers, you know, zipping, and clothes… ripping. And panting: bottles rattling on the shelves; moaning, groaning—’

‘I get the picture.’ Valya’s cheeks glowed as she blotted her forehead.

‘And this is in the shop, with the lights on and everything! There are medicines about!’

‘Exactly! Think of the medicines! What happened next?’

‘The counter starts creaking. Creaking, it is! And there’s rattling, and before you know it – bottles smashing! Of course, Maria has to go right out there and shouts blue murder! Sacks Polly on the spot!’

‘Ah-ha! Oh my goodness! Polly! Ha! My poor Vlad!’

‘They had their pants round their ankles and their bits on display like tomatoes at the market! Doing it on the counter, with no thought for the stock!’

‘Ahh, ha-ha! No! That’s terrible! What is the world coming to?’ Valya’s laugh hissed like a snake. ‘I don’t know whether to laugh or cry!’ She dabbed at her eyes.

‘Polly starts screeching like fury, blaming Vlad and cursing him. Maria Trushkina threatens to call the police, it’s that bad – she’s afraid for her safety! And Vlad, of course, zips out of there like a scalded tom – away into the night.’ Alla took a breath. ‘So, that’s it! Finished! She won’t be able to get me those tablets any more, will she?’

‘Oh no! That’s terrible. Poor you!’

‘What a hussy! She’s really let me down! I helped her get that position, I did! I pleaded with Maria Trushkina. But I always knew she was a bad one. I only did it as a favour to her poor mother!’

‘Well, you know my views.’

‘But listen: now Maria can’t bear to touch the counter, where it happened… she can’t put tablets on it, as if it’s haunted!

‘Woo! Ha ha!’ Valya twisted her buttocks into her seat as Alla hid her face in mock disgust.

‘And worse: the place is covered in Zelenka.’

‘Oh no!’ Now Valya’s hands flew to her cheeks. ‘The antiseptic?’

‘That’s what was broken: two bottles of Zelenka!’

‘I thought there was a funny smell in the bathroom this morning!’ Valya hissed into her tea, eyes streaming. ‘You can’t get rid of Zelenka.’

‘Such a silly girl,’ Alla coughed and wiped her eyes with a crispy serviette. ‘I tried so hard to support her. She’s ruined now, of course. They’ll throw her out of university.’

‘Mmm.’ Valya slurped her tea. ‘I’ve got no sympathy. Deserves it. And what about my Vlad?’

‘Well, it wasn’t really his fault, was it? She led him on. He’s only a man, after all.’

‘Yes. That’s true. But still: embarrassing for him. Oh, poor Vlad! I hope it won’t, you know… affect his studies. He’s quite sensitive.’

The two women sipped their drinks. A young girl and her boyfriend walked past, hand in hand, laughing.

‘She was useful when she got your tablets,’ said Valya, ‘at least we can say that for her.’

‘And she gave me good advice about my you-know-what,’ replied Alla. ‘But I’ll have to break with her now, won’t I? After that? And I’ll have to tell her mother.’ Alla nodded into her hot water. ‘Strange girl. She never seemed happy, did she?’

‘No, not happy. But that’s no excuse.’

‘You’re right. After all, who is? She’s dead to me now. Dead!’

‘Come on, time to go. I need to see if Vlad’s all right, poor boy! At least you’ll have something to talk about over the counter tomorrow, eh?’

Alla drained her hot water and pulled on her gloves. ‘Oh yes. Although I don’t like to gossip.’

‘No. Me neither. Terrible thing, gossip.’

‘Well, Mama seemed better,’ said Albina, after they’d had their allotted ten-minute phone call.

‘Yes, she’s stopped coughing, did you notice?’

Albina nodded.

Gor put a pan of milk on the hob ready for cocoa while Albina released the kittens from their play-pen. He could hear their downy mews as she came back into the kitchen with them scooped up in the hem of her jumper.

‘They’re so sweet. I’d keep them all, if I were you. They’re more cuddly than Kopek.’

Gor was about to say that things with beaks were rarely cuddly, when the telephone bleeped. He looked in its direction. Albina looked at him, but neither moved.

It rang five more times, six, seven, eight.

‘Are you going to answer it?’

Gor said nothing.

‘Why don’t you ever answer your telephone? I’ll answer it for you!’ She skipped out to the phone, one hand still holding the jumper-sling of small cats. Gor attended to the drinks, keeping half an ear on Albina. She came back. ‘No one there. I asked and asked, but no one spoke. So I wished them luck – in Japanese, of course.’ She smiled.

‘You’re a good girl.’

‘The phone was ringing last night too, wasn’t it?’

‘Yes.’

‘And I heard tapping on the window, when I was in bed.’

Gor sighed. ‘Yes, I thought you might. I’m sorry about that.’

‘Is it the spirits?’

‘No.’

‘I didn’t think so either. Why don’t you do something about it?’

‘Well, Albina, we were doing something about it, remember? But your mama got injured, and now… well… What can I do?’ He hunched his shoulders and turned to her. ‘What can I really do? We must ignore it. I have other things to worry about.’ He ran a hand around the back of his neck, dry skin on dry skin, and busied himself once more with the cocoa.

‘But,’ she said, kicking the door jamb, ‘that’s like giving in, isn’t it? Letting them win.’

‘They’re not winning, whoever they are. And there’s nothing to win, Albina. The whole thing is… ridiculous.’

A knock rang out on the apartment door. Albina’s eyes stared into Gor’s tired face. Together, they went to answer.

‘We must be careful,’ cautioned Gor.

He checked the spy hole.

‘No one.’

‘But they knocked.’

‘Albina—’

‘Open it! Don’t be scared.’

‘Very well.’

He released the bolts and the door creaked. No one was there. However, the dull brown light of the corridor eventually picked out the corpse of a crow, sodden, black and worm-ridden, lying on the door mat. There was a message tucked underneath it. Gor shifted the body with his foot.

‘What does it say?’ whispered Albina.

They stared at each other.

‘You see? No point answering the door!’ Gor tipped the crow down the rubbish chute and bolted the door.

They sat at the little table to drink their cocoa. Albina swung her legs, rubbing her toes on the old brown lino. Outside, the wind whistled around the building, sharp edged from Siberia.

‘I will fry some potatoes and cutlets. I think there’s a tin of peas somewhere… we won’t let them beat us.’

‘Don’t bother with the peas,’ murmured Albina as she ran a determined finger around the bottom of her cup to retrieve a lick of chocolatey mush.

The tapping started after they had eaten, and as Albina gave Gor her assessment of his record collection. He was seated in his armchair by the piano, Albina huddled in a heap on the floor with the kittens and a blanket. She had brought a pair of teasels home from the dacha and the kittens were fighting them, the prickles sticking all over the rug.