Чернобыль. Страницы жизни и любви

We would go to the doctor later, but now, we would go home: his native air, his mother, his home and it would all help. We went as a family: son and daughter, dog and us two. He was driving. But he was getting worse and worse. We decided to go through Moscow, stopping for the night with Sergei’s aunt. In Moscow, Sergei had a terrible fit.

“Natasha, do something, I’m in pain.”

I was in total confusion, but what could I do to ease his suffering? We went walking around at three in the morning, but it was difficult for him, both lying down and walking. There was no reprieve – only a pain which was strong, unendurable and all‑encompassing. I talked to him I kissed him and held his hand.

“Let’s go, let’s go home. Let’s try to wash out your insides. Drink water and try to get it out of you.”

Once we had done what we could, he went to sleep. But I prayed to God to help him. I was happy that Sergei had fallen asleep, and I was afraid to move and guarded his sleep. He found sleep so difficult…

In the morning we were on the road again, and he was driving. What I felt on that journey is a treasured memory to me. I rejoiced, looking at him. What a wonderful husband I had, how nice it was with the whole family in the car, like being in a little house. And traveling. I wanted to shout and cry from happiness, when the children were sleeping on the back seat and the dog was sitting proudly in front. It was my family and I felt I was the happiest of women.

We stopped to refuel and decided to have a bite to eat…What a nice feeling to be a woman traveling with her beloved husband and children. And this little break gives you the chance to nurse him. Everything is to hand: sandwiches, soup, and it is all wonderfully delicious. He feels wonderful because you are next to him, and you sense this. I loved feeding him when we didn’t stop for a break; I liked this especially for some reason. Maybe there was an element of rapture in this, to be together with your beloved man and get pleasure from everything that brings you together.

We drove quickly. Sergei didn’t notice the traffic cops who were trying to stop us. Their bus stood on the other side of the road. They pulled us over at a checkpoint. Sergei took his documents and got out of the car but ran back moments later.

“Natasha, come on, they that I have not only broken a law, but that I have disobeyed the traffic police. They say that a fine won’t settle it, something about a violation. I told them that you are my lawyer. Tell them everything.”

I saw how he trusted me. There was no sense in going there, I knew it, but he believed that I would sort out the situation. I went. They spoke to me rudely and it was impossible to prove anything. The man who was in charge was stubborn. One of the officers walked off, and I went after him.

“Listen, stop all this…You have to understand, he has IV stage cancer and we don’t know how long he has left, he’s just had an operation. I’m taking him to his mother and his friends. He doesn’t know. Help us, give us a fine and let us go. I beg you, don’t make him nervous.”

He asked me to go to the car:

“I understand.”

In a short time Sergei came back:

“Hey, everything is okay, they gave me my documents and destroyed the report. You know, the main thing is that everything is okay, and, well, you know, it’s only money. Anyway, we expected expenses on the road.”

And everything was all right again, and we were smiling.

We got home in the evening. Sergei was very tired and so were the children. His mother was suffering, but she really held herself together. She is a clever and strong woman. Sergei was worse still and the injections no longer helped. He telephoned his friends. We met, chatted; when I managed to get them on their own, I told his friends the truth. And they, knowing the truth, also believed that everything would be okay. They even said to him, “Everything will be okay, you’ll get better.” They also believed in me.

Thank you for your faith and your support. I also spoke with Sergei’s mother, but didn’t manage it very often. It was very difficult for us.

The documents which we needed to get in the Ukraine still weren’t ready; difficulties had arisen. I had to go to Kiev. Sergei was really worried about me and I was going crazy, thinking about how he would get through a whole twenty‑four hours without me. But I had to go. On the day I left, he said:

“I know you’ll get the certificate.”

Now I was bound to get the certificate, no matter how complicated it was. We needed it. I left very nervous. I hadn’t slept the whole night, repeating, like an incantation. “I have to make a success of this.”

He waited for me, and was rewarded. I got the paper and the official stamp. I went back home, dreaming of seeing his eyes radiating joy. I drove up to the house, went in and my legs froze: he wasn’t there to meet me, but his father instead. My heart stopped: