The Silver Cord - Chapter 45

Chapter 45

“Are they together?” I asked.

He seemed to consider this question and then turned to me, “I don’t think so. Although, anything is possible.”

“What do you mean?” I cried. “Are they still alive?”

He picked up a heavy marble ashtray that sat on the small table between the two chairs and weighed it in his hands. “Why didn’t you ever have children, Natalie?”

I swallowed hard, “I wasn’t able to.”

“Is there something wrong with you?”

“Max, my husband…”

“He didn’t want children?”

“No,” I whispered.

“Anna told me that he was much older than you,” Garrick said, still examining the marble ashtray. “Perhaps he couldn’t have children.”

“He wasn’t able to…” I said looking down at the tablecloth to hide my humiliation.

“So Mila is like a daughter to you, yes?”

“Yes,” I sighed.

“What will you do if her mother sends for her? What will you do then? You will have lost both your husband and your daughter.”

I remained silent, what was there to say?

“You are still in love with him?”

“Yes.”

“But he is gone. On the other hand, you are lucky. From what your sister says, you and Deszo have resumed the romance you began in college.”

I looked at Deszo, but he wouldn’t return my gaze.

Garrick looked at both of us and continued, “Anna also said your husband was from Russia?”

“Yes,” I replied.

“It’s too bad he’s not alive today. He could greet his fellow countrymen when they arrive. I wonder if they would be happy to see him? Or would they consider him a traitor?”

He put down the ashtray and went to the door of the suite. The young solider who’d brought our meal stood at the door when Garrick opened it. They spoke to one another in low tones and then the solider was gone. Garrick closed the door, walked back to the chairs near the window, and sat down. He pulled a packet of cigarettes out of his jacket.

“Deszo, would you join me over here for a smoke? Natalie, I think you’d be more comfortable if you remained at the table.”

Deszo stood and walked across the room. He took one of the offered cigarettes and sat down in the chair next to Garrick.

The door to the suite opened and the young solider appeared again. He supported Jozef under the arms and helped the beaten young boy into the room.

I rose from my seat to go to his side.

“Sit down.”

“He’s hurt, he needs help.”

“Sit down or I’ll have him killed right now,” Garrick ordered.

Slowly I returned to my seat not taking my eyes from Jozef. His head bobbed listlessly against his chest. His face was covered with blood, the first bluish purple swelling of bruises and fractured bone spread across his nose and cheeks. His eyes were swollen shut. His arms hung uselessly at his sides. Garrick nodded toward Deszo’s chair and the solider slid it from the table to the center of the room and then dropped Jozef into the seat so that he comprised a no-mans land between me and the men.