The Smart Girl

Chapter 10

Samsonov was sitting with his head clasped in his hands, looking aside from Nina.

The interrogation was being conducted by Sinitsin who had a jacket slipped over his shoulders and one of his arms, bandaged picturesquely, in a sling.

“Is your name Kisel?”

Nina’s heart dropped.

“My name is Shuvalova…”

“You know what I mean: was your birth name Kisel?”

“Yes.”

“Is your father Kisel Yevgeniy Borisovich?”

“Yes.”

“Did your father own a civil engineering company which has been sold to Gradstroiinvest?”

“Yes,” muttered Nina, barely able to move her benumbed lips.

Aside from Samsonov, Sinitsin and Nina, Ariadna Petrovna was present in the director’s office. The woman was sitting aside, taking no part in what was going on.

Nina was exposed. As she had been interviewed for a position in the bank, she had held back some important information about herself. But what did it matter now? She wanted to reach out her hand, touch her man and say, “Darling, I love you. That’s the only thing that matters.”

“Is it true that Yevgeniy Borisovich Kisel felt keenly the problems his company faced and had a stroke as a consequence?”

“… Yes.”

“Did he believe that Gradstroiinvest treated him unfairly?”

“Yes.”

“Did you believe so, too?”

Nina faltered. How could she explain all that had been going on at that time – her father’s impracticality, the severe pressure by Gradstroiinvest, her involvement, the salvation of a major part of the capital, and as a result – her falling out with her father which had never been really repaired?…

“Yes,” she said.

In his good hand, Sinitsin was holding a file. It was impossible to say by his facial expression whether he was satisfied with the way the interrogation was going on.      “What was the purpose of your coming to work in Gradbank?”

Nina felt as if an enormous weight had been laid on her shoulders. She was unable to wriggle and lie – she only wanted all that to be over.

“I had a desire to take revenge.”

At his table, Samsonov sighed heavily, turned away and stared at the wall.

“But that was nonsense, I was just being childish. Afterwards, I forgot all that and simply worked,” Nina hastened to explain, speaking to her man who was not looking at her.

“Alas, that is hard to believe,” Sinitsin said calmly.

Nina was puzzled. What else had the vice director cooked up against her?

Sinitsin opened his file and took out a small object in a plastic folder. He laid it down before Nina.

“Do you recognize it?”

Of course, Nina recognized her memory stick – the one on which she passed, at the last minute, her salvation plan, Plan C, to Samsonov through Sinitsin.

“Yes, it’s mine.”

“And how do you explain this?”

He took out some papers and laid them down before Nina. It was a printout of Plan B.

Nina was dumbfounded. “But where did you…?”

“What was the purpose of your foisting on Gradbank’s management proposals that are bound to cause great damage to the bank in the time of crisis? Is it how you revenged your father’s distress?”

Nina gasped. “But that’s not true! I made an optimal anti-crisis plan which I called Plan C. That’s what was on my memory stick!”

She looked pleadingly at Samsonov, drawing forward to him with all her body. She expected any minute that he would burst out laughing and say that it was all a stupid joke – that of course, she had passed him a good plan which was going to bring huge benefits to the bank.

But Samsonov kept silent and would not turn to her.

“This was printed out from your memory stick. There was nothing else on it. In the situation of emergency that the bank was in at the time, your proposals were adopted without any verification and included in the project which was then submitted to the contest committee. You’ve attained your objective, Miss Kisel – you’ve dealt Gradbank a deadly blow.

Everything went dark before Nina’s eyes. Could it be that, in a hurry, she had copied the wrong plan on the memory stick? No, that was impossible! Or was it? …

Nina was drowning – an awful abyss was swallowing her – and her man who was quite close would not reach out his hand to her.

“No, it’s impossible! You can see it on my computer: I prepared two alternative plans – the worst and the best. Could I, by mistake, … No, I don’t believe it!”

Sinitsin watched her reaction closely.

“The computer that you worked on is in the junkyard already, its hard disk destroyed,” he said. “That’s security protocol.”

Nina was trembling uncontrollably.

Samsonov turned to her at last. His face was terrible.

“You… I trusted you. How could you?”

“But I swear, I never…” muttered Nina.

Samsonov banged his heavy fist on the table and got up, his massive figure towering over the scene.

“Get out of here!”

Nina fell unconscious.

Epilogue

In late March, the weather was wet and windy. Except for Nina, there was not a soul in the cemetery which she visited at this time every year.

The crows which were swaying on bare branches watched indifferently Nina squatting by a simple grave to sweep away the blanket of litter. She had difficulty squatting, hindered by her belly.

“You see, mama, my baby is due soon,” said Nina. “It’s a girl, just as you wished.”

She rose and sat on a low bench.

Her lips quivered. “Papa died, you know.”

Yevgeniy Borisovich passed away suddenly, in the same fateful September. He had a second stroke the possibility of which had been unanimously denied by his expensive doctors. Nina had never seen her father before his death.

Nina sat silently for a while, and then said, “Don’t you worry about me, mama. I’m all right. I’m teaching now, and I like it.”

After leaving the bank, she came to work in the very university that she herself had once graduated from. In his will, her father had left her one half of all his money, so Nina did not have to work now, but teaching was to her liking. The students who were separated from her by a mere ten years seemed children to her, while she felt very adult and wise. She liked her work, but soon there was going to be a break in it.

“I’ll bring you your granddaughter as soon as I can, promise,” she said to the dark marble slab which held a small, framed portrait of a young, cheerful woman – her mother. “And now I’d better go – I got a bit chilled.”

Nina stroked the slab with her hand, then rose and went away with a waddling gait of a pregnant woman.

At the cemetery gate, her miniature Folkswagen was parked. She had finally learned how to drive and got a license.

As she was opening the door of her car, Nina noticed a large automobile parked not far off. It was a VIP affair similar to the one she had once been driven in.

“Nina.”

She turned round. Before her stood Samsonov.

He sank heavily to his knees. “Nina, forgive me, I’m an idiot.”

Nina gazed at the dear face. Her man had a weary look; his massive features were sharpened, and his hair seemed to have receded even more from his forehead.

“Nina, that was all Sinitsin’s doing. It turned out he had long hated me and worked for Atlas. He replaced the plan. We found all your materials on his computer. Thank Ariadna, she sorted it all out, and we were able to make use of some of the stuff from your Plan C, so things are not all that bad now…”

Samsonov was kneeling on a thin crust of ice covering a spring pool. Under his weight, the ice broke and dirty slush came out from under it.

Tears ran down Nina’s cheeks.

“Get up, stupid, you’ll ruin your trousers,” she said.

He got up and took her timidly in his arms.

“Can you ever forgive me?”

Nina took his hand and put it on her belly.

“Meet your daughter.”

It took him some time to grasp what she had said; then he dropped down on his knees again and pressed his head to her belly muttering something.

Nina made him get up.

“Kiss me.”

A woman and a man joined in a kiss under bare, black trees. Aside, the Future was waiting patiently. In the future, they got married and their daughter arrived. Afterwards, they separated and then got together again. Another child was born… A whole life lay ahead, but for now, a man and a woman were standing at the gate of an empty cemetery, unable to break their embrace. Their endless kiss had both sweetness and bitterness to it, and Love was stretching its invisible wings over them in that cloudy sky, that cold spring wind.

2018, Moscow

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