He suppressed his rage. They had all been cheated by the Vyalov family, or the ship’s captain-or both, most probably, since it would be easier to work the scam between them. All Grigori’s hard-earned money had been stolen by those lying pigs. If he could have got the captain of the Angel Gabriel by the throat, he would have squeezed the life out of the man, and laughed when he died.
But there was no point in dreams of vengeance. The thing was not to give in. He would find a job, learn to speak English, and get into a high-stakes card game. It would take time. He would have to be patient. He must learn to be a bit more like Grigori.
That first night they all slept on the floor of the synagogue. Lev tagged along with the rest. The Cardiff Jews did not know, or perhaps did not care, that some of the passengers were Christian.
For the first time in his life he saw the advantage of being Jewish. In Russia Jews were so persecuted that Lev had always wondered why more of them did not abandon their religion, change their clothes, and mix in with everyone else. It would have saved a lot of lives. But now he realized that, as a Jew, you could go anywhere in the world and always find someone to treat you like family.
It turned out that this was not the first group of Russian immigrants to buy tickets to New York and end up somewhere else. It had happened before, in Cardiff and other British ports; and, as so many Russian migrants were Jewish, the elders of the synagogue had a routine. Next day the stranded travelers were given a hot breakfast and got their money changed to British pounds, shillings, and pence, then they were taken to boardinghouses where they were able to rent cheap rooms.
Like every city in the world, Cardiff had thousands of stables. Lev studied enough words to say he was an experienced worker with horses, then went around the city asking for a job. It did not take people long to see that he was good with the animals, but even well-disposed employers wanted to ask a few questions, and he could not understand or answer.
In desperation he learned more rapidly, and after a few days he could understand prices and ask for bread or beer. However, employers were asking complicated questions, presumably about where he had worked before and whether he had ever been in trouble with the police.
He returned to the seamen’s mission and explained his problem to the Russian in the little office. He was given an address in Butetown, the neighborhood nearest the docks, and told to ask for Filip Kowal, pronounced “cole,” known as Kowal the Pole. Kowal turned out to be a ganger who hired out foreign labor cheap and spoke a smattering of most European languages. He told Lev to be on the forecourt of the city’s main railway station, with his suitcase, on the following Monday morning at ten o’clock.
Lev was so glad that he did not even ask what the job was.
He showed up along with a couple of hundred men, mostly Russian, but including Germans, Poles, Slavs, and one dark-skinned African. He was pleased to see Spirya and Yakov there too.
They were herded onto a train, their tickets paid for by Kowal, and they steamed north through pretty mountain country. Between the green hillsides, the industrial towns lay pooled like dark water in the valleys. A feature of every town was at least one tower with a pair of giant wheels on top, and Lev learned that the main business of the region was coal mining. Several of the men with him were miners; some had other crafts such as metalworking; and many were unskilled laborers.
After an hour they got off the train. As they filed out of the station Lev realized this was no ordinary job. A crowd of several hundred men, all dressed in the caps and rough clothes of workers, stood waiting for them in the square. At first the men were ominously silent, then one of them shouted something, and the others quickly joined in. Lev had no idea what they were saying but there was no doubt it was hostile. There were also twenty or thirty policemen present, standing at the front of the crowd, keeping the men behind an imaginary line.
Spirya said in a frightened voice: “Who are these people?”
Lev said: “Short, muscular men with hard faces and clean hands-I’d say they are coal miners on strike.”
“They look as if they want to kill us. What the hell is going on?”
“We’re strikebreakers,” Lev said grimly.
“God save us.”
Kowal the Pole shouted: “Follow me!” in several languages, and they all marched up the main street. The crowd continued to shout, and men shook their fists, but no one broke the line. Lev had never before felt grateful to policemen. “This is awful,” he said.
Yakov said: “Now you know what it’s like to be a Jew.”
They left the shouting miners behind and walked uphill through streets of row houses. Lev noticed that many of the houses appeared empty. People still stared as they went by, but the insults stopped. Kowal started to allocate houses to the men. Lev and Spirya were astonished to be given a house to themselves. Before leaving, Kowal pointed out the pithead-the tower with twin wheels-and told them to be there tomorrow morning at six. Those who were miners would be digging coal, the others would be maintaining tunnels and equipment or, in Lev’s case, looking after ponies.
Lev looked around his new home. It was no palace, but it was clean and dry. It had one big room downstairs and two up-a bedroom for each of them! Lev had never had a room to himself. There was no furniture, but they were used to sleeping on the floor, and in June they did not even need blankets.
Lev had no wish to leave, but eventually they became hungry. There was no food in the house so, reluctantly, they went out to get their dinner. With trepidation they entered the first pub they came to, but the dozen or so customers glared angrily at them, and when Lev said in English: “Two pints of half-and-half, please,” the bartender ignored him.
They walked downhill into the town center and found a cafe. Here at least the clientele did not appear to be spoiling for a fight. But they sat at a table for half an hour and watched the waitress serve everyone who came in after them. Then they left.
It was going to be difficult living here, Lev suspected. But it would not be for long. As soon as he had enough money he would go to America. Nevertheless, while he was here he had to eat.
They went into a bakery. This time Lev was determined to get what he wanted. He pointed to a rack of loaves and said in English: “One bread, please.”
The baker pretended not to understand.
Lev reached across the counter and grabbed the loaf he wanted. Now, he thought, let him try to take it back.
“Hey!” cried the baker, but he stayed his side of the counter.
Lev smiled and said: “How much, please?”
“Penny farthing,” the baker said sulkily.
Lev put the coins on the counter. “Thank you very much,” he said.
He broke the loaf and gave half to Spirya, then they walked down the street eating. They came to the railway station, but the crowd had dispersed. On the forecourt, a news vendor was calling his wares. His papers were selling fast, and Lev wondered if something important had happened.
A large car came along the road, going fast, and they had to jump out of the way. Looking at the passenger in the back, Lev was astonished to recognize Princess Bea.
“Good God!” he said. In a flash, he was transported back to Bulovnir, and the nightmare sight of his father dying on the gallows while this woman looked on. The terror he had felt then was unlike anything he had ever known. Nothing would ever scare him like that, not street fights nor policemen’s nightsticks nor guns pointed at him.
The car pulled up at the station entrance. Hatred, disgust, and nausea overwhelmed Lev as Princess Bea got out. The bread in his mouth seemed like gravel and he spat it out.
Spirya said: “What’s the matter?”
Lev pulled himself together. “That woman is a Russian princess,” he said. “She had my father hanged fourteen years ago.”
“Bitch. What on earth is she doing here?”
“She married an English lord. They must live nearby. Perhaps it’s his coal mine.”
The chauffeur and a maid busied themselves with luggage. Lev heard Bea speak to the maid in Russian, and the maid replied in the same tongue. They all went into the station, then the maid came back out and bought a newspaper.
Lev approached her. Taking off his cap, he gave a deep bow and said in Russian: “You must be the princess
