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attention. Despite Petre’s belief that these children are important to the system as future workers, Cilka thinks
the system might also see them, for now, as a drain on
resources. She wonders whether they are all at risk of
punishment because of it, but she knows she will fight to
keep these infants alive.
Lying on their beds one night, with the sun still high in
the sky, Cilka says to Josie, ‘Do you think this is to be my
calling?’
‘What do you mean?’ Josie asks.
It is hard for Cilka to reveal her inner thoughts. She
worries about what else might be opened up, might spill
out of her. Josie looks at her expectantly. ‘Am I not to be
a mother myself, but someone who helps others who can
be?’
Josie bursts into tears.
‘Oh, Cilka, I think I’m pregnant.’
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CHAPTER 14
To the sounds of snoring, Cilka rolls out of her bed.
She pulls the blanket off Josie and runs her hands
gently over the swollen body hidden by layers of clothes.
She pulls the blanket back under her friend’s chin.
‘When did you suspect?’ Cilka asks.
‘I don’t know, a month ago? Who can keep track of
time in this forgotten place?’
‘Josie, I felt the baby kick. You are well along. Why
didn’t you say something sooner?’
Josie’s body shudders as she sobs, biting down on the
blanket.
‘I’m afraid, Cilka, I’m afraid. Don’t yell at me.’
‘Shhh, keep your voice down. I’m not the one yelling.’
‘What am I going to do?’ Cilka sees Josie glance at the
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bed that used to be Natalya’s. ‘You have to help me, Cilka.’
‘You are going to have a baby and I will be there with
you. We need to tell Antonina tomorrow. Surely it’s a risk
for you to be working around sick people.’
‘And the others?’
‘They’ll work it out. Don’t worry, we will all help you.’
Cilka tries to give Josie a look filled with warmth and
hope. ‘You’re going to be a mumma!’
‘What about Vadim? Do I tell him? What do you think
he will say?’
‘I’m surprised he hasn’t worked it out,’ Cilka says. ‘Surely
he felt you were getting bigger around your stomach.’
‘He just told me I was getting fat. He’s such a stupid
boy – it wouldn’t occur to him.’
‘Yeah, you’re probably right, but you need to tell him.
Next time he comes.’
‘What if he—’
‘Just tell him. We will worry about his reaction when
we get it. You do know they are not going to let the two
of you go off and live a happy family life somewhere, don’t
you?’
‘They might.’
‘They won’t.’
* * *
The next morning after rollcall Cilka approaches Antonina
with Josie.
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‘She’s having a baby.’
‘Is she now? I wonder how that happened,’ Antonina
says with disgust.
Cilka chooses to ignore the comment. Josie keeps her
head down. Ashamed, humiliated.
‘Five months, I’d say,’ Cilka tells the brigadier.
‘I’ll be the judge of that. Open your coat.’
Josie opens her coat, shivering against the wind and in
fear of what she is being publicly subjected to. Rough
hands press hard against her obvious baby bump. Feel all
around her sides, pushing hard from top to bottom.
‘Just making sure it’s not rags stuffed up there; wouldn’t
be the first.’
Cilka pushes the brigadier’s hands away. ‘Enough.
Satisfied?’
‘Get off to work, you. As for the slut here, she can go
too, there’s no reason she can’t continue in the soft job
she has. I’ll have to tell Klavdiya Arsenyevna about this.
She won’t be pleased.’
Cilka and Josie hurry towards the hospital buildings.
‘I don’t mind working, it’s not as though it’s difficult
and it is a distraction for me, during the day; the nights,
however . . .’
* * *
That evening, Josie is made a fuss of by all the women.
They want to feel the baby in her belly; some lucky ones
receive a kick for their efforts. ‘You’re carrying just like I 202
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did with my boys,’ Olga says, her eyes smiling but with tears in them.
Someone remembers Natalya, the only other pregnancy
in the hut, and the tragic ending that was.
Olga notices the effect talking about Natalya is having
on Josie and quickly changes the subject. She suggests
they all get involved in making clothes for Josie’s baby.
She is immediately designated the designer; sheets are
inspected to see who can afford to lose a foot or two, the
embroiderers excited at having something meaningful to
create for a new life.
Hannah is sitting at the back of the group, watching all
the activity with a look of distaste.
‘How do you all have the energy,’ she says, ‘to delude
yourselves?’
‘Hannah,’ Olga says sharply, ‘finding a little hope in the
darkness is not a weakness.’
Hannah shakes her head. ‘Like a nice fur coat, ha,
Cilka?’
The women look at Cilka. Her face burns and there is
bile in her throat. She can’t think of any reply – an expla-
nation or a retort. She coughs and clears her throat.
‘Hannah’s right though,’ Josie says, putting down the
strip of sheet in her hand. ‘It’s silly to forget where we
are.’
‘I don’t think it is,’ Olga says, determinedly unpicking
some thread. ‘I think it helps us to go on.’
* * *
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It is well over a week before Vadim comes knocking. As he starts his groping and pawing of Josie, she stops him.
‘I have to tell you something.’
‘I don’t want to talk just now.’
‘I’m having your baby,’ she blurts out.
Cilka has turned her head away from Boris to listen to
the exchange.
‘What’s wrong?’ asks Boris.
‘Nothing, shhh.’
‘What did you say?’ Vadim growls.
‘I’m having a baby, your baby.’
‘I thought you were just getting fat.’
‘No.’
‘I don’t want no fuckin’ baby. What the hell do you
think you’re doing having a baby?’
‘You did this to me. I didn’t ask for it.’
‘How do I know it’s mine?’
Josie pushes him away, screaming, ‘Because you made
me your property, remember? No one else is allowed to
&
nbsp; touch me, remember? Get out of here, get out, get out!’
Josie’s screams reduce to a whimper.
Vadim stumbles from the bed, hopping about as he
looks for his discarded clothes. The exchange disturbs all
the men in the room who scramble for their trousers and
start retreating.
‘I would never speak to you like that,’ Boris says to
Cilka, pushing a lock of hair back from her eyes. ‘In fact,
I’d be so happy if you had my baby.’
That’s not going to happen, Boris, she thinks, but she 204
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merely tells him it’s time to go. Cilka has never been pregnant. Her period stopped in the other place for a long time, like so many of the women there, and now only
comes intermittently. Poor nutrition, shock, she isn’t sure.
It is possible there is no going back from it.
‘All right, I will, but I will be thinking about you.’
In the dark, the women find their way to Josie’s bed,
offering support and hugs. The slightly warped sense of
humour the women have developed over the past few
years serves them well as they share stories about what
the men who have visited them lack, and their capacity
to father a child. Josie finds herself laughing, between
sobs. Cilka feels affection bloom for these women, with
their hollow cheeks and gap-toothed smiles – a feeling
that has only ever surfaced in brief moments surrounded
by loss. For her sister. For Gita. She tucks the feeling deep inside, where nothing can harm it.
* * *
Over the next few weeks, Josie’s moods swing wildly. In
the morning she wakes, joins the others for breakfast and
rollcall upbeat and keen to go to work, where she will be
asked by medical and nursing staff how is she feeling. At
the end of the day, tired and aching, she barely speaks,
stays on her bed and often doesn’t come to dinner. At first
she had been excited about the small gowns the women
were making for her; now she barely glances at them.
Cilka and Elena gently speak to Josie, to discover if it
is the fear of the approaching birth causing her mood
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swings. The only clue she gives them relates to Vadim.
How will she ever be able to tell her baby about its father?
They comfort her as best they can, promising to be in her
and her baby’s life always. It is a promise they all know
will be difficult to keep. Just words to keep her holding
on, to get her through.
With little more than a month before Josie’s expected
birth date, Cilka wakes in the middle of the night, startled
by the hut door slamming shut in the wind. She glances
at Josie’s bed. It is empty. She has spent many nights
looking at her friend sleeping, her face pinched and trou-
bled even in sleep, her growing stomach protruding
underneath the blanket.
Alarmed, she reaches out to pat the bed, to confirm
Josie has gone. Her hands rest on something soft and she
realises it is an article of clothing. It is well below freezing outside. She sits up, grasps the coat and several more items
of clothing she finds with it.
Cilka quietly locates her boots and shuffles along the
row of beds until she gets to Elena’s. She shakes her awake
and tells her to get dressed quickly. Wrapping their faces,
heads and hands as best they can, the two women head
out of the hut.
It is bitterly cold. Snow is falling lightly. A chilling wind cuts through their layers of clothing to their blood and
bones. The nearby searchlights cast a ghostly shadow
around their hurrying forms. They see bare footprints in
the snow leading away from their hut. Their feet squelch
and squeak as they follow the trail.
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Behind the mess hut, they find Josie. Naked, unconscious, barely breathing, curled up by the perimeter fence.
Cilka gasps – no. And then feels the blankness closing over her.
‘What do we do with her? I think she may be dead,’
Elena whispers.
Cilka leans over and wraps Josie in the coat she has
brought with her.
‘We have to get her back to the hut and warm her up.
Oh, Josie, what have you done?’ Cilka cries.
Cilka lifts her by the shoulders; Elena takes her legs.
Together they stumble back the way they came to the
safety of their hut.
They are unable to open and close the door quietly, and
soon the rest of the women are awake, demanding to know
what is going on. Elena fills them in, and calls them over,
for whatever they can do. Cilka seems to have lost her
words for a moment. The women go about helping as they
can. Two of them begin massaging Josie’s feet, another
two her hands. Cilka places her ear on Josie’s stomach,
tells them all to be quiet a minute, and listens.
Thump, thump, strong and loud, bounces back to
her.
‘She’s still alive, and the baby is still alive,’ Cilka says.
Elena shakes her head. ‘Even a minute longer out there
. . . Cilka, it’s so lucky you noticed she was gone.’
‘Come on,’ Cilka says, ‘let’s get her warmed up quickly.’
She takes a mug of hot water, opens Josie’s mouth and
pours a small amount in. Blankets are piled on top of her.
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Slowly, she begins to moan, low and guttural. Elena gently slaps her face.
‘I saw someone do that once to someone who had
fainted,’ she explains.
In the dark they can’t see if Josie has begun to open
her eyes. Cilka senses that she is coming to and talks softly to her. Brushing Josie’s face, she feels tears.
‘It’s all right, Josie, we have you.’ It is an effort for Cilka to keep her voice gentle. A part of her feels enraged,
helpless to the point of dizziness. She has seen too many
naked bodies lying in snow. With no choice but to give
in. But Josie has a choice. Maybe Cilka hasn’t helped her
enough to see that. ‘Josie, you are going to be all right.
We’re not going to let anything happen to you.’
A chorus of support increases Josie’s crying. ‘I’m sorry,’
comes out, choked with tears. ‘I’m so sorry. I can’t do
this.’
‘Yes, you can,’ Cilka says with force. ‘You can. You must.’
‘You can, Josie,’ Elena says, and the other women echo
the words, reaching in to touch her.
Cilka says, ‘She’s going to be all right now. Take back
your blankets and get some sleep. I’m going to spend the
night with her.’ She will curl up beside her, despite the
dizzying rage. She will give her what she needs. She will
hold her. She will make her see this is not the end. ‘Thank
you all,’ Cilka says. ‘We have to stick together, we’re all
we have.’
Many of the women hug both Josie and Cilka before
going back to their beds, where sleep may or may not
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come for the rest of the night. Cilka doesn’t respond to their affection, but feels grateful somewhere deep down.
Cilka moves Josie over and climbs into her bed. With
her arms over Josie’s large belly, their heads resting
against each other, Cilka murmurs softly. Josie soon falls
asleep. It doesn’t happen for Cilka, who is still awake
when the clanging sounds in the dark, signalling it is
time to get up.
After rollcall, Cilka tells Antonina that Josie is having
some pains and she thinks she should come to the mater-
nity hospital with her in case the baby is coming. Antonina
looks like she is just about out of patience with Cilka’s
requests, but says nothing, which Cilka interprets to mean
she is allowed to take her. She will need to return with
some extra tea or bread for the brigadier, or she will suffer the consequences.
Petre examines Josie. ‘The baby is fine,’ he says. ‘It has
a strong heartbeat, but it is not ready to be born.’
Josie, who has not yet said a word all morning, but has
kept one arm clutched through Cilka’s on the walk to the
hospital, tells the doctor she just wants the baby to be
born. Petre senses there is more to her story and has her
placed in a bed for rest.
Cilka is grateful. There are no signs of frostbite,
because they found her so quickly, but Josie had shivered
all night, and now she needs to rest and stay warm. Petre
takes Cilka aside and asks her if there is anything else
going on with Josie. Cilka looks into the doctor’s kind
face and thinks she can risk telling him what happened
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last night, emphasising that Josie is not a shirker, that she is in fact unwell.
* * *
Josie sleeps the day away. When it is time for her and
Cilka to return to their hut Petre tells them that he thinks
he needs to keep an eye on Josie as her baby could come
at any time. He hands Cilka a note to give to Antonina,
stating that Josie is to come to the hospital for observation every day until the baby is born. Cilka tucks the note into
her pocket along with the bread she has saved from her
meal. Her stomach groans. She has not eaten enough
herself today, and the fatigue has made the hunger worse,
but she must keep the brigadier content.
For the next three weeks, Josie sleeps and helps out on