A sleepy Tykhon in rabbit slippers shuffled in followed by an equally sleepy cat. Andrei lifted the boy into his high chair, boiled him an egg and poured out a glass of milk. Tykhon clasped it with both hands and swigged it down in one go, leaving a little behind for the cat, which he poured into its bowl. The cat gratefully rubbed against his chair. After breakfast, they got dressed in the hallway, quietly so as not to wake Maria. Through an open door, they saw Maria wrapped in the sheets, lying with her back to them. Andrei didn’t know if her eyes were open or shut, whether she was lost in dreams or studying the reflection of the morning sun in the windows opposite. He didn’t want to rouse her. These moments always seemed to him filled with a light and fragile beauty. Like the day he asked her to marry him.

Chapter 23

When Maria woke up, she felt an overwhelming sense of loneliness. She didn’t want to get up. The alarm had interrupted a dream she had not wanted to end. Turning onto her side, she watched the white rippling of the pillow fabric under the sluggish movement of her hand. She blinked at the annoyingly bright light outside. Andrei had parted the curtains as always. He gets up so easily. Clumps his bare feet down on the parquet floor and dashes into the shower. Noise, singing. He had as usual probably left a large puddle of water and not bothered to clean it up.

Maria pulled the covers over her head, trying to put off the moment she’d finally have to get out of bed. The alarm broke through the silence. Her hand darted out to press the little screen and set snooze for another five minutes. And again. And again.

“Byeee, Mum,” said Tykhon, sticking his head through the door.

“Rise and shine sleepyhead,” shouted Andrei. “You’re going to sleep all your way through life!”

Maria again stuck her hand out from under the covers and waved without turning toward them.

The door slammed shut and the flat fell silent. She dug her fingernails into her palms, stretched and showered sleepy curses on the slowly sharpening world for the brevity of the night. She flopped onto her back and looked at the ceiling. Her night-time tormentors—confusion and fatigue—lay in wait under the bed for her to completely throw off her sleep, ready to begin a new day’s labour with renewed energy.