I spoke to Det. Insp. Constantin Dimtayin yesterday. I had to wait three hours for my appointment and the baby was crying the whole time. There were some very inferior types in the waiting room, a mother with a whole group of boys whose ears stuck out like batwings and a man with no teeth who said his accordion had been stolen. He spat when he talked and it was really quite disgusting.
Finally when I got to speak to the Det. Insp. he was far from helpful. In fact many of the things he said made me angry and very hurt indeed. I do not even want to tell you I have to put my hands over the tender ears of the baby he was so unpleasant. He said your girl Alla has gone abroad to become a whore we see thousands like her every year. Then he said, “Go home and forget her, old woman.” Which is very rude as he was a maximum of two years above me at school.
Then he said, “She has left you with baby, and she is now in London wearing fur coat bought by pimp and drinking champagne. She has gone because she does not want the child and she is sick of having to send you money.” Oh please Alla call soon—tell me these things that the Det Insp. says are untrue. Call soon, I fear that next week the landlord will take away mobile telephone because of rent and then how will you contact me?
I don’t care if you are a whore wearing fur coats who no longer cares about her mama and baby, please just let me know that you are alive and safe!
Oh my darling I am practically dying from a breaking heart. Your cousin Oleg made long journey last week to the city and the Kitty Kat Klub where you were working. He would not tell me many details of this place, but I can imagine what it is like. He says the people there have seen no sign of you for over a year. What has happened to you my darling? I do not know if you will ever read this but still it comforts me to write you. The baby is getting so big now; she can walk and talk and likes to watch ballet DVD. Nutcracker is her favourite, she spins around like a little prima ballerina along with the dancers.
We have so little money that I have taken job cleaning at the sulphuric acid factory. It is not so bad, while I am at work I leave the baby with old Natalya who lives in our building. The baby does not seem to mind and she is getting fat on all the cakes Natalya feeds her.
Every Sunday I go to church and pray for you and for the baby and for me. I hope if you did run away from us you have happy life.
Dearest, darling daughter
I am so desperate to hear any news of you after all this time that I agreed with old Natalya to arrange a session with a psychic woman she knows.
I know you are saying, Mama you are an old fool and this woman is just trying to take your money. But Natalya swears by her “special powers.” And I feel a desperate need for what the Americans call closure.
I went to old Natalya’s apartment last night. It was all very strange, she had turned off the lights and lit many candles, Mrs. Livchenka was there, a big fat lady wearing a strange fur hat that looked like a black rat sitting on her head! At first I was a little afraid of her. I gave her the money, nearly a whole week’s wages, I know this is a lot but I am so desperate to hear news of you my darling what else can I do? The politzia are no help of course and I have no money to hire a detective.
Then we sat around the table, old Natalya’s cats were staring at us from the shadows, I gave her your picture and a medal that you were given as a child when you won the ballet competition and one of the leather gloves that I gave you for Christmas when you were sixteen (remember you lost the other when you went skiing in the mountains with Oleg). Mrs. Livchenka touched all of the things and looked at them very carefully. Then she closed her eyes and begins to make these strange noises. I was worried she had become unwell, but old Natalya informed me that this was perfectly normal and part of the process.
Then she took hold of a pencil and piece of paper and wrote down a single word. It said MANATEE. What can this mean?
Afterwards when I asked her about you she just shook her head and this made me very afraid. She said that you and the baby are both with God. At this I panic and rush back home to check on Varvara but she is safe, fast asleep in her bed, thank God, so I know none of it can be true. I am a silly old woman to listen to these mystics!
I pray I will hear from you soon.
Mama
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“I’M NOT READY yet,” said Marion, then added proudly, “I’m waiting for a friend.” The waitress’s smile showed no trace of irritation, and she went away to serve another table.
She was sitting by the window in Stowe’s Tea Rooms. A year ago she would have rather bitten off her own tongue than send the girl away without giving her order. She hated even the idea of inconveniencing people in any way at all. And occupying a table that could have been used by another customer, or even group of customers, perhaps some of them elderly or infirm, would make her feel awful with anxiety. In fact, she wouldn’t have had the courage to come into Stowe’s by herself at all.
But the Marion that sat in the table by the window no longer cared so much about making people wait for her. She had other things on her mind. Edward, the man with the little dog she had first met outside Ocean Vista Court, was joining her for tea.
Since the move to Ocean Vista Court, nearly a year ago, Edward had been such a good friend, helping with all sorts of paperwork and bills, advising her on insurance policies and how to get her phone line and cable television connected. She did not know what she would have done without him.
Sometimes she joined him on his walks along the front with Treacle, and they often went for tea afterwards. Edward said Stowe’s coffee was the finest in Northport and couldn’t resist their homemade vanilla slices. He hated those nasty modern places like Starbucks and Costa Coffee. Also the waitresses didn’t mind Edward bringing Treacle into the café; they even gave him pieces of broken shortbread to eat.
Since becoming friends with Edward, Marion learned that his wife, Celia, had passed away from leukemia several years earlier. He had moved to Ocean Vista Court because his previous home was too filled with difficult memories. At seventy-one, Edward was quite a lot older than Marion, but he was very physically fit for his age, and in some ways he seemed much younger: he liked to listen to modern music, he still went skiing twice a year, and he even talked of her accompanying him.