Dimka asked: “What are you going to give him?”

“A tape recorder. He wants a Grundig—that’s a German brand.”

Only on the black market could a Soviet citizen buy a German tape recorder. Dimka wondered how Natalya could afford such an expensive gift. “Where are you going to find one?” he asked.

“There’s a guy called Max at the Central Market.” This bazaar, in Sadovaya-Samotyochnaya, was a lawful alternative to state stores. Produce from private gardens was sold at higher prices. Instead of long queues and unattractive displays, there were mountains of colorful vegetables—for those who could afford them. And the sale of legitimate produce masked even more profitable illegal business at many of the stalls.

Dimka understood why Natalya wanted company. Some of the men who did this kind of work were thugs, and a woman had reason to be wary.

Dimka hoped that was her only motive. He did not want to be led into temptation. He felt close to Nina just now, her time being near. They had not had sex for a couple of months, which made him more vulnerable to Natalya’s charms. But that paled beside the drama of pregnancy. The last thing Dimka wanted was a dalliance with Natalya. But he could hardly refuse her this simple favor.

They went in the lunch hour. Natalya drove Dimka to the market in her ancient Mercedes. Despite its age it was fast and comfortable. How did she get parts for it, he wondered?

On the way she asked him about Nina. “The baby is due any day,” he said.

“Let me know if you need baby supplies,” Natalya said. “Nik’s sister has a three-year-old who no longer needs feeding bottles and suchlike.”

Dimka was surprised. Baby feeding bottles were a luxury more rare than tape recorders. “Thank you, I will.”

They parked and walked through the market to a shop selling secondhand furniture. This was a semi-legal business. People were allowed to sell their own possessions, but it was against the law to be a middleman, which made the trade cumbersome and inefficient. To Dimka, the difficulties of imposing such Communist rules illustrated the practical necessity of many capitalist practices—hence the need for liberalization.

Max was a heavy man in his thirties dressed American style in blue jeans and a white T-shirt. He sat at a pine kitchen table drinking tea and smoking. He was surrounded by cheap used couches and cabinets and beds, mostly elderly and damaged. “What do you want?” he said brusquely.

“I spoke to you last Wednesday about a Grundig tape recorder,” said Natalya. “You said to come back in a week.”

“Tape recorders are difficult to get hold of,” he said.

Dimka intervened. “Don’t piss about, Max,” he said, making his voice as harsh and contemptuous as Max’s. “Have you got one or not?”

Men such as Max considered it a sign of weakness to give a direct answer to a simple question. He said: “You’ll have to pay in American dollars.”