Mummy, Come Home: The True Story of a Mother Kidnapped and Torn from Her Children

Anxiety and annoyance twisted my stomach. Sergey would be home soon and he’d scream at me if Pasha wasn’t quiet. His hatred of our son—and me—had only got worse in the weeks since the night he’d cut me. I hadn’t gone to hospital after the fight and the cut had left a thin, white scar snaking across my back.

All I could do was live in the shadows, hoping not to anger Sergey again because I couldn’t run. Day after day Sergey asked if I loved him and stayed close to me to make sure I didn’t try to leave again. I wasn’t going to. Once I’d had my father, now there was no one, so where could I run? Sergey had shown what he could do and I felt more powerless than ever. All I could do was trust that one day things would change.

As I picked up Pasha once again, I thought of what the doctor had said all those weeks ago. We were due to see him again soon and my son hadn’t got any better however much I’d tried to coax milk into him. The more I thought about the orphanage, the more I wondered if it might be right to put him there. My neighbour Janna who gave me food sometimes when I had none, the doctor and Mamma all told me it would be right, that the baby could be cared for properly there. Everyone said the same thing and I knew deep down what I had to do. I would put Pasha into the orphanage for six months to give me enough time to find a job and someone to look after Sasha while I worked. Then Pasha would be well enough to come home.

Sergey was so pleased when I told him later that night.

‘At last you’ve seen sense,’ he said with a smile.

It might be the right decision but I was seized by sadness as I packed Pasha’s few clothes into a bag the next day. Would he ever forgive me? I had never really learned how to love him properly and now I was sending him away.

‘He’ll have the operation he needs,’ the orphanage director told me the next day as she took him. ‘We’ll feed him up and make him strong.’

‘But when can I see him?’ I asked.

‘Whenever you want but most parents visit at weekends.’

‘Then that’s what I’ll do.’

Pasha looked so old as he stared at me. He was such a serious baby who hardly ever smiled.

‘Shall I take him?’ the director said and moved towards me.

A pain leapt up in my chest as his weight was lifted from my arms.

‘It’s for the best,’ I told myself as I started crying. ‘You’ll improve your life, make it better for the children and then he’ll come home. You have no other choice. You have to do this to keep him safe and well.’

Sergey took my arm as the door closed.

‘What’s wrong?’ he asked roughly. ‘I’m glad he’s gone. Now let’s go.’

I didn’t say a word as we walked outside and I held tightly onto Sasha’s hand. I had given my baby away to strangers, failed him just as I had from the moment I knew I was having him, and I felt sick inside.

‘May God forgive me,’ I said silently to myself.

Chapter Six (#ufa4a3453-0c84-5275-a7b4-23fcfcc44ac9)

Soon after Pasha left I got a job in a café through a new friend. Her name was Marina and she lived on the same street as us. She was seventeen, tall and slim with long black hair and beautiful eyes but most of all she was kind. Marina could see how hungry I was and fed me whenever I went to visit her at her parents’ home. I was so happy to have a friend. A lot of people didn’t want to know me because of Sergey but Marina didn’t care. I’d felt so old and tired but with her I could almost feel like a real teenager again.

Soon we had started working in the café together, a place owned by a Muslim man called Aziz. At first Sergey hadn’t been at all happy about it, but he changed his mind when he heard about the $3 I would be making every day. My shifts lasted twelve to fourteen hours, so now I could put food on the table. One day, I hoped, I would save enough tips to rent my own room and leave with Sasha.

Sergey looked after Sasha during the day but one night he decided to come and pick me up and, as he waited outside, saw me joking with Aziz. He quickly flew into a jealous rage.

‘Why were you kissing that man? Are you fucking him?’ he shouted as we walked home.

‘You know I’m not and I didn’t kiss him,’ I replied.

‘Yes, you did and now I know why you don’t want to have sex with me anymore.’

‘Oh, come on,’ I said wearily. ‘I’m just tired.’

Sergey slapped my cheek. ‘Don’t lie to me,’ he said.

‘Why are you doing this?’ I started to cry. ‘I promise you that I haven’t done anything wrong. You know I’d never cheat on you.’

‘No, I don’t,’ he shouted. ‘And today is your last day at work. You can’t go back.’

I didn’t argue with him as we walked back to the summer kitchen and got into bed. But when I woke the next morning, I got up to dress for work as usual and put some money on the table before leaving. Sergey would realise he was better off if I worked when he saw it.

Marina was waiting for me outside as I closed the door and it was quiet as we started walking. But yells suddenly filled the air and I turned around to see Sergey running towards us.

‘You fucking bitch,’ he shouted. ‘I told you that you couldn’t go back to that place. What the fuck are you doing?’

Marina looked so confused. I’d never told her the truth about Sergey. I didn’t talk to anyone about it and, although she’d been shocked when she saw how we lived in the summer kitchen, she had no idea how things really were.

‘Let’s go,’ I said as I started running. We managed to stay ahead of him for a while but as we reached the road, Sergey caught me. Blows flew into my body as I fell to the ground.

‘Why didn’t you listen?’ he screamed. ‘I meant what I said, you know. Fucking bitch!’

A fist smashed into my stomach. ‘Please help me,’ I cried to Marina, but she was scared and didn’t know how to stop Sergey as he ripped at my clothes. ‘Why are you doing this?’ I screamed at him. ‘We need the money. I can’t just leave my job.’

‘Whore! You’re doing all those Muslims and now you don’t want me.’

‘What are you saying?’ Marina suddenly shouted. ‘It’s not true. Stop this. Leave her alone.’

Sergey said nothing but the punches stopped as suddenly as they’d begun and I looked up to see a car parked beside us. Two customers I knew from the café were getting out as Sergey walked quickly away. I lay on the ground and pulled my cardigan around me, trying to hide my underwear as I sobbed.

The customers were kind and helped me up. I managed to put my dress back on and hold the rips together until I could pin them at the café. My eye had started to blacken by the time Aziz arrived and Marina told him what had happened.

‘Is he crazy?’ Aziz asked when she’d finished.

I said nothing. All I could think about was going home later. I was so scared. What would Sergey do to me this time? I knew what he was capable of—a belt, a knife, he didn’t care what he used to hurt me. But, however much I wanted to run, I couldn’t leave Sasha.

Later that evening, I stood outside the door to the summer kitchen and held my breath. I’d been standing there for a few minutes trying to make my hand reach out and turn the handle. I knew I couldn’t fight back if Sergey beat me. I’d tried in the past and look what had happened. I was weak and he was strong—I’d never win.

But the summer kitchen was in darkness when I finally opened the door. Maybe my neighbour Janna would know where Sergey and Sasha were. She made vodka and so Sergey often went to see her.

‘Oxana,’ she exclaimed when she opened the door.

‘Do you know where Sergey is?’ I asked. ‘He’s not at home and I want to find Sasha.’

‘The baby is here with me. But don’t you know what’s happened?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Sergey is in hospital.’

‘What?’