Doctor Gavrilov (25 page)

Katie held Anna tightly in her arms, barely able to let go of her for a moment. When she arrived in the morning Anna had seemed quite all right; she was sitting up in bed and seemed pleased to be the centre of attention. The registrar explained that the police had requested an interview with Anna as soon as she was fit; he thought this afternoon would be all right, and that Anna might even be able to go home the next day.

When the police came to talk to her in the afternoon, Katie went with Dmitry to see them in a private room; he held the sleeping Sasha in his arms. The police had to admit that they were a little puzzled. It was clear that Anna must have been abducted. The hospital had thought that the injuries could have been caused by the child falling out of a moving car. Nobody in the street where she had gone missing had seen anything; there were no witnesses. There seemed to be no clear motive; the policeman was pleased to be able to tell them that, unusually in an abduction of this sort, there was no evidence that Anna had been sexually assaulted.

Katie felt faint for a moment when the policeman said this; thank God, she thought, oh thank God. She felt Dmitry tense, and heard his sudden intake of breath. Then she said, ‘But I don't understand… why Anna? Will he come back for her, do you think?'

‘Don't worry, we think that very unlikely. Abductions by a stranger are usually very opportunistic. He may have been watching near the school, but then saw a child alone, and took his chance. It's most likely that whoever it is will keep away now, for fear of being recognised. He'll know we're looking for him.'

The policewoman said, ‘But it is important that we talk to her as soon as possible. Other children may be at risk… Her memory may be affected, but she may be able to tell us something.'

Dmitry suddenly became agitated, almost hostile. ‘But what is she going to be able to tell you that will be of any use? I don't want her put through a police interrogation… She is just a little child.'

Katie put her hand on his arm. She said, ‘Mitya, I know it's awful, but it has to be done.'

‘No, it does not have to be done. It will only upset her… what is the point. We want to take her home.' He said this emphatically; his voice shook; Katie looked at him with dismay. She was disappointed in him for a moment; she looked for him to support her in this crisis and received only his own confusion and distress. The policeman and policewoman were looking at him; she could tell that they thought there was something wrong with his attitude but didn't understand what it was; she saw a look of meaning pass between them.

The policeman said, quite coldly, ‘With respect, sir, I understand that you are not the child's father and you have not adopted her. As far as I am aware, you have no right… the decision must rest with the mother. If she is happy for us to talk to Anna…'

Katie said, ‘Please, this isn't necessary. Just because she is not legally his child doesn't mean he has no feelings… I know what he means. It may be distressing for her… she may not want to talk about it.'

The policewoman said, ‘We will be very sensitive. If she doesn't want to talk to us now we will respect that… we can always come again later.'

Dmitry didn't say anything. Sasha, who had been sleeping all this time, woke and began to cry. Dmitry stood up and said, ‘Whatever you wish… You had better talk to her… I will take Sasha for a walk.'

‘We don't want you to leave the hospital,' said the policeman, ‘Till we've spoken to Anna. I'll ask someone to accompany you. I'm sorry, but it's police procedure.'

Dmitry went downstairs, holding the baby across his arm, trembling with anger and self-hatred, aware of the policeman following a few paces behind him. He knew he could not carry on, causing pain and damage to everyone around him, to Katie, who he loved, to Anna, to his innocent child. Of course she didn't understand him; how could she; she did not realise that he was responsible for all this suffering and that he alone held the key to making them safe. He went into the coffee bar and found the payphones, dug in his pocket for some change. He said, ‘I have to make a call… I need to cancel an appointment.' He knew now that he had no choice, and that the sooner he phoned the Libyans, the better.

As soon as he got through he said, turning to face the wall to avoid the policeman's gaze, ‘I've changed my mind. I want to continue with the project.'

‘Indeed? That is good news. Excellent… the arrangements are all made…'

‘Yes, but I can't talk now… perhaps we can meet and discuss this.' Sasha was beginning to grumble and struggle in his arms. Dmitry pressed his cheek against the warm down on his head. The thought of what he was about to give up made his heart turn cold as ice. He hardly heard the Libyan's voice arranging when and where to meet.

Dmitry hung up. He nodded to the policeman and they went back upstairs. He walked up and down, soothing Sasha, almost giddy from lack of sleep. He sat in a chair and let Sasha rest on his shoulder, his eyes on the door behind which Anna was revealing… what? What could she say that would reveal anything worse than what he would soon have to confess to Katie? It didn't matter. Nothing mattered. Soon he would go home, and sleep.

Anna had needed persuasion to talk about it at all. Katie sat with her throughout the interview, reassuring her; Anna addressed herself to her rather than the police. Anna said there had been two men in the car, one driving and the other with her in the back. The car was dark blue. She hadn't wanted to get in, she knew she shouldn't, but the man in the back had grabbed her. She said, ‘The man gave me some sweeties in the car. We went a long way. He said we were going home but it was the wrong way.' She couldn't remember what he was wearing. He was wearing trousers. She didn't know what colour. When the policewoman said brown she said yes, but when she suggested blue or black she also said yes. She said she didn't know if they were English, but they didn't have funny voices. Their hair was dark and their skin was light brown. They were not boys but they were not old and they didn't have beards. They were wearing sunglasses. The sweeties had been those little fizzy ones in a packet. She had eaten two packets and they had made her feel a bit sick. When asked if they had hurt her, she said ‘No.' Then she said, ‘Mummy, I want Mitya.' She couldn't remember how she got out of the car and wouldn't talk about it anymore.

The police got up to leave. They said they would like to see her a few days later, perhaps when she was at home. They suggested Katie should talk to her about it again when she was more relaxed; if she said anything of interest perhaps Katie could let them know. Perhaps she could ask Anna to draw a picture of the car or the men. They said that two men were unusual; these people tended to operate alone. Maybe, they said, they had fallen out, or one had persuaded the other out of it and they had decided to leave Anna by the roadside. It was unlikely that Anna would have been able to open the door herself. They said Anna seemed to have lost the memory of the incident itself but that was normal. She might have suppressed anything frightening that had happened to her but recall it later when the fear had faded.

Katie saw them stop and talk to Dmitry on the way out; saw him start as they approached him and repeatedly shake his head. She went to join him. They were asking him where he had been that afternoon and he said that he had been to the library and then gone for a walk. They asked exactly where he had been walking and he said he had been to Hyde Park. No, he had not seen anybody, he had not met anybody, he had been on his own. He said he couldn't remember exactly when he had left the library because he hadn't looked at his watch.

Katie was frightened for a moment; she wondered if they suspected him, the stepfather. His replies seemed to her confusing and evasive, and this alarmed her, not because she thought he was lying, though this did cross her mind for a brief instant, but because she thought they might mistakenly take some action against him. She also did wonder for a moment whether there couldn't be some strange connection between Dmitry's odd behaviour and what had happened to Anna, though she failed to see what this could be. The police however seemed to be satisfied; they folded up their notebooks and went downstairs. Dmitry turned to Katie and said, ‘Anna didn't remember anything.' Despite his flat tone, she took it as a question.

‘Two men, perhaps Asian, a blue car, that's all. The police said, two men was unusual. Why, Mitya, why?'

He only stared at her helplessly and shrugged his shoulders.

Katie was at her wit's end. After an initial reaction of relief, of thankfulness, Dmitry seemed even more withdrawn, more upset and anxious than before.

He hung around the house, showing no sign of doing any work or engaging himself in any useful activity. When she asked him what he was doing he simply said that he was thinking, or that he didn't have anything urgent to do at the moment, he was waiting for comments on his draft. Katie wanted to press him further, but realised she didn't have the courage. She knew that something was very wrong but was so in fear of what he might reveal to her that she couldn't ask him at the moment, and she was also afraid of having a confrontation, of doing anything that might further upset Anna, although his withdrawal seemed so extreme that she began to wonder if he was actually ill or having a breakdown of some sort.

About a week after Anna had come home from hospital, Katie finally lost her patience. She came down from reading Anna's bed-time story and found the supper ruined and Dmitry simply sitting at the kitchen table with his head in his hands. When she came down he dropped his arms on to the table as if they were too heavy to hold up any longer. Katie shouted at him: ‘Can't you do anything? The carrots have boiled dry… didn't you smell them?' He didn't seem to have noticed anything, but looked at her wildly as if she were speaking in some language he didn't understand. Katie rescued what she could of the carrots and potatoes and put them in a dish on the table with the ham. She sat down, facing him, and he pushed his plate away.

‘Mitya, you must eat.'

‘I can't.'

‘We have to talk. I'm so worried about you – you can't go on like this. I think you must be ill… you should go and see a doctor.'

‘I am not ill.'

‘I think you must have some kind of depressive illness, to behave like this. Please, Mitya, can't you get some anti-depressants or something? I can't live with this.'

‘For God's sake. What would they do? That is typical of you, to think that some pills will change anything. It is not my mind which is at fault, it is my situation.'

Katie was angry at this injustice to her; surely he knew she saw anti-depressants as a last resort, had deliberately held back from mentioning them for as long as possible. She said, ‘And what is it about your situation that is so terrible? Have you lost all your work and can't bring yourself to tell me? Have you got us into more debt? Have you…' she cast around wildly – ‘Got some woman pregnant?'