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Far out in the bay lay a foreign ship, her portholes gleaming. It was being loaded with grain from big
shalandas that had come out from the shore. We could hear the noise of the winches mingled with the
sound of the foreign speech and the tramp of sailors' feet on the brightly lit deck.
Lika was the first to speak.
"Look here, Vasil, I know there are quite a lot of interesting people in town who would give me
strength and an aim in life if I'd let them. But at the moment I'm talking to you about my own
surroundings..." Her voice trembled. "May I be frank with you?"
"You can try, I like frank people."
"And you promise not to spread a lot of talk about what I say?" She looked at me rather strangely
and I realized that she wanted to tell me a secret.
"Why should I do that?"
"I trust you, Vasil... You see, Father and Mother think that this isn't going to last ... I mean Soviet
power and all that..."
"Well, you do surprise me, Lika! Do you think I didn't know that without you telling me. One talk
with your father was enough."
"You realized that, did you? Well, there it is. He was very frank with you. At least, more so than with
others...
You see, my parents have convinced themselves that this just can't last, that they've got to sit and wait
for it to come to an end, like a shower of rain. And all the people they know think the same. 'Not much
longer now. . .' that's what they all say, those gossiping women who come round to see my mother. First
they placed their hopes on Wrangel, then on General Kutepov. Once there was a rumour that Petlura
had joined forces with Makhno, and that a whole army would be landing in Tavria to save Russia from
the Bolsheviks. Mother even started counting up her tsarist government bonds..."
This was too much for me and I said grimly: "That'll never happen, they'll go bald waiting for it, like
your Zuzya in our show. They'll just waste their lives and Soviet power will still be here, strong as ever."
"Let's get one thing settled right away, Vasil: Zuzya's no more 'mine' than he is 'yours.' " She sounded
hurt. "Let me finish what I was saying..." And she looked at me fixedly.
"Go on then," I said.
"Well, these women spend days on end at our house, gossiping about one thing and another, about
the weddings that were held there, how some person called Edwards got married to a Rogalikha, how
many glasses the guests broke when they got drunk. Their whole life's a memory! I hear the same thing
day in, day out, and I think to myself: 'What has all this got to do with me? They've nothing left except
their memories, but I want to live! And I could have a real future.' "
Moved by the sincerity in Lika's tone, I asked more gently: "Why did you argue with me before?"
"Oh, that was just my stupidity! Just to be argumentative."
"That never gets you far," I said.
"Do you think I don't realize that?" she said in the same sincere tone. "Of course I do! That's why I
repented and sent you that note. That's why I've come to you now.
It's the first time I've ever admitted myself wrong to anybody, obstinate creature that I am..."
"My opinion, Lika, has always been that it is better to tell a person the truth straight out than to coddle
him and pander to all his whims."
"And you're quite right. But now tell me this, are you really convinced that I'm hopeless."
I could see she had been leading up to that question for a long time. She asked it with a slight laugh,
then looked at me with her deep, attentive eyes.
"No one thinks that, but it seems to me.. ."
"Don't beat about the bush! Say what you think," Angelika challenged me.
I said it: "Won't you be sorry to leave your comfortable home with your carpets and fairies? You've
got rather used to them, haven't you?"
She replied: "Believe me, if I see so much as a gleam of light ahead, I'll find a way out. I'll break with
it all for ever."
"Are you quite sure of that?" I asked quickly.
"Absolutely! How utterly fed up with it I am, if you only knew! I used to be a tomboy and now I'm
supposed to be a young lady. My mother nearly asked Father Pimen up to the house to teach me the law
of God. But what law of God can there be, when millions of people are living by new laws!"
I found it hard to conceal my joy. "So you don't believe in religion?" I said with relief.
She laughed gaily and smacked my arm.
"You are funny sometimes, Vasil. And naive too. Surely you don't think I'm such a hopeless fool? Of
course I don't believe in it!"
"Why do you have an icon-lamp in your room then?"
Still smiling, she answered simply: "While I go on living in my parents' house, I can't have rows every
day."
"Give them up! Say to hell with all those icon-lamps and gossiping women and fairies. Go and study.
And it would be better if you went to another town. Listen, Angelika, I'll tell you something. There used
to be a girl at our factory school called Galya Kushnir. She studied with us for two years and never got
behind in anything, though she did find it pretty hard sometimes to work the cutters on . a lathe. When we
finished at school, she was sent away like the rest of us. And she had a mother and father, and no one
would have said anything against her if she had wanted to stay behind. But Galya. did the right thing.
'Aren't I as good as the boys?' she said. Our Galya had guts. She went off with the rest of us. To
Odessa. I've just had a letter from her. She's fixed up all right and very glad about it. She earns her own
wages and she's not dependent on anyone..."
Lika looked at me questioningly.
"You think I ought to throw everything up? I'd be frightened."
"Why should you be? We had chaps at school who were complete orphans, whose parents had been
killed by Petlura. But do you think those chaps came to any harm? They made the grade fine! They're
craftsmen now! Of course it was hard to live on a grant of eighteen rubles a month, that's a fact. We had
to make do with lentils and hominy for weeks on end. But we got through it. And why can't you live
independently, without your father and mother? I honestly advise you to chuck this rotten life and go and
study."
She sat without speaking, tapping her heels on the sea wall. Her gaze rested on the lighthouse that
was sweeping the sea with its silvery beam. There was something very pleasant in her thoughtful face at
that moment.
"Yes, Vasil, I've made up my mind!" she said turning sharply towards me. "It's a promise. But there's
one thing that I'm not going to chuck up that's music. I want to go and study at the conservatoire. I've
got an aunt in Leningrad, I'll go and live with her. She invited me once when she came here."
"Fine!" I said, very moved. "You seem to be a good sort after all!"
"Perhaps.. . I don't know. . ." she answered simply.
I helped her to jump down from the wall and we walked quickly towards the club. The faint sound of
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