of the shadow of an archway just as the big car was pulling away. She’d expected her husband to make her explain herself later that night, but when she came home, he was already lying in the sleeping alcove with his face turned away from her. Anna could tell by his breathing that he was still awake, and when she got into bed, she’d pushed herself under his arm. Without a word, he’d stroked her hair and then turned away. When she woke the following morning, he was already in his uniform, sitting at the table next to Petya and cutting the boy’s bread into bite-sized pieces. Leonid had stayed with his unit for the rest of the week.
He’s not a weak person, Anna thought; he knows how to assert himself, and within the limits of his possibilities, he’s single-minded. She turned the page pensively. What he was lacking was passion. The only devotion he showed was in his love for Petya. And yet, Anna would have found intolerable the unresolved condition in which Leonid had voluntarily remained for months.
Rosa, that witch, as if she were capable of gauging Anna’s desperation, had offered her help precisely when Anna had been on the point of chucking everything. She’d decided that she was willing to accept any consequences rather than to go on living a life of double deceit. And at that exact point, Rosa had proposed a meeting.
“Doesn’t it bother you, constantly having to lie to Leonid?” she’d asked innocently, but at the same time so empathetically that Anna had shared her feelings with her. Then, on the very next day, Anna had been ordered to appear in Kamarovsky’s office, and the Colonel had presented her with his plan. He’d explained that officers from Moscow who volunteered for service in inhospitable parts of the Soviet Union might hope for special privileges upon their return. “It wouldn’t be for a long time,” he’d said. “But I think it would be best for us to avail ourselves of this expedient.”
She was so far gone in deceit that Kamarovsky could allow himself to make her such a proposal, Anna thought fearfully. Shouldn’t she stand up to him, once and for all? Anna didn’t want to lose Leonid, and she didn’t want to lose Alexey. Confounded by her dilemma, and full of shame at herself for taking up Kamarovsky’s offer unresistingly, Anna had asked, “So where would he get transferred to?”
The Colonel had pulled over a map that showed the locations of the various army units and tapped on a position in the Northeast.
“Siberia?” she’d whispered. “No, I can’t do that … you can’t ask that of us.”
“How long has your husband served as a lieutenant?” After Anna told him, Kamarovsky had sat there with an impenetrable expression on his face, as though, first of all, he had to consider the matter. Then he said, “A promotion might be possible. Naturally, your husband would have to apply for his captain’s commission himself.”
She’d stared at the map and tried to comprehend the incredible distance that lay between Moscow and there. “What guarantee do I have that Leonid will be allowed to come back home?”
The Colonel’s silence had made it clear to her that haggling with him was a foolhardy undertaking. Then he said, “I’m not in command of Leonid’s army unit, but should he decide to go along with a transfer, the circumstance will be taken into account, and it will be borne in mind that you both have cooperated with the security forces.”
This answer was too vague for Anna. “When will he get an irrevocable right of abode for Moscow?”
“In a year, or at the latest, a year and a half.”
“I’ll consider it.”
While showing her to the door, Kamarovsky had reiterated, “It wouldn’t be forever.”
That evening, Anna had initiated the overdue conversation. She and Leonid hadn’t been so honest with each other in years. They’d admitted that their only remaining interaction involved organizing the day: Who was bringing Petya to the doctor, who was picking him up from school, when would his grandfather have to lend a hand? They’d calculated how long it had been since they’d made love. Anna said it was because they slept in the same room with Viktor Ipalyevich. They’d hugged and petted each other, not with passion, but rather as though each sought protection in the other. Finally, since the subject lay close to hand, Anna had indicated that there was someone else; nothing serious, she’d explained, but nevertheless, not