Berezovo: A Revolutionary Russian Epic

Smiling, Tatyana unravelled the spool of blue ribbon into a manageable length. Picking up the hem of petticoat cloth, she measured a thumb’s width above its edge and laid the ribbon against the cloth. Plucking the first pin from her sleeve, she carefully inserted it into the top edge of the ribbon and got to work, falling into the once familiar rhythm of gathering, measuring and pinning. As she worked they talked, Raisa speaking softly down at her from her eminence, she mumbling replies of agreement or disagreement, her lips tightly clamped on more pins as she circled the stool on her knees. What did she think of the fuss everyone was making about the arrival of the insurrectionists? Did she know anything more about the spread of the typhus epidemic in the villages to the south of the town? Was it true what people were saying, that Leonid was buying extra wood for coffins? Had she heard that Dr. Tortsov had forbidden Hospital Administrator Tolkach from acting opposite his wife in the forthcoming play? Only when Tatyana had almost completed her circumnavigation of the petticoat and was once more kneeling before her did Raisa ask her the question that was uppermost on her mind.

“Tanya, are you and Lyonya happy?”

Frowning, Tatyana took the remaining pin from her mouth and placed it firmly in the final inch of ribbon.

“There!” she said, nodding in satisfaction as she checked the level of the ribbon for the last time. “Yes, quite happy thank you.”

“I don’t see how you can be,” murmured the voice above her head, “while he is busy betraying you with Irena.”

“Now you know that is not true,” said Tatyana, frowning down at the hem. “You have no evidence of that and Irena has been a good friend to me.”

Reaching into her work basket, Tatyana pulled out a pair of long bladed scissors and briskly snipped off the remaining length of ribbon that was trailing from the petticoat.

“No she hasn’t, and no, she isn’t,” insisted Raisa, as she stepped down from the stool. “Yes, she has taken you up and invited you to her house and lent you the occasional piece of jewellery and shared her perfume with you – both of which, incidentally, do not suit you – but she is not a true friend. What do you know about her? Has she ever confided in you?”

Picking up her workbasket, Tatyana held it defensively on her lap as she packed away her dressmaking materials.

“I know that she has had a difficult life and an unhappy one before she came to Berezovo,” she declared. “I know that she takes people as they are, without judging them. I know that she is a new friend who takes me as I am now, not one who always dredges up my past faults or failings. And I know that she is fun and interesting to be with. I am only sorry that you are so jealous of her.”

“Jealous?” exclaimed Raisa, raising her voice for the first time. “I could never be jealous of her. If anything I pity her, and I would feel deeply sorry for her if she wasn’t trying so very hard to make my best friend so very unhappy.”

“But I’m not unhappy!” insisted Tatyana shrilly.

Taking a seat next to her, Raisa clasped her hands together as if in prayer.

“Tanya, Irena Kuibysheva is like a scorpion,” she said slowly. “It is in her nature to sting you. She can’t help it, which is why, really, she should be pitied. But she won’t be.”

Tatyana glared at her.

“Do you sincerely believe anything like that could happen without my knowing?” she asked.

“But it may be happening right now, under your very nose!” cried Raisa, throwing her hands apart in exasperation. “All your friends know it.”

Tatyana shook her head, dismissing the possibility.

“All my friends?” she demanded. “Who exactly?”

“Myself, Lidiya, Olga – all your oldest friends. And no doubt many other people who know you in the town. People whose husbands do business with Leonid every day. Everyone in the town is talking about it.”

Tatyana shook her head again in disagreement.

“But you have no proof for these lies. Where is your evidence?”

“But Tanya, all their meetings… Do you really think that the Town does not see? Sharing a table at the Hotel New Century? All those brief encounters at the Library… As if Irena Kuibysheva ever reads a book! Or your Leonid, for that matter.”

Gathering up her work bag, Tatyana got to her feet.

“I think I had better be leaving,” she said coldly, “before one of us says or does something hurtful that we will later regret. Don’t bother to see me out.”

Raisa moved as if to rise but her friend’s sharp tone stopped her.

“No, Raisa, don’t get up or try and stop me going or I swear to God I will strike you…”

With this last word she left the room and less than a minute later Raisa heard the front door close behind her.