The Smart Girl

She drew up a program of two obvious points. First, she had to find a good, promising job which she could devote herself to with enthusiasm. Second, get married and… yes, bear a child. Preferably, a girl, as her mama had wished.

The first point was not much of a problem – she only had to study the vacancy market and make the right choice. Nina knew her own value and was certain that she could find a good job whatever the competition.

It was not as easy with the second point. Here, she had no certitude at all. There were some men looming on the horizon – in the tennis club, and among relatives and acquaintances of her few friends. Some opportunities were probably going to turn up at her new job, too. Nina knew that she no longer was the ugly duckling that she had been in her school years – she had no reason to be shy or retiring now. She only needed to take care of herself in terms of clothes and the like. Also, she had to buy a car and learn how to drive.

Of course, all decent men were married, and those who were divorced were in no hurry to tie themselves up again – they would rather get what they wanted from a woman without giving her anything in return. But those were ordinary difficulties which single women had faced since the beginning of time – Nina was not afraid of them. Her methodical mind suggested that the main thing was to seize every opportunity to associate with worthy men. Unworthy men should be driven away with a stick, but for worthy ones, she should be an interesting, non-burdensome, and useful companion – someone they could talk to about work and about life, or go to bed with if it was mutually agreeable. She should behave like a woman, but without petty coquetry. Rather than posing as a touch-me-not, she should respect herself while respecting and valuing men, too. Then one of those worthy men would finally realize that he wanted to have her around always.

That was the theory, and Nina was prepared to put it into practice with the same persistency as she had used in mastering her profession. The problem was that, even realizing all that, she did not believe in any of it. Picturing her future in which she would be the wife of a worthy man that she was going to win through her strategy, she did not get any response from her inner self. The woman inside her maintained an indifferent silence. That woman had been silent for a long time already, as if waiting for something, and there was no knowing what it was.

Nina set about implementing her program. She had interviews in three firms and actually received one job offer which did not quite suit her, though.

Nina sized up her tennis partners and marked off two of them for showing some symptoms of being divorced. She assumed a friendlier attitude towards them and struck up an acquaintance.

All was going according to plan, everything was possible, but then her own biography went out of her control again. He father’s life, which meant her life, too, was run over by a steamroller named Gradbank.

Chapter 8

Nina first heard of Gradbank from Ignatiy Savelievich. One day, as they were having tea interchanging sad remarks about the bank’s management and their shady ways, Nina asked, “Tell me, Ignatiy Savelievich, are all banks like that today?”

The man replied, “Not at all,” and outlined the situation to Nina.

The banking sphere was undergoing a swift change which was not obvious to an outsider’s eye. Concentration of the banking capital was under way, and new leaders emerged which were supported by both the largest industrial groups and federal government. Small obscure banks were driven out of business by the dozen through absorption, suspension of license or sheer bankruptcy. The leader banks which headed that process were not spotless either, but still, they were of a different sort – for them, illegal operations were inevitable evil, while they were mainly aimed at legal business which in the final account proved more profitable than any shady dealings.

“Our nice little bank is doomed, too. It’s hardly going to be wiped out, though. It has some decent stuffing to it, so it’ll probably be swallowed and digested,” concluded Ignatiy Savelievich.

“What about the leader banks? What banks are those?” Nina asked, with thoughts of her own career at the back of her mind.

“Thinking of changing jobs?” responded the old man who was seeing through her. “And about time, too, dear. There’s no point in your rotting away here.”

He named a few promising banks to her and commented specially on Gradbank. “That bank has a very strong director. I don’t know him personally, but I’ve heard a lot about him.”

Shortly after, Nina heard the word ‘Gradbank’ again – this time, not as a meaningless sound, but as the name of a hostile and, as she was soon to find out, irresistible force.

Nina’s father received a phone call from Gradstroiinvest, a subsidiary of Gradbank. The caller told Yevgeniy Borisovich that they were interested in one of his projects and asked for a meeting. The project in question was not a success – it did not work out as expected and was a burden to the company – so Yevgeniy Borisovich would not mind sharing it with someone else.

A meeting was arranged at a regional industry fair where Gradstroiinvest had a booth. Nina was going to visit the fair herself, for her own reasons. When her father heard of that, he suddenly told her about the meeting and asked her to take part in it. “Since you’re going to be there anyway…” For once, after a long shut-off period, he was admitting her to his affairs; that made Nina happy even if his request did not mean anything and was just something that had slipped his tongue.

They were received by two men in their mid-thirties. One of them introduced himself as a vice-director of Gradstroiinvest while the other was presented as the company’s chief accountant. Yevgeniy Borisovich and Nina where invited into a cubicle of an office. Here, they were seated at a table, on chairs of metal tubes and plastic, and offered coffee. The table was shaky, the cups were of disposable kind, but the coffee was surprisingly good.

“I make it myself,” said the young vice-director who noticed Nina’s reaction. “I have a recipe of my own.”

Through the thin walls, the racket of the multi-voiced fair was coming, so they had to bend forward, head to head, like conspirators in order to hear each other.

They went on with the introductions. The vice-director’ name was Konstantin Ilyich.

“I’m still not comfortable with this patronymic thing,” he smiled pleasantly. “I’d rather be called Konstantin, or even just Kostya, but alas, I’ve got my status to think about…”

Nina’s father was looking intently at him.

“Excuse me, have we possibly met before?”

The young man laughed, “I was wondering whether you’d remember me or not. I used to work under you, Yevgeniy Borisovich. I came to your trust right after college. I only worked for one year, though…”

Nina’s father was excited and pleased. “Yes, that’s it, I remember! Who could have thought? Isn’t it a small world?”

Konstantin smiled politely but avoided plunging into recollections. Obviously, he was not going to waste his own or other people’s time.

Konstantin set about discussing the project and started with a very precise and essential question which showed that he had done his homework and possessed the necessary information. If the purpose of the question was to get Nina’s father talking, then it struck home. Yevgeniy Borisovich started answering it, then got carried away and went into expounding his views on the technology and management of such projects in general.

Konstantin and his accountant listened carefully. The accountant was keeping in the background, not uttering a word, while Konstantin was encouraging Yevgeniy Borisovich with brief, appropriate questions.

The young leaders of Gradstroiinvest made a good impression on Nina. She especially liked Konstantin – he was clearly smart and intelligent. He knew how to be polite without fawning and how to maintain his dignity without being rude.

Following her recently acquired habit, Nina rated him up as a man, and the rating was surprisingly high. But the same female view let her notice something strange – namely, that the vice-director was not taking any interest in her, Nina. There was none of that elementary, unconscious response which was bound to arise in a man confined in a narrow cubicle with a young woman.

“Can they be gay?” Nina thought, glancing at Konstantin and his colleague, and answered herself, “No, it’s not that.”

Nina did not consider herself a psychologist. She possessed a keen intuition, but it worked mainly in the area of finance rather than in human relations. Still, this time, the whole situation was suddenly crystal-clear to her. While he was listening politely to her father’s wordy discourse, pouring him coffee and throwing in appropriate questions, Konstantin was in fact completely focused and alert as a chess-player at the board or a boxer on the ring. He was probing his opponent, preparing to deal a blow.

Totally unaware of that, Nina’s father went on airing his views. Watching this disparity, Nina had a vague sensation of danger, though she had no idea where the danger could come from.

Nina’s father checked himself finally. “Look at me, chattering away so! You have some business to discuss with me, don’t you? Now, what’s that business about? I’m all attention. You don’t wish, by any chance, to participate in this project?” he let out his ulterior thought.

Konstantin and his accountant exchanged glances.

“We do,” Konstantin said after a brief pause. “We wish to participate in this project and all the rest of your projects.”

Nina’s father choked over a gulp of coffee. “Wh-what did you say? … How do you mean?”

Konstantin started to speak, still watching Nina’s father closely.

“Yevgeniy Borisovich, please forgive us for this little mystification. We just wanted to get to know you personally. An understandable desire considering that we are going to work together. You see, we intend to purchase your company, with all its projects.”

He spoke calmly, as if it were some routine, uncomplicated matter which was quite transparent to both sides. Nina’s father who had nearly spilled all his coffee over himself finally regained control of the cup, put it aside, and wiping himself with a handkerchief, tried to say something but Konstantin would not let him do that.

“You know that your industry is undergoing concentration,” Konstantin said and cited some examples of mergers and acquisitions that had taken place over the past year.

“Yes, but…” Nina’s father tried to object, but Konstantin would not be put off.

“The time of small, independent companies is passing,” he went on. “There are obvious advantages to concentration – access to financial resources, stronger bidding positions, wholesale supply of materials at attractive prices… You know all that perfectly well yourself. By joining our organization your company will flourish; it will reveal its strong sides while retaining a great deal of independence.”

As he spoke, Konstantin never took his eyes off the face of Nina’s father, clearly reading what was going on in the mind of the older man.

“You’re probably going to be concerned with the staff issue. We are ready to keep most of the company’s current employees – on your recommendation, Yevgeniy Borisovich. And, if you wish, you can remain director of the company. Of course, you will no longer have absolute power, but we’ll be only happy to rely on your expertise in technical matters. We value you highly as a specialist, believe me.”

He made a pause, but when Nina’s father opened his mouth to say something, Konstantin spoke again: “I nearly forgot. ‘Last but not least,’ as the British say. We’re not robbers, and we have intention to pocket your company for free. This is how much we are prepared to pay today.”

With these words, Konstantin took out a note-book and opened it at a page on which a sum had been written in advance. He showed the page to Nina’s father without letting the note-book out of his hand – not that Yevgeniy Borisovich was trying to get hold of it. Then Konstantin turned to Nina and showed the figure to her. Nina realized suddenly that the young manager was not at all ignoring her presence. What he was telling her father was meant for her ears as well. Apparently, Konstantin did not rely on the ability of the dumbfounded Yevgeniy Borisovich to take in his arguments and it suited him that there was somebody on the side of his former chief who was able to hear and memorize everything correctly.

Indignant and red in the face, Nina’s father finally got a chance to speak.

“All that is very nice,” he said, rising from the table. “But what does it have to do with me? Did I offer you to buy my business? I made no such offer – either to you or to anyone else. My company is not for sale. Do I make myself clear? And be so kind as not to bother me with this nonsense again!”

Those last words were completely unnecessary and came out badly – hysterically rather than wrathfully.

He moved out, and Nina followed. The young managers of Gradstroiinvest rose politely from their seats. Konstantin kept silent, not trying to argue with Yevgeniy Borisovich or keep him from leaving. He had a calm, content look of a man who had fulfilled his plan.

As her father, Nina was dumbfounded. But while he was shocked by the impertinent offer, she was amazed by something else. The sum. It was about one and a half times larger than the company was worth by her estimate.

Yevgeniy Borisovich drove her back from the fair in his car. It was already dark, a short winter day was over. Sparse snow-flakes were hitting against the wind-screen.

Nina’s father was furious. “How dare they! Impudent pups! And that fellow Konstantin – how could he? He’d worked with me, he should have known better. He should have known that I’m not that kind of man!”

“What kind of man? What are you raging about?” Nina replied in her mind as she was watching the street lights float by behind the gauze of snow. “If you want my opinion, I think Konstantin behaved in a correct, even noble way. He offered excellent terms, and certainly not because he is a dupe. It’s you, my dear papa, who behaved like a greenhorn,” she concluded and was frightened by her own thoughts – she had never, not even in her mind, talked to her father like that. For the first time in her life, her love for her father was mingled with irritation at his impracticality and absurd ambitions.

“Why don’t you say anything?” her father asked. “I hope you don’t think that I should sell the company just like that, off the cuff?”

“Yes, I think you should sell, it’s a great chance,” Nina wanted to say. “But not off the cuff. You should start negotiations and bargain with them. Since they offered such terms right away, they certainly can make some other concessions such as giving additional guarantees of your independence as director.”

Aloud, she uttered, “No, I was thinking of something else. Sorry.”

Her father said, “Wait till we’ve delivered our main project. Mind you, it’ll set us back on our feet. We shall see then!”

Yevgeniy Borisovich was referring to the project of reconstructing the heating main in a large built-up area. It was his favorite baby. As usual, once that project was mentioned, he went into explaining its technical details which Nina had heard more than once before.

“In just a couple of months we’ll get it officially accepted. Do you know what it means? It means – bingo! – we snatch the pot. Then we’ll see who buys whom!” Nina’s father thundered boastfully.

Nina could not listen to that any longer.

“Pull over,” she asked her father and told him some lie about having to drop in on a girl friend who lived close by.

“Give my best to Lydia Grigorievna,” she said, slamming the door.

During the next few weeks, she did not speak to her father or have any news from him, but she could not put the meeting at the fair out of her mind. Going over the details of the conversation with the managers of Gradstroiinvest, she concluded that the story had not ended at that – it was going to have a continuation.

A continuation soon followed in the form of a call from Lydia Grigorievna. The woman was calling Nina only very rarely – both of them were happy with the scarce contacts they had when Nina came to her father’s home to dinner or joined him and his wife for a night out in the theater. A call meant that something had happened.

Having barely said ‘hello’, Lydia Grigorievna cried out, “Nina, tell me, do you know anything?”

“About what?” inquired Nina.

“About your father. Did something happen to him again? He’s not himself – jumpy like hell all the time, working it off on me, explaining nothing. I’m at my wit’s end. I’m begging you: tell me – is he being threatened by some bandits again?”

Nina answered that she had not heard of any bandits – probably, there was nothing to it. Without mentioning the meeting at the fair, she promised Lydia Grigorievna to find out something, although she had no idea how she was going to do that.

She was aided by an accident, or rather, the calendar. A quarterly report arrived from her father’s company to the bank. Nina checked it carefully against the preceding one and found, to her surprise, that the company had given up a supplier with which it had done profitable business for a number of years. Also, the list of subcontractors no longer contained the name of a designer firm which Yevgeniy Borisovich had spoken highly of and relied on. That was odd, since, as Nina remembered clearly, her father had mentioned both the supplier and the designer firm quite recently.

Nina pondered over it and concluded that there was only one possible explanation. The ‘pups’ from Gradstroiinvest were not going to back off – they started putting pressure on her father by cutting him off from his partners. Nothing terrible had happened yet, neither was her father in any danger personally – after all, the managers of Gradstroiinvest were no gangsters – but somehow Nina felt sick at heart and depressed even worse than in the time of Misha Permyak.

Something had to be done, but what could she do? She had no one to talk it over with – not even Ignatiy Savelievich, her sole advisor, who was in hospital again.

Nina approached Kirill and suggested visiting the old specialist. It was all the more appropriate because the man was a widower. “Yes, right, you go visit him,” Kirill agreed eagerly. “I would go, too, but how can I? You can see for yourself what’s going on here.” There was nothing out of the ordinary going on in the bank – just the usual kind of absurdity and chaos.

In the hospital, Nina found her colleague bent over a chess-board – in his dressing-gown, sitting by a window that looked out on a park, Ignatiy Savelievich was doing a chess problem. It was a ward for two, but he was alone in it.

He was genuinely glad to see Nina. “My dear, what a pleasant surprise! Come here, let me give you a kiss.”

Ignatiy Savelievich pecked her on the cheek. He smelled of old age and drugs.

He waved away her inquiries about his health. “Everything’s all right with me. Everything is as it should be. Not a hair will fall from a man’s head without the will of the Almighty… Are you a believer, Ninochka?”

“No, I am not,” answered Nina honestly. She was not opposed to religion, but she had never experienced any need for it.

“I used to be an infidel, too,” said Ignatiy Savelievich. “But with years, one comes to understand certain things… You have no use for that kind of stuff, though – you’re so young yet. Let’s talk about something else. Tell me – how are things in our nest of financial depravity?”

Nina told him what news there was. Then they had some tea made by means of an illegal immersion heater, and even played a game of chess. As she sat down to play, Nina was thinking of a polite way to give away the game, but that was not necessary as Ignatiy Savelievich smashed her to pieces.

It was time to say goodbye. Nina had never brought up her problems – it seemed out of place in the atmosphere of the hospital. But as she was rising, Ignatiy Savelievich took her by the hand and made her sit down again.

“Nina, I’m an old man, of course, and there are lots of things that I don’t understand, but still, don’t you hold me for an idiot. You came to talk about something with me, didn’t you? Then go ahead, spit it out.”

Nina blushed. “No, I just…”

“Come on, dear, don’t tarry,” urged the old man. “I am due for treatment in twenty minutes.”

Nina braced herself and told Ignatiy Savelievich about her father and his situation – in brief, leaving out the details.

“So that’s whose company you saved from bankruptcy?” guessed Ignatiy Savelievich. “Now, isn’t your father a lucky man to have such a daughter…”

Nina knew that Ignatiy Savelievich had a son, but the old man had mentioned once that they had not been on speaking terms and had hardly been seeing each other.

“Ignatiy Savelievich, please, can you advise me on a way to get rid of that Gradstroiinvest pest?”

Ignatiy Savelievich shook his head, “Most likely, there is no way.” Seeing a dejected look on Nina’s face, he patted her hand but did not say anything to reassure her. “As far as I know Gradbank’s manner of doing business, they always get what they go after.”

He promised to make some inquiries and to think of some useful tips for Nina.

“I’m no longer in business, of course, but I do have a phone, and some of my connections are still there, so… I’ll see what I can do. And you, dear, are an angel for visiting an invalid. Come on, give me your pretty cheek.”

And he gave her another peck.

A week later Ignatiy Savelievich called Nina and asked her to visit him again – this time, at his home address rather than in the hospital from which he had been discharged. “Only, dear, excuse me, I won’t be inviting you in. My humble abode is in such neglect that I really can’t receive anybody. Let’s have a walk outside, if you don’t mind.”

They agreed to meet in the yard by his house. When Nina arrived, she found her colleague waiting for her on a bench, in a sheepskin and thick felt boots. The house was a solid brick affair, yellow-pinkish in color, located in a quiet side street in the city center. A quarter of a century ago, when Ignatiy Savelievich had been at the height of his career, apartments in such buildings had been given to the members of the top bureaucracy.

The weather was calm, with a temperature a little below zero, fuzzy flakes of snow falling quietly.

“Ah, here you are!” Ignatiy Savelievich cried out. “I’m glad you made it. A sly old man as I am, I’m going to exploit you. Give me your hand to lean on, dear, and we’ll have a walk. I’m not going out alone these days, you know, for fear of falling. You have no idea how many old people take a fall in the street in winter, and with nasty consequences, too. There are two such cases in my section of the house alone. That’s city for you – asphalt, icy walkways… Now, I remember that back in my home village – I’m a village boy, dear, – there were snow drifts as high as the roof in winter. You could fall all you liked…”

They crossed a street and went out to a frozen pond around which occasional mothers with prams were walking.

Nina could not wait to hear the news, but Ignatiy Savelievich asked her first to tell him about her problem again. It had not been Nina’s intention to go into details but little by little she told him everything – about Simonyan, Misha Permyak, and the debts of her father’s company.

Ignatiy Savelievich listened carefully.

“I see… You’ve really gone through a lot, dear,” he commented when she had spilled it all out. “To think of the things that girls have to deal with nowadays. One hell of a time, this is… And you did well, Nina, really, you did.” The old man looked at her with respect. “Well, now you listen to me.”

And he told her what he had found out.

Nina learned a lot about Gradstroiinvest. As it turned out, the business was actually run by Konstantin, while the director was a nominal figure representing the board of Gradbank. Over the past year, Gradstroiinvest had swallowed up three companies similar to that of Nina’s father. In each case, the terms were generous and, eventually, fulfilled to the letter, which was rather exceptional of deals like that. Thus, there was no reason to doubt the solvency or integrity of the Gradstroiinvest management.