Now he knew what was wrong with her letters. Alexander was weak from anger, and he didn’t have enough time to calm down before his meeting with Govorov, or after. Anger continued to cloud his judgment. After his meeting he went to Colonel Stepanov.

“Oh, no,” said Stepanov, coming from around his desk. “I see that look in your eyes, Captain Belov.” He smiled.

With his hat in his hands, Alexander nodded and said, “Sir, you have been very kind to me. I haven’t had a day off since I came back in July.”

“But, Belov, you had over five weeks off in July!”

“All I’m asking for is a few days, sir. If you like, I can drive a supply truck into Leningrad. That way it will be partly for army business, too.”

“What’s going on, Alexander?” Stepanov said, coming closer and lowering his voice.

Alexander gave a small shake of his head. “Everything is fine.”

Stepanov studied him. “Does it have anything to do with the money you’re sending out of here to Molotov every month?”

“You’re right, sir, maybe we should stop the money transfers to Molotov.”

Stepanov lowered his voice another notch. “Does it have anything to do with the stamp from a registry office in Molotov that I saw in your passport when I was signing you in?”

Alexander kept silent. “Sir, I am urgently needed in Leningrad.” He paused, trying to collect himself. “It’s just for a few days.”

Stepanov sighed. “If you don’t come back by ten o’clock roll call on Sunday…”

“Sir, I will be here. It’s more than enough time. Thank you. I’ve never let you down. I won’t forget this.”

As Alexander was leaving, Stepanov said, “Take care of your personal business, son. Forget the supplies. You won’t have another chance for personal business until we break the blockade.”

4

Tatiana was dragging her feet. She was hanging around her last patients even though it was long past her sign-out time. She was a little hungry, but cooking for herself was such a displeasure, she wished she could nourish her body intravenously, like some of the wounded. Working with critically injured men and women was preferable to being in her room by herself.

Finally she left and, not lifting her head, slowly walked home down Grechesky in the dark.

She walked through the communal apartment. Inga was sitting on the couch in the hallway and casually drinking tea. Why was she in Tatiana’s home? It was so incongruous that she and Stan should remain. “Hello, Inga,” said Tatiana tiredly as she took off her coat.

“Hmm. Someone was here for you.”

She squared her shoulders. “Did you do as I asked and not let anyone in?”

“Yes, I did as you asked,” Inga replied shortly. “He wasn’t too pleased, though. Another soldier—”

“What soldier?”

“I don’t know.”

Coming up to Inga and lowering her voice, Tatiana whispered, “Who was it? It wasn’t the same soldier, was it—”

“No. Different. Tall.”

Tatiana’s heart jumped. Tall!

“Where—” she stammered. “Where did he go?”

“I don’t know. I told him he couldn’t come in. He didn’t want to hear anything after that. You have quite a contingent of soldiers following you around, don’t you?”

Without even grabbing her coat, Tatiana swirled around the small hallway, swung open the door, and there in front of her stood Alexander.

“Oh,” she gasped, her knees buckling. “Oh, God.” Seeing the expression in his darkened eyes, she knew what he was feeling. She didn’t care. Her eyes filling with tears, she leaned her head into his coat.

He didn’t even put his arms around her. “Come on,” he said coldly, taking her by the arm. “Let’s go inside.”

Inga said, “Tania told me not to let anyone in, Captain— Tania, aren’t you going to introduce us?” She had put down her cup.

“No,” said Alexander, pushing Tatiana into the room and kicking the door shut behind him. She came to him instantly, her shaking arms open, her face overflowing. She could barely get his name out of her emotional mouth. “Shura…”

He put his palms out. “Don’t come near me.”

Not listening, Tatiana came to him, and said, “Shura, I am so happy to see you. How are your hands?”

He pushed her hard away, saying loudly, “No, Tatiana! Stay away from me.”

He walked through the room to the window. It was cold by the window. Tatiana followed him. Her need to lay her hands on him and to have him touch her was so desperate that she forgot the pain left by Dimitri’s visit, by the missing five thousand dollars, by her own twisted feelings. “Shura,” Tatiana said, her voice breaking. “Why are you pushing me?”

“What have you done?” Alexander’s eyes were bitter and angry. “Why are you here?”

“You know why I’m here,” Tatiana said to him. “You needed me. I came.”

“I don’t need you here!” he yelled. Tatiana flinched but did not move away. “I don’t need you here,” he repeated. “I need you safe!”

“I know,” she said. “Please let me touch you.”

“Stay away from me.”

“Shura, I told you, I cannot be away from you. I didn’t think you could feel me all the way in Lazarevo. You need me close to you.”

“Close to me? Not close to me, Tatiana,” he said nastily, standing against the windowsill. It was dark in the room, the only light coming from the street. Alexander’s face was dark, his eyes were dark.

“What are you talking about?” Her voice was trembling in supplication. “Of course, close to you. Close to who?”

“What the fuck were you thinking,” he yelled, “going to the barracks and asking for Dimitri?”

“I didn’t ask for Dimitri!” she exclaimed faintly. “I went to find you. I didn’t know what happened to you. You stopped writing to me.”

“You didn’t write to me for six months!” he said loudly. “You could have waited two weeks, no?”

“It was over a month, and I couldn’t have, no,” she said. “Shura, I’m here for you.” Tatiana came a step closer. “For you. You told me never to look away from you. Here I am. Look into my eyes and tell me what I feel.” Pleadingly she opened her hands to him. “What do I feel, Shura?” she whispered.

Alexander blinked, his teeth grinding. “Look into my eyes and tell me what I feel, Tatiana.”

She clasped her hands together.

“You promised me!” Alexander said. “You promised me. You gave me your word!”

Tatiana remembered. She looked into his face. She was so weak and wanted him so much. And she could see that he needed her, if anything, even more. He just couldn’t see past his anger. Like always. “Alexander, husband, it’s me. It’s your Tania.” She almost cried as she opened her palms to him. “Shura, please…”

When he didn’t reply, Tatiana took off her shoes and came to stand in front of him at the window. She felt more vulnerable than ever, standing in her white uniform in front of him, with his black hair, black boots, and black trench coat looming over her, so emotional, so upset. “Please, let’s not fight. I am so happy to see you. I just want…” She would not lower her eyes from him, would not. “Shura,” she said, her body trembling, “don’t… push me away.”

He turned his face from her. Tatiana unbuttoned the front of her uniform and took hold of Alexander’s hand. “Kiss the palm of your hand and press it against your heart, you wrote to me,” she whispered, kissing the palm of his hand and then putting it on her bare breast, his large, warm, dark hand, the hand that had carried her and caressed her, and she closed her eyes and moaned.

“Oh, my God, Tatiana…” Alexander said, pulling her to him, his hands attacking her body. He pushed her down on the couch, his incensed lips not leaving her mouth, his hands in her hair. “What do you want from me?” He yanked off her uniform, vest, and underwear, leaving her naked except for her garters. Gripping her bare thighs above the stockings, he whispered, “Tania, God, what do you want from me… ?”