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CHAPTER 24 : A VACATION IS ARRANGED
Anatoly, Dr Mendeleyev and Neena are facing each other through computer screens. They are holding a regular on-line meeting to discuss the progress of a number of novice slaves as they progress through their training. The meeting has been in progress for some time and they have reached what will be the two most difficult items.
"Igor Ivanovitch? The next item is ‘Research Reports’ and you want to speak to this?"
Dr Mendeleyev clears his throat." Yes, thank you, Anatoly Sergeyevitch. This is my item. As you probably know, it is normal for Academics such as Julia Romanova and I to publish our work. Indeed Higher Education has almost become an international commodity. MSU is very keen to rise to the top of the ‘world league of universities’, so the Rector expects to see a continuous output of research papers from all departments."
"Quite so, and the consequence for us?"
"Is that we have begun to publish the results of the Vyera Investigation."
"So?"
"Other research groups will become aware of what we have accomplished."
"The usual consequence of publication, I think. Do you have concerns? Someone in particular?"
"In particular, there is Angela Dawney. Her in particular because I first suggested an investigation on these lines to her. It was a casual, perhaps ‘tongue in cheek’ suggestion and I was astonished to see how quickly she had picked up the idea and made progress with it."
"And she will be surprised to see her own data in print under your name?"
The image of Mendeleyev shifts uncomfortably on the screen in front of Anatoly.
"There are two issues, Anatoly Sergeyevitch. First, I should have discussed the commercial sensitivity of the data with you, so I apologise. However, you should know that MSU is very keen to exploit commercial advantage for its own ends, so perhaps it is wise not to alert their income generation people by classifying this particular work as ‘commercially sensitive’ "
"Second, Dawney will be alerted to the data but she will not know that it is the same data that Vyera was collecting in the UK. Only that the investigation and data is very similar. She may, of course, just think that we have proceeded with my original idea after all."
Anatoly snorts, it would hardly be like Angela to remember that someone else had an idea before she did.
"Third", the image of Mendeleyev looks down and Anatoly immediately knows that this is where the real trouble lies, "in our first report the authors were listed as Mendeleyev, Romanova and Kuznetsova. We had intended to keep Vyera’s name off the paper but through an oversight, it was sent to the journal intact and Vyera’s very own manuscript was used."
"Ah." Anatoly paused to assess the potential significance of this new fact.
"Has Dawney a list of your staff?"
"No, of course not."
"So there is nothing to connect Vyera Anatol’yevna Kuznetsova with Jennifer Karin McEwan?"
"Not directly but the manuscript is in Vyera’s words. They might match the words she had used in similar written work before she was brought here."
"Ah I see but she has been with us for many months now. Surely her previous work will have been discarded?"
"Possibly, and then again, possibly not."
"And you propose?"
"We cannot retract the report but we can make sure that VA Kuznetsova never appears again in future reports. I do not think Vyera has any further expectations of an academic career."
"I don’t think we plan to sponsor any further research at this point," Anatoly says, drily. "Thank you, Igor Ivanovitch. Clearly we must keep a careful watch."
Anatoly pauses for a moment or so and weighs Mendeleyev’s concerns in his own mind. There is nothing which can be done now but it is certainly a mistake. The best they can do is to make sure it does not become a bigger one.
"Now, next item. Tell me about the progress of", he glances down to check a name, "of Pavea?"
Dr Mendeleyev and Neena both take a deep breath. Pavea has proven to be a very awkward project.
Neena begins. "I have to be frank, Anatoly Sergeyevitch. She is difficult. Progess is slow but progress is being made. I think she is beginning to break."
"Igor Ivanvovitch?"
Dr Mendeleyev clears his throat. "She has been a disappointment, Anatoly Sergeyevitch. When she became available, I thought she would be helpful in Vyera’s training. I think I mentioned that she might provide an opportunity for the slave Vyera to er practice her skills as a teacher and to lift her horizon from the domestic work she had been undertaking but - I have discussed the position with Neena Alexandrovna – Pavea has merely been an additional trial for Vyera to endure. I am sorry the scheme has not been successful. In the circumstances, I could recommend Pavea’s transfer to the normal facility?"
Anatoly regards his two colleagues and pauses. Pausing always makes subordinates anxious. They have to await his judgment. In this case, his judgment on them! Anatoly clears his throat. He has news. Very unsatisfactory news.
"I have today heard from the friend to whom I was repaying a favour in the matter of Pavea’s abduction and training. You will remember the circumstances?"
Mendeleyev and Neena both nod carefully.
"It seems that the loss of his daughter has had a very salutary effect on Manfred Randolf. He has spent the last several months repaying his debts and bringing his accounts up to date. I think he suspects his daughter’s disappearance has something to do with his former approach to business. He is trying to get her back by making amends and here we have a problem. My friend has asked me to discharge Pavea, but is that practical? That is my question."
"Practical?" Responds Mendeleyev,
Anatoly continues: "From what you have told me, she is not completely trained. She is nowhere near compliant. She will remember us. She will remember what has happened to her. She will rush to the authorities. There will be complications."
"If I may offer an opinion?"
"Yes, Neena Alexandrovna, please"
"I think she is making progress. It would be a great pity to release her (assuming that is the decision) at this point. Many of her character flaws are being corrected."
"Neena Alexandrovna: we are not here to improve the characters of young American women!"
"Of course not, Anatoly Sergeyevitch what I meant was that if she could be detained for longer, any release might not be connected with Mr Randolf’s behaviour so closely and Pavea would have completed her training. She would be programmed much more completely. Any release would be safer."
"Igor Ivanovitch?"
"I agree with Neena Alexandrovna. Releasing Pavea at this point would be perilous, almost like interrupting a hanging after it had begun. The result would be the worst of all possible worlds. Far better to let the process go to completion, for all concerned."
Anatoly sighs. Mendeleyev’s rather gruesome analogy seems to have hit the nail on the head. One thing is certain. He will not to get involved with revenge or punishment abductions ever again. They are just too much trouble.
Neena walks down to the basement corridor. She has just left Vyera in the guest bedroom. She licks her lips over the idea of Vyera in the bed of the African. Restrained. Naked. Vulnerable. Available. Brazen. She thinks about how the night will unfold and its on-goings. She imagines Vyera impaled on the throbbing penis of their guest, her user. His body, firmly gripping hers. Vyera bucking in response. The flow of their intimate ballet gathering pace.
Gradually his balls become tense. He slows his pace, thrusting deeper and slower, his foreskin peeled back by the contact with Vyera’ vaginal walls. The final few seconds in which he abandons all control. Perhaps with his mouth firmly clamped on Vyera’s neck, sucking hard as he ejaculates deeply into her hot moist, receptive perhaps fertile vagina. Vyera would know. She would feel it. She would know that she might become pregnant! Her belly swelling so delightfully. A ripe fruit. Such a suitable ending for her training. After all, no contraceptive precautions were one hundred percent reliable!
She had spent part of the day with the African. Vyera had kept him company on a run through the grounds of the Dacha and had than spent time with him in the gym. So at least they were acquainted. Soon to be very much better acquainted!
And now to deal with Pavea!
How interesting that her father has reacted to her disappearance by undertaking a sober reflection on his own life. How American! He has systematically proceeded to pay all his debts. Like Matthew the Tax Collector (1), he has repaid all that he had owed. The reason for Pavea’s abduction and enslavement was now cancelled. Her father has, knowingly or unknowingly, redeemed her. Anatoly Sergeyevitch has agreed that Pavea should be restored to the bosom of her family.
Neena is, however especially pleased that he has agreed to let Pavea complete her training. It would have been such a shame to discontinue early, just when Pavea was beginning to break. The rude, abrasive, wearisome creature was at last beginning to learn some manners. Her training was starting to improve her. Yet, there was a final opportunity for some education. Before she was transferred. Some thing for her to carry away with her. A souvenir of her experiences at the Dacha ...
She has been brought to the punishment room and strapped over the spanking horse. Neena seductively runs her hand over the victim’s buttocks.
"Gaspazha Neena?"
Now that is progress. Not ‘You. Bitch’, not even ‘You Goddam Bitch, don’t you know who I am?’ or even ‘Get you Commie Hands off of me, you Fucking Bitch’ but instead the perfectly polite and appropriate response. Scrubbing floors was obviously good for her, that and the demeaning body modifications she had endured. Her septum ring and the stud through her lower lip, right in the centre of her face.
"Izvenetie, pa’zhalsta, Gaspazha Neena": excuse me please, Mistress Neena. Why, the girl has even said it in Russian!
"Da, rabinya?"
"Have I done wrong?"
"Nyet." (and she has not challenged her status. She has accepted the title ‘slave’)
"Oh, then why ..."
"Does there need to be a reason?"
"Nyet, Gaspazha." (and merely a sigh of resignation)
"So you are learning?"
"Da, spaseeba, Gaspazha."
Pavea was being so compliant they Neena begins to suspect this is the prelude to the American trying to negotiate some sort of deal to avoid punishment. Time to disappoint her.
"Punishment is always good for slaves, Pavea. I could not remember when I last strapped you. And, as Vyera is busy elsewhere ..." (a fleeting image crosses Neena’s mind: Vyera bucking and writhing on the black guy’s prick. He comes. He pumps Vyera full of sperm. She is fertile. He is fertile. Nice!) ...
"So I thought we should spend some quality time together."
"Oh, spaseeba ..."
"Pazhalsta!"
"Now, Pavea: I have news for you. You have been purchased! (there is a short gasping intake of breath from Pavea) You are going to a new home (actually her old home, but the true state of affairs had to be kept from her) but it’s a bit soon. In my opinion you need more time with us to complete your training. At one point it seemed that we had very little more time left. For example, you have not been tattooed with your slave name and number, but we will get that done before you go. I thought at the top of your right thigh, just where everyone will see, if you should get to wear a bikini or a thong in public. Also, perhaps across your breast, or on the back of your neck? It will be in Russian, of course, but you will be surprised to find how many people, will be able to read it correctly and will understand your true status. (Neena immediately realises that she has allowed herself to say too much. She had implied that Pavea might not stay in Russia. Better be more careful!) Anyway: I spoke to your present Owner who agreed that you will stay until we Trainers are fully satisfied with you. We intend to move you to another facility but as a souvenir of our time together, I am going to strap you! Hard. This is called "The Texas Prison Strap". You come from Texas, don’t you? Apparently, the prison authorities in Texas use it to discipline their prisoners. (2)
"Da, Gaspazha"
"You know? Well, let’s have a look at it together."
Neena carefully demonstrates the strap to Pavea.
"Look how long and thick it is - and wide too. You are really going to burn, with this. Imagine you were in prison, and I was some beautiful black officer. There you are before me, restrained and helpless and I get the job of correcting your behaviour and your loud mouth talk! Wonderful!"
Neena gets up to take her stance. She was going to enjoy strapping Pavea’s buttocks. The strap was a very attractive pale tan colour and had such a pleasantly sweet sexy leathery smell. And heavy, too. Hmmm. Neena has to swallow. Her mouth had been watering, in anticipation. Thinking of the job in hand. Thinking about Vyera being fucked. Thinking about Pavea having to complete her training as a slave before they would let her go. Completely trained. Completely subservient. Completely disciplined. How long would that be? It could be months and months. Perhaps a couple of years. Ah, life was good!
Neena takes her stance. On impulse, she slips off her Birkenstocks and lets her bare feet grip the floor. She grasps the handle of the strap firmly, takes her arm back and brings it smartly forward, turning her body to follow through, like a fore hand shot in tennis. The strap licks across Pavea’s buttocks. It makes a very satisfying ‘Hiss, Crack!’ Pavea lets out a sharp gasp. For an instant, the strap has leaves a pale imprint of its impact, which after a second or two more, turns a satisfying deep pink.
"One", says Pavea
"Nyet", replies Neena. "Adeen!"
"Oh, izveneetie. Adeen."
"Pavea: you know you should always try to speak the language of your new owners by now. What must we do?"
Another sigh of resignation comes from Pavea: "Start over."
"Da! Start over"
Neena changes her position. She feels sure that the aesthetic result of Pavea’s strapping will be so much better if she delivers the strap alternately from left, then right. The strap has already left a broad pink band. But then, that is a characteristic of the implement, when carefully handled. The Domme could concentrate the area of attack. The width of the strap left no doubt about where the impacts were landing. The sub was also left in no doubt about what was happening to them. No doubt at all!
"Let’s begin properly", she says, brightly. "Remember! You are being punished in prison by a tough young beautiful black officer for all your foul mouthed comments over the past months. I think you deserve this ass-whipping very much, don’t you?"
Pavea continues in submissive mode:
"Da, Gaspazha. Spaseeba"
Hisss, Crack!
"Adeen, Spaseeba, Gaspazha."
Neena smiles and her mouth waters again. ‘This creature really does seem to have accepted her place. Perhaps we really have done her a favour, after all’, muses Neena as she changes sides to deliver the second official stroke of how many? twenty? perhaps just as many as needed to leave Pavea very red, very tender and very tearful?
OUT OF AFRICA
Amos Aruna has enjoyed a very good evening. The hospitality was impeccable, the food was first class and his friends, Anatoly and Sveta Kustensky had been delightful. Of course, that was the sign of a true friendship: they could all take up just where they had left off and the passing of years was as nothing. He is looking forward to the rest of the weekend - but not as much as he is looking forward to going home to Africa.
Amos is an entrepreneur but in the nineteen eighties, he had won a scholarship to MSU to further his academic and sporting education.
In years gone by, this was one of the ways in which the Soviet Union had made friends inside a predominantly ‘western’ sphere of influence. The western powers had significant anxieties but they also found it difficult to object. After all, they did exactly the same thing, but the Soviet advantage was that had never been a colonial power – at least not in Africa and so could present a fresh face and an unstained hand on the continent. A hand that was interested in freedom for oppressed peoples and liberation of subject nations – in Africa.
Amos had been someone who appeared on Soviet Radar three times: as an athlete, as an academic; and as someone who would, one day, be a man of influence.
He had first met Anatoly and Sveta when he was a student, although if would be more correct to say that Anatoly and Sveta’s employers made sure that Anatoly and Sveta met him!
This was a very unpromising start to the relationship. One party very far from home and the others, under orders to be friendly and welcoming, to send Amos Aruna back home with some very pleasant memories of Russia and the Russians, in spite of any other personal feelings they might have.
However, on this occasion, Anatoly, Amos and Sveta all got on with each other extremely well and genuine bonds of friendship formed, and grew and endured.
They had many shared interests and in due course, Amos was able to give some of his countrymen and countrywomen - almost always country women – the opportunity to work in Anatoly’s organization. Some of them returned to Africa to use the commercial and technical skills they had learned and quite a few remained in Russia, busily practicing some very special skills there! Their new lives were in a very significant sense, an improvement on their old circumstances which, of course, was essential to the business arrangement Anatoly and Amos had agreed.
The clock edges passed eleven pm and Amos, thanking Anatoly and Sveta for their generosity, says it is time he was in bed. He climbs the grand stairs to his room and wonders how a nation known in years gone by, for sober minded egalitarianism could, in some twenty years have transformed into a nation where the rich could be quite so spectacularly rich?
As he opens his door, a hidden sensor obediently turns on the room lights and thoughtfully adjusts the intensity to a relaxing and soothing level, all the better to help him enjoy the vision of a naked Vyera on her back, arms apart, her wrists in soft leather cuffs and fixed by short straps and snaps (so as not to mark the furniture) and fixed to the bed.
Amos just for a moment is taken completely by surprise, before he dissolves into laughter. He just cannot believe his eyes! Is he dreaming? But the ‘Vision’ speaks to him, "Good evening, Gaspadeen. I have been left to entertain you over night. I hope I am acceptable to you?"
It is the girl he met earlier in the day. The girl who had taken him running and kept him company in the gym. The girl’s face wears an expression of concern and seriousness, as though she intends her words to be taken completely at face value.
Amos is in two minds about what to do next. Whether to go straight back downstairs to thank Anatoly and Sveta for their generosity whilst politely declining it or whether to engage this creature in conversation. Curiosity wins over politeness.
"I .. er I would like a cup of tea. Can I make one?"
"No, please, let me."
"But you are in no position to be of much help "
"If you release me I can arrange one for you."
Amos cautiously approaches Vyera, as if he is lighting a dangerous firework, and releases one of the snaps. She in turn releases its colleague, rises from the bed and lifts the room phone, dialing the kitchen and asking the Domestic on duty (Yesukai) to bring a pot to them.
"Indian, Chinese, Sri-Lanka or Kenyan?"
"What? Oh, Indian please. With milk."
Vyera relays the message to the kitchen and turning to Amos says, with a smile: "Just a moment. I am having one made for you."
"Me? What about you?"
"May I?"
"Of course, why shouldn’t you?"
"Well, I am only a I mean it's my job to make sure you are satisfied."
"Only a what?" Amos is, of course, immediately aware of what had been called Vyera’s ‘situation’. but he decides to toy with the girl, just a little
Vyera realises that the open mouth of a bear pit could be yawning in front of her and replies: "I work here. It’s my job to entertain you."
"Entertain? Is that what you call it?"
Amos rises and takes a small book from his pocket and a photograph of a woman. She is black like him, with a wide smile. Her hair is in small neat plaits, tipped with white, blue and red beads and cradled in her arms is a small child. He gazes at the photograph of his wife and then offers it to Vyera: "This is Anayah, my wife or perhaps these days I should say ‘I am her husband’. She is holding our son Abraham when he was little. How I miss them! One thing which surprised me when I came here – to Russia – was the way the word to be married changes if it’s a man or a woman speaking. The woman almost says (to my African/English ears) I am husbanded and the husband says ‘I am wifed. I think that’s rather nice. The other thing which surprises me is to find you here! So whose idea was this?"
In an instant, Amos’s tone has become sharp and cold. For a moment, the prospect of fucking this slave (as she obviously was) has been very enticing and then he remembered Anayah and his determination to be faithful to her. Seeing Vyera also reminded him of the other girls he had sent to Russia, never to return. As the years passed, as he has seen his own children born and grow to adulthood, his conscience has begun to trouble him. Surely there had been more positive things he could have done apart from being a slaver for a friend? Now here was the reality of what he had done. An English girl left for him to play with. Who was she really? Who were her parents? What had she come from? True, there was an erotic dimension to the situation but it was flavoured with cruelty. At this hour of the day, with his mind increasingly taken up with the idea of embracing his own wife, his beloved, this slave girl holds no attraction.
"I am sorry. I think my ow my employers just wished to make sure you had everything you might wish to enjoy your evening."
"So they have sent you, have they? Somehow, they do not seem to be the sort of people to do that? I think your presence in my bedroom is completely unnecessary! We Africans are all too aware of exploitation and especially aware if you come from West Africa, as I do, about slavery. You seem to have some thing of the slave about you. After our tea, you will leave me alone. Is that clear?"
Vyera is completely taken aback with this unexpected turn of events. It was nothing like what she had steeled herself to accept. She was expecting to leave Mr Aruna’s room in the morning with a cunt wet with his sperm, perhaps even pregnant. Neena had taken particular delight in pointing out that Vyera’s contraception might have been discontinued and that she and Gaspadeen Kustensky might be looking forward to developments.
Vyera is also beginning to feel very anxious and fearful. What will Neena say if she leaves the room un-fucked? Has she antagonised the guest in some way? Will the collar she has worn today, the collar she wore at her Graduation, even permit her to leave, as he is asking her to do?
Vyera’s rising panic is interrupted by a knock at the door. Aruna rises immediately and opens the door to confront a smiling Yesukai in her smart uniform. She bows, offers a tray, bows again, smiles and glides away.
Vyera is also on her feet, moving to take the tray and pour the tea.
"Sit down please girl, will you?" says Aruna, testily
"Oh, yes, I am sorry"
"Milk and sugar?"
"Please."
"That’s very English."
"I am Eng ", but Vyera stops herself too late!
Aruna casts a glance at her through narrowed eyes. "How interesting: an English girl, in Russia who keeps getting confused between her Owners (as I think she meant to say) and her employers. A girl who also has a number tattooed on her breast and yes and on her foot. Just who are you?"
‘Well just who am I?’ wonders Vyera but her instincts of self preservation are active. "I am Vyera. That’s my name."
"Real name?"
"Yes."
"Name you were born with?"
"Vyera is my name. I am Vyera Anatoly’evna Kuznetsova. I am. Really."
And of course, she really is. Neena says so. Her Owners say so. She has a passport which says so, the Office of Inwards Migration says so, the Register of Graduates at Moscow State University says so.
"When I get home – to Africa – do you want me to speak to anyone?"
Well, does she? Yes, in her inner most being, her secret place, where even her Owners could not reach, she wants the African to ‘speak to someone’ about her, but how long will it take for him to return home and how long would it take for ‘speaking to someone’ to mature into a rescue or even just a message to who were they? her parents and the man what was his name ? Just a message, to say she was all right but to forget her because she would never come home? Too long. After all, she knows she can be executed in a moment, the time taken to key in a special number into a mobile ‘phone. And anyway, does she want to be rescued anymore?
Aruna’s offer is really much more of a taunt. Vyera also remembers that these walls can have ears, even eyes too and that the walls are almost certainly watching her and listening. She summons her courage, resolutely pushes her disappointment away and replies, "Thank you but there is really no need to speak with anyone. I am perfectly happy here. This is where I live. Where I belong."
"Very well", replies Aruna. "If you are sure." But in the privacy of his mind, he is sure of quite the opposite. That she does not belong and he remembers with some regret the young man who in years gone by would have definitely ‘spoken to someone’, after his safe return. Meanwhile, he intends to leave his friend’s mansion with his virtue intact.
"You have finished your tea? Good. Then please leave me – and good night." He walks to the door and opens it for her.
Vyera, gets to her feet again and walks toward the open door, waiting for her collar to prick and then begin to shock her and what should she say then?
The collar does not respond – or rather, the collar takes account of the new situation and allows Vyera access to the upper bedroom corridor, allows her to find the service stairs and allows her to make her way to the basement and (she feels sure) to retribution.
Neena meets her.
"Vyerka: into your cell!"
"I am so sorry, Gaspazha, he just did not "
"I know. This is very unsatisfactory. Oh, you did not say farewell to Pavea."
"Farewell?"
"Yes: she has been ransomed. She is gone."
Alone in her cell. Safe behind her locked door, Vyera weeps bitter tears. This evening, she was offered the chance to cry for help - an offer which she politely and firmly turned away. But then, to find that Pavea’s unrealistic, over-confident, arrogant American Optimism had won the day! She had been released. She was going home. But Vyera was left. Alone. In service. In prison. Enslaved.
Hardly fifteen minutes have passed since Amos Aruna had vanished up to his bedroom when Sveta’s mobile quietly chimes.
"Sveta?"
"It is Security, Svetlana Nikitechna."
"And?"
"Events are not going well."
"What events?"
"Vyera and the African."
"Vyera and Aruna? What do you mean?"
"She was left in his room to entertain him."
"Who authorised this?"
"We had instructions from Anatoly Sergeyevitch and Neena Alexandrovna."
"Exactly what is going on?"
"He has rejected her. Vyera has ordered tea from the kitchen and he has told her to leave his room."
"Can you replay me the conversation?"
"Replaying "
The conversation; the tone of Aruna’s voice; the conversation with Vyera, each and every phrase inflames Sveta. She is dismayed at the ridiculous, clumsy and embarrassing situation as it unfolds.
"Security? Re-programme Vyera’s collar to give her free movement between Aruna’s room and her cell. Send someone to wait discreetly in the upper landing and take her quietly back to the basement. I shall have to speak with Mr Aruna immediately Vyera leaves."
"Done already! I reprogrammed as soon as I realised the African was going to throw her out. Vyerka is already in her cell"
Sveta heaves a sigh of relief. At least someone knows how to do their job!
She is furious at the casual way Vyera has been used. It is also the point at which Sveta realises that Vyera has become much more than a slave. In fact she is, in Sveta’s mind at least, more of a friend, almost genuinely one of the family, even an adopted daughter, almost a slave no longer
Sveta is standing outside Amos Aruna’a bedroom. It is her home but she feels acutely uncomfortable and wishes she was not there at all. She is about to knock. She pauses. What on earth can she say? To make amends? To set the clock back in their relationship just twenty minutes? Time enough to stop Vyera being left for Amos to find. There is nothing she can do to avoid the discomfort of confession and apology. She knocks, softly
The door opens and Amos is standing before her. "Sveta! How can I help?"
"Amos its me: I have come to apologise to you."
"Oh?"
"Amos I am so sorry. I did not know about Vyera being left in your room but I am here to apologise and take responsibility."
"Well don’t you think the responsible party should make their own apology?"
"Yes, but I am not sure where Anatoly has gone and I don’t really even know if it is him and I wanted to come at once, as soon as I found out what had happened."
"But how did you know? I hope you have not had my room bugged - have you?"
Sveta is sweating profusely now. Beads of perspiration have formed across her brow. Her dress feels tight and damp. You have not bugged my room have you? The answer is ‘yes’ but it is yet another ‘something’ which Sveta wishes had not happened.
"Its just that we found Vyera wandering in the corridors, going down to her own room and Security let me know and I found out what had happened."
Sveta’s face seems to be burning under Amos gentle questioning. She is telling more lies to her friend to try and make amends for the mistakes of others
"So why would that be a problem? Vyera walking through the house? She lives here doesn’t she? That’s what she told me."
"Yes, yes, Amos she does live here but these days, well we have to be careful "
"Yes but surely Security would not contact you to say they had found Alana walking down the corridor, surely? So what is the difference with the Vyera girl?"
Amos is really making Sveta squirm. She knows it. He knows it.
Sveta is close to tears. She ploughs on: "Yes, well, er you see, Vyera is well you know we er, for some years try I mean Anatoly always tries to make sure that the lives they have after we er are better than what they had before and Vyera is Oh, Amos I am sorry. I am so sorry. I don’t know why this has happened. I know we know that you and Anayah have been together for so long and are still so in love and its just that I am so sorry about Vyera. I think maybe she just fancied you and Anatoly thought you being so far from home Oh! Amos I am just so sorry "
Sveta cannot say any more. She has no words left. She opens her mouth, but she cannot say another syllable. Its obvious that she is acutely embarrassed, distraught, even, by what has happened: testing the loyalty Amos had for his wife, exposing a West African (of all people) to the reality of the contemporary slave trade, in which he has been complicit to some degree, and severely testing an old friendship.
Amos smiles. "Now Sveta, I always knew you and Anatoly were a red blooded couple. I have to say I am cross about finding the girl in my room. Yes she was a temptation and I am a long way from home, but well, we have known each other for so many years now. Let’s not loose our friendship over a single silly act of clumsiness?"
Sveta is even more embarrassed by the way in which Amos repays rudeness and carelessness with magnanimity! "Thank you Amos, I am so sorry and you are so generous," she sobs.
"But I think," Amos continues, "that Anatoly should have the grace to apologise too mention it when you find him, huh?"
So Sveta is dismissed, chastened by his words of her friend but relieved that a friendship does not lay in ruins – at least if Anatoly can play his own part in its restoration
..
"Just what on earth did you think you were doing?" Sveta has found Anatoly in their bedroom where she has fled to recover from the shame she feels after her recent encounter.
"I’m sorry Sveta, its just that I thought it might be a nice way for him to round out his evening and "
"The point is that Amos is very loyal to Anayah. He wants to keep himself for her. Putting Vyera in his bed - laying a temptation in front of him – would look to be extremely rude and careless. You know the sort of relationship they have. Remember? Last time they were here together? Its bad enough to make a faux pas in front of strangers but to do it in front of a friend is very much worse. It looks just horrible, rude, patronising, even cruel the list could go on and on! Whatever good this weekend might have done has now been completely wiped out and the reason is complete lack of sympathy for the person we have staying with us. And what was gong to happen if Vyera got pregnant? Do I get to play Popova with Vyera? Is that what you thought would be good for me?"
"Sveta, I am so sorry. You are quite right. Absolutely right. Is there anything we can do? Anything I can do?"
"I have of course apologised but whether we can all get back to where we were before tonight is quite another matter. I tried to suggest that Vyera was just suffering from high spirits. It seems very unkind to blame her and whether he believes me is another matter entirely. At least he has not demanded to go straight back to Moscow. Look Anatoly, you are going to have to go speak to Amos immediately. My apology is one thing but you will have to do your part. You have to go. You have to go now."
There is something unmistakeably dangerous in Sveta’s demeanor. A cocktail of desperation and complete dismay at what has become of the evening. An evening which ought to have been a very pleasant interlude with an old friend. Anatoly realises that Sveta’s psychological strength is almost exhausted. It is his turn to shoulder the burden. "Sveta, you are quite right. I will go see Amos at once. Immediately."
..
At last a new day comes. When Sveta wakes up, she finds Anatoly spooned behind her. His warm body is comforting. How every girl should have a husband all to themselves, she thinks – and then remembers with a jolt how carelessness could have prized Amos away from Anayah and how Vyera (just one little girl amongst many, over the years) would never enjoy the comforting warmth of her very own husband. Sveta is dragged from reverie into the real world in all its cruelty and the recollection that some of the cruelties could be layed at her door.
"Tolya?"
"Hmmm?"
"Can we go on holiday?"
"Holiday?"
"Yes. I want to get away."
"Oh? Where?"
"Away from here. Somewhere different, but not too far."
"We could take the boat?"
"The boat?"
"Yes: take the boat down to ‘Peter (3) and then maybe out into the Baltic."
"Why not." Anatoly knows that it is time to build bridges and some time away is probably a good idea. "I would like that. I would like that very much."
"We could take friends?"
"Oh friends? Not just us? Not just you and me?"
"Well ... it might be fun "
"I just wanted to be with you if you could .. I mean, if anyone wanted to come as far as Peter, that wouldn’t be so bad but then I would want it to be just you and me."
"Crew?"
"Oh, yes, well I do want a holiday so yes we will need the crew as well – and Vyera."
"Vyera?"
"Yes: I want her."
"Why?"
"She might not be ready."
"Oh "
"Look, let me ask Mendeleyev and Neena what they think. If she is ready "
‘If she is ready’ thinks Sveta. ‘If we have beaten her into shape enough. Beaten and annealed and beaten some more until she is incapable of being the little girl she once was.’ Out of the bitter soil of Sveta’s history another weed is beginning to take root. Guilt over how she has treated Vyera.
"When can we go, Tolya?"
Anatoly thinks for a moment, "Well your TV programme has finished for the summer and there is nothing to keep me in Moscow at the moment so well, what about the weekend after next?"
‘Yes: I would like that. Thank you, Tolya. Let’s go the weekend after next."
..
Footnotes:
(1) The story of Matthew the Tax Collector is in St Mark’s Gospel, Chapter 2 at verse 14
(2) The Texas Prison Strap. Obtainable at Paddlewerks.
(3) Saint Petersburg is often known colloquially in Russia as ‘Peter’ rather than ‘Sankt Pyetyerboorgie’ which is a mouthful, even for Russians!
© Phil Lane & Freddie Clegg 2011
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