‘Angel, I’ve got to go now,’ he said.
‘No!’ Anna shook the Colonel off her, and moved back to her father but he held up his hand. ‘Please. I’ll be back soon. I promise.’
‘No. Don’t leave me here! You can’t!’
Her father said nothing. He hung his head. Tears cascaded down Anna’s face. She continued to protest but it made no difference. Kankava edged past her and gently shut the door.
Thus bringing to a close the life of Anna Abayev, the girl.
CHAPTER 9
Some three months passed at the mansion known as Winter’s Retreat. Anna had celebrated her fourteenth birthday with Kankava, two other young maids in their early twenties, and a small birthday cake with a single candle that Anna made. She’d not once heard from her father. Kankava said he hadn’t either. In fact, he didn’t even know which country her father had since travelled to.
Three months. To Anna it felt like a lifetime. She’d already begun to wonder whether she would ever see him again.
Kankava allowed Anna to go to a local school three days a week. The other four days and every evening, she provided assistance in Winter’s Retreat; cleaning, cooking and tending to the veterans. That was the worst part. The men’s ages ranged from early twenties to well into their sixties. Some were amputees, some suffered various forms of paralysis, others were mere vegetables who barely resembled living and breathing beings.
Most of the men looked upon Anna with a sickly glint in their eyes, as they did upon the other maids: Viktoria and Maria. Anna would cringe and hold her nose, somehow keeping back the tears as she wiped the men’s arses, changed their catheters, bathed them.
Anna hated every minute of it, but she also hated herself for feeling so disgusted by her role. These men needed help. They were war heroes. They had fought for Georgia and for the lives of others. Yet she felt revulsion at having to assist them in a time of need. Shame on her.
Kankava had reminded Anna of the same on more than one occasion. Reminded her that it was her father’s wish that she perform these duties. And she didn’t want to disappoint her father, did she?
It wasn’t all bad, though. There was one patient whose company she had warmed to. Alex. In many ways, he reminded Anna of her father. He was in his early forties. He had a hard face, battle worn and scarred, but his eyes and his manner were kind. To Anna he looked like a movie star from a Hollywood action film: all brute and brawn.
Alex was paralysed from the neck down. His mind, on the other hand, was fully cognisant and he was truly engaging. And he was one of few men at Winter’s Retreat who didn’t look upon Anna like that.
‘It was your birthday?’ Alex asked after swallowing a mouthful of food.
Anna was sitting next to his bed, a plate of boiled potatoes, carrots, and stewed beef on her lap.
‘Yes,’ Anna said.
‘How old?
Anna looked down at the food, feeling embarrassed. ‘Fourteen.’
‘I thought you were older.’
‘I guess I look older.’
‘Not a good thing for a fourteen-year-old girl.’
‘I’m not a girl anymore.’
‘Yes you are. And don’t let anyone in here tell you otherwise.’
Anna gave Alex another mouthful. He chewed the meat as he stared into space.
‘You like it here?’
‘Yes,’ she lied.
Alex laughed. ‘You don’t have to pretend with me.’
‘I like to help.’
‘You like the idea of helping.’
‘That’s not how it is,’ Anna retorted.
Alex smiled. ‘That’s fine. We do need you here. I just find it strange that a girl of your age is not out in the world having fun.’
‘I’ve never been like other girls.’
‘I’m sure. Your father is Vlad Abayev?’
‘Yes,’ Anna said, surprised. ‘You know my father?’
‘I know who he is, yes. I’m surprised he let you come to this place.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ Anna responded. Usually Alex was kind and accommodating but she got the feeling he was trying to test her.
‘Nothing. Forget it.’
She glanced at the tattoos on Alex’s arms and neck, as she often did. She knew from bathing him that he had many more on his torso and back. Prison tattoos, she assumed – there to tell his life story, brag about the crimes he had committed, show his ranking amongst his peers. Though precisely what they indicated she had no idea.
Even though Alex wasn’t that old, the tattoos had become misshapen and crinkled as a result of the vast amount of bodyweight, muscle in particular, that he’d lost. She imagined what he must have looked like in his prime when he was full of life and bulked up. Alex the warrior, rather than Alex the bed-ridden cripple. She would liked to have seen that.
‘You like the tattoos?’ Alex said, catching her eye.
‘I don’t know.’ Anna shrugged. ‘Some are nice. But they must have hurt.’
‘Not as much as earning them.’ Alex paused. ‘Can I ask you a question?’
Anna hesitated, feeding Alex another lump of meat. ‘Yes.’
‘Do you like the Mkhedrioni?’
Anna shrugged again.
‘That’s what most of the men here were,’ Alex said.
‘I never thought about it much.’
‘That’s a lie. You tend to us every day. You must have thought about who we are and what brought us here.’
‘It’s not a lie. I’m helping because you need it and because I don’t have anywhere else to go.’
‘You could run away if you don’t like it here.’
‘There’s nowhere for me to run to. And why would I run when I have a safe place to live, and money.’
‘You’re a bright girl, Anna. I see it in you. You’ve got character. You’re different to the others.’
‘Thanks. I think. But I meant what I said. I don’t know much about the Mkhedrioni. I was only nine when we won independence. I’d not heard of the Mkhedrioni before then.’
‘No, but you heard of us since?’
‘Of course. You were everywhere. Every other street in Tiblisi had roadblocks manned by Mkhedrioni. All the boys at school wanted to be just like them. Like you.’
Alex smiled as though fondly reminiscing those deadly days. For a time, the Mkhedrioni had ruled the streets of Georgia – the government too. But in essence they weren’t far removed from the criminal underworld – the Georgian mafia. In fact, many of its highest-ranking members were exactly that.
‘I thought it was terrifying,’ Anna added. ‘You couldn’t go anywhere without having a gun pointed at you.’
‘We were keeping you safe,’ Alex said. ‘We fought for you and for every other Georgian.’
‘Before the Mkhedrioni, were you a soldier?’ Anna asked. ‘In the army?’