for me to go,” she repeated, trying to sound bold.
“Oh, really?” He raised an eyebrow. “But we had all sorts of nice things planned for you, young lady. All sorts of … surprises. It’s a little ungrateful of you to sneak off like this. Bad manners. It’s your poor upbringing showing again.”
“They’re waiting for me at home.” Masha was angry and ashamed to hear her voice come out high and squeaky.
“And now the lies. How can they be waiting for you at home? You haven’t got a home now, have you, Masha?”
“I have!” she cried. “I’m staying with Gena and Ira, and they’re waiting for me, and when Granny gets better I’ll live with her, and then when Mama comes back we’ll live together.”
“That’s a lot of
and whens
. I’ll add another one.
And when
your mother tells you what she was doing in Turkey, you might find you don’t want to live with her after all.”
“What do you mean?”
Uncle Igor simply went on smoking and gazing at her in that cold, speculative manner. At last he said, “Never mind. Come back and visit soon. You’ll be living here before too long, part of one big happy family. Until then…”
He snapped his fingers at the driver.
“Take her back.”
Chapter 10
M asha wandered slowly past the market towards the garages. She felt hot and sticky and unhappy. She’d been left on her own today, and she didn’t know what to do with herself in an empty flat that was no longer hers. At the back of her mind she could still hear Uncle Igor saying,
You haven’t got a home now, have you, Masha?
She was lonely. She wanted to talk to someone about Granny in hospital, and about her awful visit to Tsarskoe Selo two days ago. Could Uncle Igor really make her live with him as he had threatened? And then there was her mysterious second birthday. When
was
the second midsummer’s eve? Could her present be the treasure Nechipor said was buried in the enchanted place?
If only she could dream in the daytime! Then the little Cossack girl would be there and she could talk about it all, and perhaps her friend would have some answers. She put her hands on the woven belt tied round her waist and tried hard to imagine the Cossack girl: her green trousers and red boots, her smiling face under a mop of dark curly hair. But it was only a dream; she was still alone.
At the entrance to the garages, three hot dogs lay flat on their sides in the dust. One of them lifted its head and gave her a panting, doggy smile. She stepped over it carefully and went in.
“Is Fyodor Ivanovich here?” she called up to the man sitting in the watchman’s cabin. He jerked his thumb over his shoulder in reply.
Behind the cabin and surrounded by garages was a small yard full of dented cars and half-finished church cupolas. The cars were brought here to have the dents smoothed out of them, and the onion-shaped domes, taller than Masha and much fatter, were here to have a skin of gleaming metal draped over their wooden skeletons. Masha watched as a man sitting on a pile of old car bumpers worked and stroked at a sheet of metal, easing it little by little to lie smooth and buttercup yellow over the curve of the dome. When it was snugly in place he looked up, and it was Fyodor Ivanovich.
“Hello,” he greeted her. “Have you come to give me a hand?”
Masha looked admiringly at the half-finished cupola, with its round belly and tapering top. “It looks difficult.”
“Not really. You just have to be gentle with it.”
Masha sat down on a tyre near by. It was soothing watching his hands shaping the bright metal. “Where are they for?”
“The new church in Podil.” Fyodor Ivanovich put his head on one side and surveyed his work critically. “Not real gold, of course. The ones in the Lavra monastery are gold leaf.”
“What about the church here, down by the river? Are you going to make any domes for that?”
“It’s already got a dome. It could do with some repairs, though, you’re right;
“Oh, really?” He raised an eyebrow. “But we had all sorts of nice things planned for you, young lady. All sorts of … surprises. It’s a little ungrateful of you to sneak off like this. Bad manners. It’s your poor upbringing showing again.”
“They’re waiting for me at home.” Masha was angry and ashamed to hear her voice come out high and squeaky.
“And now the lies. How can they be waiting for you at home? You haven’t got a home now, have you, Masha?”
“I have!” she cried. “I’m staying with Gena and Ira, and they’re waiting for me, and when Granny gets better I’ll live with her, and then when Mama comes back we’ll live together.”
“That’s a lot of
and whens
. I’ll add another one.
And when
your mother tells you what she was doing in Turkey, you might find you don’t want to live with her after all.”
“What do you mean?”
Uncle Igor simply went on smoking and gazing at her in that cold, speculative manner. At last he said, “Never mind. Come back and visit soon. You’ll be living here before too long, part of one big happy family. Until then…”
He snapped his fingers at the driver.
“Take her back.”
Chapter 10
M asha wandered slowly past the market towards the garages. She felt hot and sticky and unhappy. She’d been left on her own today, and she didn’t know what to do with herself in an empty flat that was no longer hers. At the back of her mind she could still hear Uncle Igor saying,
You haven’t got a home now, have you, Masha?
She was lonely. She wanted to talk to someone about Granny in hospital, and about her awful visit to Tsarskoe Selo two days ago. Could Uncle Igor really make her live with him as he had threatened? And then there was her mysterious second birthday. When
was
the second midsummer’s eve? Could her present be the treasure Nechipor said was buried in the enchanted place?
If only she could dream in the daytime! Then the little Cossack girl would be there and she could talk about it all, and perhaps her friend would have some answers. She put her hands on the woven belt tied round her waist and tried hard to imagine the Cossack girl: her green trousers and red boots, her smiling face under a mop of dark curly hair. But it was only a dream; she was still alone.
At the entrance to the garages, three hot dogs lay flat on their sides in the dust. One of them lifted its head and gave her a panting, doggy smile. She stepped over it carefully and went in.
“Is Fyodor Ivanovich here?” she called up to the man sitting in the watchman’s cabin. He jerked his thumb over his shoulder in reply.
Behind the cabin and surrounded by garages was a small yard full of dented cars and half-finished church cupolas. The cars were brought here to have the dents smoothed out of them, and the onion-shaped domes, taller than Masha and much fatter, were here to have a skin of gleaming metal draped over their wooden skeletons. Masha watched as a man sitting on a pile of old car bumpers worked and stroked at a sheet of metal, easing it little by little to lie smooth and buttercup yellow over the curve of the dome. When it was snugly in place he looked up, and it was Fyodor Ivanovich.
“Hello,” he greeted her. “Have you come to give me a hand?”
Masha looked admiringly at the half-finished cupola, with its round belly and tapering top. “It looks difficult.”
“Not really. You just have to be gentle with it.”
Masha sat down on a tyre near by. It was soothing watching his hands shaping the bright metal. “Where are they for?”
“The new church in Podil.” Fyodor Ivanovich put his head on one side and surveyed his work critically. “Not real gold, of course. The ones in the Lavra monastery are gold leaf.”
“What about the church here, down by the river? Are you going to make any domes for that?”
“It’s already got a dome. It could do with some repairs, though, you’re right;
Similar Books
