The Borough Press
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Copyright © Andrea Bennett 2015
Cover layout design © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2015
Cover illustration by Barry Falls
Andrea Bennett asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
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Source ISBN: 9780008108380
Ebook Edition © 2015 ISBN: 9780008108397
Version: 2015-06-17
For my family, especially Louis
In the 1990s, there was a three-legged dog called Boroda, who wore no collar and lived in Azov with an old Russian lady who worked hard on her dacha.
However, everything else in this book, while inspired by my memories of the people and geography of Russia, is a work of fiction, and should be treated as such.
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Author’s Note
Glossary
1. A Typical Monday Afternoon
2. The Azov House of Culture Elderly Club
3. Mitya the Exterminator
4. A Chase
5. A Visit
6. The Plan
7. Grigory Mikhailovich
8. A Train Ride
9. A Rescue
10. Guests
11. A Date with Mitya
12. A Letter from Vasya
13. Mitya’s Angel
14. The Ministry
15. Deep in the SIZO
16. A Minor Triumph
17. The Cheese Mistress
18. The Third Way
19. A Dog’s Life
20. The Return
21. Of Butterflies, Dogs and Men
22. Rov Avia
23. Vasya’s Pussy
24. The Sunshine SIZO
25. Chickens Roost
26. The End of the Beginning
27. The End
Acknowledgements
About the Author
About the Publisher
Baba – short for babushka
Babushka – Granny, often used as a term of address of any elderly woman
Blin – a mild substitute exclamation, like “flip!”
Boroda – beard, and pronounced barada
Dacha – wooden country residence, ranging from a hut to a mansion
Dedya – Grandad, often used as a term of address of any elderly man
Duma – the Russian parliament
KAMAZ – a make of Russian truck
Kasha – porridge
Kefir – a fermented milk drink
Kroota – cool
Kvass – a fermented non-alcoholic drink made from rye bread
Laika – the stray dog sent in to orbit by the USSR in 1957
Lapochka – sweetie, term of endearment based on the word for paw, and used for small children and dogs
Lubyanka – HQ of the KGB in central Moscow
NKVD – the People’s Commissariat for Internal Affairs, or secret police (forerunner of KGB)
Perestroika – a political movement for reformation of the Communist Party during the 1980s
Sharik – little ball, it is a common dog’s name in Russia
SIZO – stands for Sledstvenny Izolyator, and is a remand prison
Skoraya – ambulance
Spetznaz – Russian Special Forces
Svoloch – bastard, git
Vareniki – small stuffed dumplings
Vint – a domestically produced stimulant drug, usually injected
‘Hey! Goryoun Tigranovich! Can you hear me?’
A warm brown hand slapped on the door once more, its force rattling the hinges this time.
‘He’s dead, I tell you! He’s probably been eaten by the cats by now. Four of them he’s got, you know. Four fluffy white cats! Who needs four fluffy white cats? White? Ridiculous!’
‘Babushka, can you hear any cats mewing?’
The two ladies, one indescribably old and striated and the other only mildly so, waited silently for a moment outside the apartment door, listening intently. Tiny Baba Krychkova bent slightly to put her ear to the keyhole, closed her eyes and sucked in her cheeks.
‘I hear nothing, Galia,’ she replied after some moments.
‘So that’s good, isn’t it, Baba? That means that Goryoun Tigranovich has probably gone on holiday to the coast, or perhaps to visit friends in Rostov, and has left the cats with someone else. And that means he isn’t lying dead in his apartment.’
‘But Galia, maybe they’re all dead! The cats and Goryoun Tigranovich! All dead! Maybe they found him too tough to eat and they starved! It’s been several days, you know.’
The older lady’s face crumpled at the thought of the starving cats and the dry, wasted cadaver of Goryoun Tigranovich, and she began to sob, rubbing a gnarled red fist into her apple-pip eyes. Other doors began to creak and moan along the length of the dusty corridor, and slowly other grey heads studded with curranty eyes bobbed into view, to peer curiously down the hall towards the source of the noise and excitement. A vague hum stretched out along the length of the building as the elderly residents rose as one from their afternoon naps, whether planned or unplanned, to witness the drama unfolding on floor 3 of Building 11, Karl Marx Avenue, in the southern Russian town of Azov. Galia sighed, and offered her handkerchief over, and made compassionate tutting noises with her tongue.