Red November Ch. 01

"We have a new face among us. Stand up and introduce yourself, girl."

On her bidding Konni pushed himself to his feet while rapidly going through the agreed details of his cover story in his head. "My name is Konstantina Chesnokova and I come from Nepropetrovsk on the Dnieper. I am cousin to Svetlana and Katerina, and I'm lodging at their home for a while." The ordeal over, he swiftly seated himself with his skirts elegantly spread.

"Hoorah!" shouted a boy further along the row of seats. Madam Kormilov shot him a poisonous look. "Silence, Dmitri Ranchev. If you continue to call out without being asked you'll spend the rest of the morning sitting on the doorstep."

There were no books, pens or pencils in Madam Kormilov's class. All schoolwork was done on slates with a piece of chalk, so there was no way of keeping a record of what each pupil had done. More to the point for Konni, who was academically quite sound, was the fact that everything he did that morning he'd already covered long ago at his school in Kharkov.

Throughout the morning Madam Kormilov's voice droned like a contented harvest bumble-bee. The room was warm and full of harvest smells, and during periods when the schoolmistress left them alone Konni was relieved to find that the girls saw him as convincing in his feminine masquerade. They took him into their company immediately to share in their girlish secrets, so many of which centred on the desirability of the older boys there. The boys enjoyed his company too, and he found it strangely thrilling to have them fussing over him and gazing at him with the kind of goofy expressions they are sometimes prone to when trying to impress girls. As a result he couldn't resist the temptation to swish around and offer a coy smile rather more than he'd first intended to do.

A distraction brewed up towards midday with the sound of horse's hooves trampling the road outside, and despite Madam Kormilov's fury there was a general stampede to look out of the windows.

"Bozhe moi! Cossack's. A whole troop," exclaimed Dmitri Ranchev when he noted the big fur caps worn by the riders. Konni was surprised. Everyone had told him that soldiers rarely bothered to come to the valley. Sarocherkassk was an unimportant town of no military value that sat astride a dust road that led to nowhere in particular. Important places were best reached by taking other routes. The horsemen were a wild looking bunch clothed in dun-coloured Circassian coats slung across with bandoliers of cartridges. They had clearly been misdirected and had now come to recognise the fact, but even Madam Kormilov seemed uneasy. Those outside were White troops, 'friendlies' in her mind, but it was not unheard of for soldiers to shoot their officers and change sides.

There was a certain tension in the town too, everyone felt it, and it showed on the anxious expressions of the people cagily looking on. Soldiers were always an unknown quantity no matter who they served. Both sides in this latest vicious conflict were incapable of supplying their troops in the field, and it was customary to allow them to subsist by acts of pillage on the civilian population. A few minutes passed, then in an act of appeasement several men and women went out to offer them platters of bread. Better to go hungry themselves that day than tempt the visitors into raiding their houses. The men took the food with cheerful relish, but they must have been part of some kind of urgent movement, for they dallied no longer than to water their horses before mounting up and riding back the way they had come.

Madam Kormilov stood back, arms folded tightly across her bony chest. "Russia is a land that covers one sixth of the world's surface, but it is a land of great sorrow. First we had the terrible conflict with other nations in Europe, the Germans and Austrians, and now we have the even sadder business of a Civil War in which Russians fight brother Russians. We are living through turbulent times, but thankfully the end is in sight. The vile Red Army that supports the so-called All-Russia Communist Party is in disarray and contained on all sides by the valiant forces of White Russia. As we speak a great host of military might is being assembled in the east to crush them completely, and within weeks the reactionary Bolshevik rats will go running for their holes. All that will remain then will be the need to dig them out and hit them with a spade."

Konni could see a look of desperation in her eyes, a haunted look as if a tragedy that had once overtaken her was about to catch up with her again - her husband... "Why can't everyone just come to an understanding?"

"It would be easier to gain an understanding with the devil," the woman seethed, "We cannot make peace with the soviets. It's impossible. They must be annihilated."

School finished in mid-afternoon, and the three cousins left the town and began their journey home. The sun was hot at that time of day, and the air was warm and resinous. As they walked Svetlana offered out her advice. "A little tip about school, Konni. Try not to be the only one to answer all Madam Kormilov's questions. I know you're educated and smart, but answering everything just makes you appear smug. It would be better not to draw attention to yourself. Concentrate on being a nice girl, nice being the exact word. Pretty, respectable and without any outstanding traits."

"Humph! Being a duffer goes against my instincts," he told her. "And anyway, I'm not really a girl."

They had but gone a mile along the dirt road when Katerina glanced behind and then uttered a giggle for the benefit of her sister. "We're being followed."

Svetlana refused to turn her head, but the corners of her mouth turned up and displayed a tiny smile. "Who is it?"

"Dmitri Ranchev and two others," beamed Katerina. "That Mikhail is a sort of nice looking boy." Svetlana grinned rather fiercely. "And Grigory Makhno is one to die for. Let's pause at the bridge and see what they do."

At that point on their journey home there was a small stone bridge spanning a narrow meandering stream, the bridge had a low wall at each side, crumbling now, held together by moss, ivy and good fortune, and the two girls compelled Konni to pull up with them and peer over into the water. In less than a minute the three boys drew up beside them.

"Nice day for a walk, isn't it girls?" the one called Mikhail remarked. Konni couldn't understand what Katerina saw in him. He had a mild case of acne and straggly fair hair that came down over the greasy collar of his jacket.

"You'd think different if you had to walk it every day," said Katerina in a purposely aloof way. "You all live in the other direction, what are you coming this way for?"

"It's a free country."

"Some people would disagree with that."

Grigory Makhno, as thin as a tree frog, moved up beside Svetlana and peered over the bridge. "I say, have you seen the trout in the water down there?"

Svetlana scoffed lightly. "Trout? There are no trout in this stream. My mother's farm workers try for fish here every Sunday after church. They'd tell me if there were trout."

"I was here yesterday and I saw two big brown trout swimming in the shade. Come with me down the bank and I'll show you where." With a laugh of flirtatious amusement Katerina and Svetlana skipped around the end of the bridge and went down to the stream, blissfully towing Mikhail and Grigory behind them.

Konni found himself standing alone with the third boy. Dmitri Ranchev had longish brown hair and a broad face, and he was so self-confident he was certainly conceited. Konni decided that if his head got any bigger he'd need to wear lead boots on a hot day to keep from floating away. The last thing Konstantin Golovina needed these days was a male admirer, he thought, and the very last thing he needed was one who was full of his own self-importance. All the same, when he'd sneaked a look at him earlier in the classroom he had been kind of attractive, his eyes were smoky grey, highly quizzical, and quite magnetic.

"Don't you want to see the fish?" Dmitri asked him.

"Yes, of course." He made to follow the others, but the young man took hold of his arm and tugged the other way. "There's no room for everyone in the same place. You and I would be more comfortable going down the other side of the bridge."

When they went down to the stream Konni frowned. "I don't see any fish. I can't see anything beneath all that muddy water."

His companion remained unperturbed. "One needs to be patient when looking for fish, but I understand. I guess it's not the kind of thing pretty girls have much interest in."

Konni's heart jolted. He hadn't expected him to pursue the issue of his girlish appearance, but that's just what he did.

"I like your outfit," he said. He moved forward and inspected Konni's oval face, the naked pink of his lips and the warm velvet brown of his eyes. So convinced was he that he was confronting a girl he at once attempted a caress. His knuckles brushed across his neckline, and Konni swallowed hard. A pounding heart rushed the heat of shame into his face. He'd barely been touched, yet his nipples became tight and tingly. He needed his head examined for responding to such cynical abuse.

He drew himself up to his full height. "I don't understand your attitude, and I'm not prepared for... for..." He searched around but couldn't find a suitable description. Instead he took a deep breath. "I won't put up with you pawing me like a puppy dog." He stepped away meaning to leave, but the boy must have moved sideways because they ended up toe-to-toe and he was studying him purposefully. "What are you - don't - don't you dare." He took a quick shallow breath. "You can't - you can't kiss me."

Dimitri grinned. "Why not?" he asked, skimming a finger across his cheek.

"Because - because - you mustn't."

Nevertheless, despite his protest the other persons mouth descended onto his own, making him swallow anything else he had to say and all his complaints. It skidded over his lips, clamped down and sucked vigorously. Konni felt helpless, his protests fled and he couldn't even remember what they were. Some dim recess registered the soft thump of his shoes on the dusty earth, the rough strength of Dmitri's hands on his shoulders, the brush of his unbuttoned jacket against his belly and the accelerating thud of his own heartbeat. For a moment he managed to concentrate on the taste of frustrated anger - and then he needed to breathe.

With his nose hard up against the Dmitri's cheek, he inhaled the scent of his skin, the elemental male smell of a young man. Feeling helpless he uncurled his fingers from the tight fists crushed between their bodies and gripped the youth's jacket, anchoring himself against a sudden weakness in his knees.

His mouth eased it dominant pressure, and for a fleeting moment he savoured a gentled caress, the merest brush of his thumbs on his neck, the fullness of his lips on his own. And then those lips retreated as quickly as they had advanced, leaving him feeling swamped by conflicting emotions. Shocked confusion registered in his eyes as he released the grip on the boys lapels but he deliberately coaxed his mouth into a facsimile of a smile, determined to maintain his pretence as a girl, and one feisty enough to be in control.

"If that's a sample of what you can do, I count myself lucky," he drawled.

Dmitri's eyes glinted dangerously, and the grip on his shoulders tightened. "You want something else I suppose?"

"N-no. Just leave me alone."

"Hello below," a man's voice up on the bridge suddenly bellowed. "You people down there, come up onto the road at once."

It was Yanek Skoropadski, the village priest, sitting astride a donkey. He was a relatively small man who by dint of the bustling, busy force of his character made almost everyone feel they were no taller than he. The hair beneath his tall cleric's cap was brindled, grey and thinning, but an immense scraggy beard made up for deficiencies elsewhere. His words had also been directed at Konni's cousins and their admirers and he stared hard at each of them in turn once they had climbed up the slope. His eyes were bright and people generally called his gaze piercing since they were capable of showing malice when he was upset and in a temper.

Yanek had just completed a regular tradition that day. In the years of a good harvest he entered the homes of all his parishioners to bless the icons they cherished, and it was then the custom to offer him a small tot of vodka together with a piece of cheesecake. How the holy gentleman survived such a large circuit of hospitality was a mystery.

"What were you all doing down there?"

"We - we were looking for fish, sir," replied Dmitri with innocent respect.

The priest's eyes narrowed. "Rubbish. I know very well what you were up to. Indiscretions. Kissing! Lust of the flesh, that's what it was about." Turning to the boys he snarled. "You scoundrels get to your homes before I think to tell your fathers to put a strap to your backs."

Swaying slightly from his perch on the donkey he then set his fierce eyes upon Konni and his cousins. "You girls should know better. Your conduct today is disgraceful, but I'll hold back from returning to pain your mother with an account of your coarseness. Get to the dear woman's side this instant and never let me catch you in such circumstances again."

When they were out of the old mans earshot Katrina grinned, quite unmoved by their recent berating. "I let Mikhail kiss me. It was heavenly," she admitted.

"Grigory Makhno needs no lessons in kissing either," her sister replied. In amused collusion they both glanced sideways at Konni. "Did Dmitri kiss you, Konni?"

The boys face reddened like a radish. "Don't be absurd... of course not...I-I..." Unwilling to endure their mockery he strode out in front of them and collided with a farm boy coming out from a field. The young peasant wore patched breeches and a sweat stained shirt, and he had straw in his hair. Konni reeled back in surprise like he'd just made contact with a leper. "Get out of my way, you smelly ignoramus," he snapped harshly, and then broke into a run.

***

His aunt presided over supper, so the girls made no attempt to ridicule him while they were all eating. Afterwards, wanting to avoid them, Konni found a magazine in a cupboard and took it upstairs to his room, only to find he was too alert to settle for reading and too restless to go to sleep. For ages he tossed and turned while his arms flailed semaphore signals.

Try as he might he couldn't get the image of Dmitri Ranchev out of his mind. He kept thinking of the knee pressing onto the front of his skirt, his fingers gripping his jacket, and the way his own lips became soft and yielding upon his assault. Why had he allowed that oaf to kiss him?

A blush bloomed on his cheeks. That fellows hands had felt so warm and tingly when they touched him. And Heavens! His kiss had been something incredible. Being held in his arms. Wonderful! Awful! His senses had reeled from the experience. Closing his eyes, he drew in a slow, calming breath and decided a strip wash in cold water would settle him down.

He swung his feet onto the bedside rug, trying to tread the edge of it flat. The humidity of the summer had made it curl. When he stood in front of the washstand wearing just his pantaloons he could resist doing a half turn, but he was frustrated by there being insufficient mirror to view his whole profile. He ran his hands over his bottom, pressing the fabric onto his skin.

It felt rather good. Looking a girl wasn't difficult. He decided he hadn't been thinking earlier; he'd been reacting. Reacting to being abruptly wrenched out from a school life to which he had become accustomed and thrust hundreds of miles into the raw countryside to live with girls and be a girl. He'd reacted in tune with memories that haunted his dreams and stole his sleep, of times when his life was full of young men who appreciated each other, admired each other and had learnt how to please each other.

A gentle tapping on his bedroom door disturbed his thoughts, and Svetlana added her voice. "Will you let us in?"

Caution at first, hesitant behind the closed door of his room, he barked a harsh reply. "I don't want to see you if you're going to make fun of me."

"I promise. Open the door."

Both Svetlana and Katerina were standing outside when he unlocked the door. There was something unusual about them. Something new. Their mouths looked extraordinarily red and juicy, and in a rush he realised why. "You're both wearing lip rouge!" he said in a tone of censure. "My tutors in Kharkov say only disreputable painted girls use that sort of thing."

"And showgirls at the Moulin Rouge in Paris," giggled Katerina with a swing of her hips. She was plainly finding delight in behaving disgracefully. "The uncle of Elizaveta Alexandrov bought it for her while on his travels, but her mother won't let her keep it."

"Would you like to try some?" Svetlana asked. "Mama is at a cartel meeting with other kulaks from the valley, and Lubya Ocheretko is drunk and asleep over the kitchen table. No one will know."

Konni scowled. "Put on lip rouge? Certainly not."

"Don't be such a stick in the mud. Try it for the adventure. All girls like to try it."

"I'm not a girl," Konni sniped, but for some reason his hands flew up to cover his bare chest.

Svetlana raised her eyebrows and smirked. "Don't do that. You look like you're drawing attention to things. Dear Konni, you're such a prude. You must learn to relax about such things and enjoy being a girl. Despite my own doubts you made a good impression with everyone at school, especially with Dimitri Ranchev, but to keep it up you must relax."

"I hated what Dimitri did."

"I expect you did. Just wearing a skirt doesn't mean you can instantly forget all the social rules that have been drummed into you. Kissing with a girl would have been easier. Tell you what. We can practise. If you swoon in my arms a little bit and tell me you want to be a girl, I'll kiss you."

Katerina snickered, but Konni ignored her as his cheeks turned pink.

Svetlana smiled warmly. "You'd like me to kiss you, wouldn't you?"

Konni nodded shyly. Had she noticed his hands shaking? Or how difficult it was for him to breathe? Worse of all - did she know he'd always nursed a fantasy for kissing her. No, he doubted that neither she nor her sister had noticed that. He'd learned long ago how to hide his feelings.

With some gesturing and whispering and hushing of each other, the two girls led Konni towards the bed and Svetlana positioned herself at his side. "Sit down next to me. You must agree to wear lip rouge if I'm to kiss you. That's part of the deal."

He dragged his hands down over his face, then looked up placidly. "I suppose..."

The girls smiled and looked at each other. Katerina held the bedside oil-lamp nearer while her elder sister dealt with the smearing on and blotting of lipstick, and when it was done she brought across the mirror and held it in front of him. "Turn your head slightly and take a sideways look at yourself. Pout a little and dip your eyelashes. You've got heavenly lashes."

Konni took a reluctant sideways peep into the mirror and caught his breath. For the first time he had an inkling of the way others saw him. It was startling. He made rather a lovely looking girl.

"There! You do look gorgeous, don't you?" Svetlana enthused.

"I wouldn't dare to wear rouge outside."

"None of us will be allowed to do that," said Katerina, "but it makes a fine amusement, doesn't it? And don't worry. You have the looks to pass as a girl without it."

"It makes you appear very kissable," added her sister.

Konni dipped his eyes. "It's easy to say that."