Gennady shook his head, and there was something doomed in the gesture.
— No. I was going to leave.
— Leave? Where?
— To Turkey. I have a ticket for a morning flight tomorrow. I have a visa, an apartment rented for six months in Antalya.
Valentina felt the ground give way beneath her. She leaned against the wall and slowly sank to the floor, hugging her knees to her chest.
— You were going to leave me, — she whispered. — You wanted to take my money and run away. Leave me here all alone.
— I had no other choice, — pleading notes appeared in Gennady’s voice. — Valya, they would have crippled me. Do you understand? I had to disappear. And I had no money. Only yours.
— And so you decided…
— I thought you wouldn’t notice right away. That you still have your pension, the apartment, our daughter would help. And I would have found some job there, and after a year, I would have started sending money.
— After a year? — She looked up at him, and there was so much pain in her gaze that he looked away. — You thought that after a year you would start sending money? After robbing and abandoning me?
— I didn’t want it to be this way, — he ran his hands over his face, and she saw that he was crying. — I swear, I didn’t want this. But I backed myself into a corner. I didn’t know how to get out. These people don’t joke, Valya. They’ve already come to my work, threatened me. Showed me pictures of Irina, of our grandson. They said if I don’t pay back the money, they’ll get to my family.
— You’re lying, — Valentina shook her head. — You were just saving your own skin. You didn’t care about me, or our daughter, or our grandson. You only thought about yourself.
— No. I thought that if I disappeared, they would leave you alone. They want me, not you.
— That’s enough, — the female police officer raised her hand. — Citizen Volkov, do you understand that you have confessed to attempted theft? On a particularly large scale? And to planning to flee the country?
Gennady nodded, still staring at the floor.
— I understand.
— You’ll have to come with us to the station.
— Wait, — Valentina got to her feet, holding onto the wall. — What about those people?
— The creditors?
— He said they threatened our daughter, our grandson.
— We will pass this information to the relevant department. If the threats were real, a case will be opened. But that will take time.
— And in the meantime?
— In the meantime, they might come here. Or to your daughter’s. — The woman paused, then said: — We can arrange surveillance. But it would be best for you to warn your daughter, ask her to be careful. Maybe go somewhere for a while.
Valentina nodded, feeling her lips go numb. This was all like a bad dream. An hour ago, she was lying in bed, thinking the worst thing was her husband’s strange behavior. And now he was standing in the hallway surrounded by police, confessing to debts, to plans of escape, to threats from creditors.
— I need to call my daughter, — she said.
— Go ahead. We’ll draw up the report in the meantime.
Valentina went into the living room, closed the door, and sank onto the sofa. She picked up the phone with shaking hands and found Irina’s number. She looked at the clock: half-past two in the morning. Her daughter was asleep. How could she tell her? Where should she start? She pressed the call button. Long rings, then her daughter’s sleepy voice.
— Mom? What happened? Why are you calling in the middle of the night?
— Irina, sweetie, — Valentina’s voice trembled. — Something’s… happened here. Don’t be scared, I’m alright, but we need to talk.
— Mom, you’re scaring me. What happened?
— It’s your father.
— Him? My God, how do I say this?
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