I think such gatherings are a bit beside the point, said Vera Samsonova. Dont you?
Beside what point? asked Dmitri cautiously.
If youre looking for intellectual involvement youre not going to find it there.
Oh, I dont know. The people are very agreeable
Agreeable, said Vera Samsonova, but not very interesting.
Considering that we live in Kursk Dmitri began.
Its not where they live, said Vera Samsonova, its the kind of people they are. Dilettante. And naturally they want to talk about dilettante-ish things.
Art? said Dmitri, annoyed. Culture? Where Russia is going?
Perhaps the subjects are not dilettante, Vera conceded. Its just the way they are talked about.
Ah, well, there I agree with you
In terms of generalities. You ask where Russia is going; not what it ought to be doing about sewage.
Sewage!
Yes, sewage. And farming and engineering and taxation
Taxation!
Taxation.
Boring! said Dmitri, rallying.
Real! said Vera Samsonova defiantly.
Absolute nonsense!
You see? said Vera. Prejudiced!
Not prejudiced at all, said Dmitri: rational. And surely these things can be discussed rationally. Thats the point of our gatherings.
Youve got the wrong people there, said Vera. You ought to have surveyors and agronomists
Sewage experts?
Certainly.
Youll be saying doctors next!
Vera considered. Then, unexpectedly, her face dimpled and broke into a smile. Up till now, Dmitri had attributed to her all the charm of a pair of scissors.
Well, perhaps not doctors. At least, not the kind of doctors we have in Kursk!
There you are! Come and give us a chance to argue your points.
Maybe. It would certainly be better than arguing them here. Now, look, Ive got work to do. Havent you?
Im doing it, said Dmitri, injured. Im here on business.
You are? Well, its a pretty relaxed kind of business compared with mine, I can tell you. Or perhaps its just that our approaches are different. You prefer a more general one. What was it exactly that you came for?
I came to ask about Anna Semeonova.
Vera Samsonova put down the burette she had been holding and turned to give him her full attention.
Has she been found?
Not yet.
Well, I suppose thats good news in a way. I was afraid she gave a slight shake of her shoulders that the next time I might see her was when she was brought here.
Do you have any particular reason for fearing that?
No.
She might just have run away.
She might.
If she had, would that surprise you?
Would it surprise me? Vera Samsonova considered. No, to the extent that she is an independent girl and capable of independent action. Yes, to the extent that she would have had to have had a reason.
And you dont know of one?
No. Was there one?
I dont know. Thats why Im asking you.
Well, Im not the person to ask. I only know her slightly. Shes come to see me once or twice recently to ask me about something that shes been reading.
Which was?
Oh, it was a book about infantile mortality. A bit out of date. But there were some comparative statistics she couldnt understand not the numbers, but the medical terms used.
Nothing political?
Political? Vera Samsonova stared at him.
Well, I just wondered. She disappeared from the Law Courts, you see, where she had been to watch a case being tried, and I wondered what had taken her there. Her parents thought mere idle curiosity, but I wondered
What did you wonder, Dmitri Alexandrovich?
If it was an interest in justice.
And that makes it political?
Sometimes.
Vera Samsonova was silent. Then she said:
We did not talk about that, Dmitri Alexandrovich. We talked about medical terminology. But, yes, in so far as the terminology was to do with perinatal mortality and the statistics were to do with comparisons between Russia and other countries and between rich cities like Moscow and poor ones like Kursk, yes, questions of justice were implicit, and, yes, if you press the questions far enough they do require answers which in the end are political. Was that what you wanted to ask me, Dmitri Alexandrovich? Because if it was, youve had your answer and now I suggest you leave.
Dont get annoyed! said Dmitri.
Well, I am annoyed, because it sounds as if youre trying to get me to incriminate myself.
Im not, said Dmitri. Its just the way lawyers talk. Or, at least, Examining Magistrates talk.
Its the assumptions that lie behind what you say!
Im not assuming anything. Im trying to find out what happened to Anna Semeonova. At first I thought something dreadful must have happened. But if it had, I think by now we would have found the body. So perhaps she went off of her own accord. But why and where to? Or, rather, who to? A boyfriend? But everyone assures me that is not so. Some other friend, then? We have been round them all. And in the end, Vera Samsonova, I have come to you.
I hardly count as a friend.
That will be a relief to Larissa Philipovna. But since it is clear that Anna Semeonova did not come to you, it means that we have once again drawn a blank, in that respect at least. But perhaps you can help me in another way. I ask myself why she could have gone off. Now, you and everyone else say that she is a serious girl; and she was at the Law Courts. Might there not be a connection between that and her disappearance?
Why did you ask me about politics?
Because that could be the connection.
You think she has run off to be a revolutionary? said Vera derisively.
Well, young people from good families do sometimes go off these days. Not to become a revolutionary but to work for a cause. Giving out literature, addressing meetings, organizing with others
Vera Semeonova shook her head.
Anyone less likely to become a political activist than Anna Semeonova, she said firmly, you never saw. For that kind of thing you require a degree of hardness, perhaps, even a degree of hate. Anna Semeonova wasnt like that at all. She was a sweet, gentle girl, full of sympathy for others.
All right, said Dmitri, perhaps Ive got it wrong. I dont know the girl, Ive hardly even spoken to her. Let me try something else on you; you said she was full of sympathy for others. Is it possible that she could have gone off in some daft quixotic way to work for the poor? In a monastery, perhaps no, not monastery, her parents said shed gone off the Church, but something like that?
A sort of personal Going to the People? asked Vera, interested.
She was referring to the great movement of some years earlier which had sent hundreds of idealistic young people out into the countryside to work for the improvement of the poor; an initiative that the poor had not universally appreciated.
That sort of thing, said Dmitri, who had sided with the poor on this matter.
She said nothing to me, said Vera.
Oh, well
But Vera was thinking.
Its a long shot, she said, pulling a prescription pad towards her, but I can give you the name of a family. I mentioned them to her once it was the last time she came when we were talking about the way in which conditions contribute to infant mortality. You know, drunken father, ignorant mother, poverty, dirt, dozens of children already. Anna could hardly believe some of the examples I gave. She asked if there was anyone I knew whom she could go and see, so I told her about the Stichkovs. She wouldnt come to any harm, the man is always unconscious and the woman is warm and kindly, quite motherly, really, in fact, far too much so
Dmitri felt oppressed by the sheer fecundity. One babe was at Mrs Stichkovs breast, two, hardly bigger, at her feet. Elsewhere in the room there appeared to be three more infants and there were certainly at least two outside. From time to time one of the children at her feet hauled himself up Mrs Stichkovs skirt and applied himself to her free breast.
Its food, after all, said Mrs Stichkov, and theres not much of that about with Ivan not working.
Ivan was certainly not working. He was stretched on his back in a far corner of the room snoring loudly. Even at this distance, Dmitri could smell the vodka.
He doesnt work much, Mrs Stichkov acknowledged.
Except, thought Dmitri, when he roused himself to perform his conjugal duties, which appeared to be pretty frequently.
Not since hes hurt his back, supplemented Mrs Stichkov.
Ah, hes hurt his back?
Carrying the loads. He cant carry a thing now. Not even the water. You need a man for that, the buckets are that heavy! Anna Semeonova tried to help me once, but she couldnt even lift the pail, not when it was full. You need a man, really, and shes just a slip of a girl.
She tried to help you, did she?
Yes, Your Excellency. She said, Its not right, not with you expecting and all. But I said, Lots of things are not right, and if I dont do it, who will? I will, she said, and she tried, but, bless her, she couldnt even lift it. You look after Vasya, I said, and I will do it. Its not right, she said, not with your time so close, and she just stood there. And then Marfa Nikolaevna came along and said, No, its not right. That idle man of hers ought to do it, but he wont lift a finger. Shes got a sharp tongue, that woman has. Ill find someone, Mrs Stichkov, she said. And off she goes and comes back with one of the men from her place. Mind you, he wasnt that much better than Anna Semeonova, nor much bigger, neither, not with him being a Jew. Still, what do I care about that. I said to Ivan, At least he gave me a hand, which is more than can be said for some people
Mrs Stichkov shifted the baby from one breast to the other, gently detaching the other child as she did so.
And then he gives me a cuff! she said cheerfully. I dont mind, its not much of one he can hardly stand up, hes that drunk but Anna Semeonova gets very angry. I can see shes going to say something, so I say quickly: Dont mind him, love, its just his way! But she doesnt like it, I can see that, and she goes out, and a little later I hear her talking to Marfa Nikolaevna. Which is all very well, Im not saying that the woman is wrong, but you have to watch out with her. Sometimes its better to let things rest easy. But she wont, you see, shes always got to out with it, and when its man and wife, it doesnt pay to meddle.
Over in the corner, Ivan moved loudly. Mrs Stichkov looked at him lovingly.
You dont always know what a marriage is like, she said, not from outside. Especially not if youre a single woman. What does she know about it? I say to Anna Semeonova. But Anna Semeonova stands there cold and unforgiving. Youre too forgiving, Mrs Stichkov, she says. Sometimes those outside can see better. But then, shes another, isnt she? Single?
I believe so, said Dmitri.
She wont be for long, said Mrs Stichkov. Not a girl like her. So pretty! A real Russian! And rich, too. Or so Ivan says. Stay on the right side of her, he says, and itll be worth a rouble or two.
Shes never said anything about having a boyfriend, has she? said Dmitri, still diligent to eliminate options.
Boyfriend? Mrs Stichkov chuckled. Shes not found out yet what it is men carry inside their trousers! A real innocent! And its best if she stays like that, I said to Marfa Nikolaevna, so dont you go putting any of your ideas in her head!
What sort of ideas? said Dmitri.
Mrs Stichkov looked vague.
Ideas, she said.
Dmitri tried again.
This Marfa Nikolaevna, he said, what sort of woman is she?
Shes got a sharp tongue. Everyone knows that! Theres hardly anyone whos not felt the rough edge of her tongue at some time or another. Thats why it is no one will have her. And that, of course, only makes her sharper. Itd be a blessing, I say to Ivan, if some man would take that girl down in the fields some time. Well, no ones going to do that, says Ivan, not unless its one of her own kind. Youd think one of them would, wouldnt you? Shes not bad-looking.
What are these ideas you say she has?
Its not ideas, said Mrs Stichkov, its what she says!
And what does she say?
Oh, about the land and all that.
What about the land?
She says it oughtnt to be owned by anyone. You cant have that, I said, thats silly. You cant just leave it lying around! No, no, she says, thats not it. Everyone would own it together, it would belong to everybody. The peasants wouldnt like that, says Ivan. They think it should all belong to them. Thats because they dont know any better, she says. Well, you go and tell them that, says Ivan, and see where it gets you! Thats just the trouble, she says; people wont listen! And because they wont listen, the rich can get away with anything. You want to watch that kind of talk, my girl, says Ivan, or else youll be in trouble. So then she shuts up, she knows shes gone a bit too far.
Was that the kind of thing she was talking about with Anna Semeonova?
She just talks, said Mrs Stichkov. Out it all comes! Just like mothers milk, she said, looking fondly down at the baby, now replete and blotto on its mothers lap.
The houses were on the edge of town and just beyond them were open fields, still white with snow, and occasional clumps of birch trees, their branches heavy with ice. Dmitri contemplated the prospect and shuddered. Not for him the great open space of Russia, the steppe that poets sang about; for him the great open boulevards of St Petersburg, and that was exactly where he meant to be as soon as he could escape from this dump.
Back up to his left was a tanners yard and the smell of the yard hung over the whole area. The acrid fumes irritated his eyes and caught at his chest in a way that he did not understand until he saw the empty drums piled at the tannery gates. Chemicals were used in the yards processes. Little yellow rivulets ran down from the yard into the fields, colliding on the frozen surface of a small stream. Further along the stream the ice was broken and ducks, strangely discoloured, were swimming. Further along still, two women were filling pails to take up to their houses. Was this where Mrs Stichkov came to fetch her water? Where Anna Semeonova had tried to help her?