A couple of weeks after he got back from hospital we finally moved from the summer kitchen into the main house with Sergey’s sister Ira and her husband Alex. The tenants had left and Ira had decorated the house ready for us. I liked her. She and Alex worked on a market stall selling wedding dresses and, although they couldn’t have children of their own, had taken in their niece Vica when her mother had committed suicide.
They had a good life and it was almost like being part of a family again. Our new home might not have had running water or an inside toilet, but it had a proper corrugated iron roof, white walls and maroon floorboards. There was also a living room where Vica slept and two bedrooms—one for Ira and Alex and another for Sergey, Sasha and me. But although I enjoyed sitting together with Ira in the evenings, I still wasn’t sure whether I could really trust her or not. She was Sergey’s sister after all, even if she didn’t seem to like him much. But she was also kind—she gave Sasha and me food whenever she could and looked after her niece Vica when she could easily have put her into an orphanage just as I had done with Pasha.
I hadn’t forgotten my little Pasha, of course. I thought of him constantly but even though I longed to see and hold him, I was too scared to go the orphanage. I was consumed with guilt for leaving him there, and terrified of what he might be suffering. I couldn’t bear to think about his tiny body undergoing an operation and dreaded to think of how he might look at me when I visited him. So I was a coward and, despite my longing, I did not go.
He’s better where he is, I told myself firmly. And he’ll be coming home when his six months at the orphanage are up, and then I’ll be a better mother to him.
Soon after Pasha left, I discovered I was pregnant again. I could not refuse my husband what he wanted and did not have the money for contraception. But even though I worried about feeding another mouth, I was also happy. I just knew everything would be different this time: I would be a good mother and this baby would be easy and healthy where Pasha had been sick and unhappy. I would prove that I could be a good mother and, when Pasha came home, he would have a new baby brother or sister to love.
Sergey didn’t say much about it when I told him but I didn’t care as long as he left me alone. I had done what he wanted—given Pasha to the orphanage and stopped working—and so he seemed happier now. All I could do was pray that he would continue to leave me alone.
This time though, God wouldn’t hear my prayers.
A couple of months later Sergey asked me to go out with him one night. As darkness fell we walked down a dirt road towards a stone house with a big metal door.
We walked inside and into a dirty room with an old sofa and bed in it. In the half light, I could see four men and two girls listening to music. They all seemed drunk.
Sergey immediately started chatting but I said nothing as I sat down. The girls looked as if they were going to pass out and soon one of the men had pulled them to their feet.
‘We’re going,’ he said and they left.
Soon Sergey got up as well.
‘I’ve got some business,’ he told me. ‘I won’t be long.’
Now I was alone with two men—one had dark hair and was tall and slim, while the other was shorter and a little fatter.
‘So how are you?’ the dark man asked. ‘Would you like a drink?’
‘No thanks,’ I told him. ‘I’ll have to leave soon.’
He walked over to the sofa and sat down next to me. ‘Come on, have one,’ he said in a sing-song voice.
‘No, thanks,’ I said as I felt his arm move around my shoulders. I pushed him away.
‘Just a friendly hug,’ he laughed as he stood up and walked over to the table where he sat down again and started rolling cannabis into a cigarette. I knew what it was because Sergey sometimes smoked it. The smell was horrible.
I looked about anxiously. Where was Sergey? He had been gone so long, was probably getting drunk somewhere. I’d had enough. I wanted to leave.
The fat man got off his chair as I stood up. ‘Where are you going?’ he cried.
‘Home.’
‘No, no. Don’t go.’
The dark man got up and walked towards me. ‘No, don’t,’ he said. ‘We’re just getting started.’
‘But I’ve got to,’ I replied and turned away. Suddenly an arm twisted around my throat from behind. ‘Let me go!’ I cried.
‘No,’ a voice said. ‘First we’re going to enjoy you. You’ll be okay. You’ll like it too.’
I knew instantly what he wanted. This couldn’t be happening—not with a baby inside me. ‘No,’ I screamed as I tried to break free. ‘Sergey will kill you. He’ll be back in a minute.’
‘No, he won’t,’ the voice behind me laughed. ‘He’s very busy.’
I struggled as the arm closed even tighter around my neck. It was so strong that I couldn’t breathe. Panic twisted inside as I was pulled towards the bed and pushed onto it before the dark man climbed on top of me—grabbing my hair and pushing his mouth onto mine as I screamed. Pictures of the beach flashed into my mind and the cold terror I had felt then filled me. ‘Please, please leave me alone,’ I pleaded as I started crying. ‘I’ll do anything.’
But the men didn’t listen as they tied my hands above my head and something silenced me. There is only so much a soul can take before it freezes into nothing and that is what happened to me that night. My mind went blank as the men forced their way into the furthest corners of my body and I turned to stone.
They laughed and smoked when they’d finished, and I pulled on my clothes before stumbling out of the house into the darkness.
Sergey was sitting waiting for me.
‘I need to talk to you,’ I whispered. I had to tell him what had happened, otherwise the men might talk and he’d think I’d wanted them. Then he would kill me. Tears ran down my face as we started walking.
‘What’s wrong?’ he asked.
‘Your friends…’
‘Yes?’
‘I’ve been raped.’
Sergey stopped walking. ‘Really?’ he said slowly.
‘Yes. They made me do it. I swear. I couldn’t stop them.’
He looked at me. ‘I know what happened. Those men are my friends. Nobody raped you, so why are you lying?’
Confusion rushed up inside me. ‘But I’m not,’ I shouted. ‘They raped me while you were away.’
‘I was outside all the time, Oxana.’
‘Well, then you must have heard me screaming.’
‘I didn’t hear anything,’ said Sergey, his voice like ice with a smile in it.
Suddenly my whole body went cold. He knew what had happened to me, had done nothing as he heard my screams.
‘Did you think I’d let you get away with having your dirty lovers do your dirty work?’ Sergey said softly. ‘Did you think I’d just forget what those Muslim fuckers did to me?’
I turned away. ‘I’m going,’ I sobbed. ‘To Mamma’s, the police, I don’t care if I have to live on the streets.’