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     Chapter One

“Put him down!”

Yulia wrenched back Zory’s arms to release her brother.

“If you do that one more time, I’m going to connect my fist with your face and you’re not going to like that!”

“Oooh, fighting talk from the girly,” said Zory.

“My brother must be really important for you to give him so much attention,” said Yulia, grabbing Dmitri by the hand and pulling him with her as she stormed off to the other side of the playground.

“Can’t you stick up for yourself?” she said to Dmitri when they were out of earshot.

“He’s bigger than me,” whined Dmitri.

“He’s bigger than me too. In fact, you’re bigger than me, Dmitri, you’ve got to toughen up.”

Dmitri Molchalin was not a strong-looking boy at the age of eleven, but neither was his twin sister. The difference in strength between the two was mental rather than physical. It had begun when their mother died six years earlier and Yulia took on the maternal role.

It was Yulia who prepared the meals, cleaned the house and washed the clothes. Yulia coaxed Dmitri to do his homework, get to bed on time and join the chess club.

“If you don’t want to join in with the sports clubs, at least use your brain,” she’d told him, aged ten. “You need to mix with the other kids.”

Their father, Horik, hadn’t coped well as a single parent and it wasn’t long before his mother, the children’s grandmother to come to live with them.

​

Anastasia Molchalin was a towering and formidable woman who had brought up her own son with a terrifying system of discipline and punishments. Horik hadn’t wanted his mother to help out but, as usual, it wasn’t his choice.

“You are totally useless, Horik,” said Anastasia as she swept into his house with three suitcases. “You will thank me for taking control of those unruly children.”

Most children in Russia called their grandmother Babushka, but Anastasia insisted on being called Grandmama by Yulia and Dmitri.

“My great grandfather was English, you know,” she said. “The name Grandmama demands respect. And that’s what I require from you. Respect.”

​

Dmitri was scared of Grandmama, just as his father was, but Yulia simply despised her. She felt she’d managed perfectly well running the house. Her father hadn’t been in the way at all because he was rarely at home, but her grandmother’s presence made for a very tense atmosphere.

Grandmama had never liked children, but she did enjoy seeing them cower under her magnificence. For a time, she had been rich, having inherited a large sum of money from the English great grandfather, however her late husband had squandered all her money on gambling and drink, which perhaps explained Anastasia’s general dislike of men. She had spent a fair amount of money herself during their brief marriage on expensive clothing, and although she had recently been forced to sell many of her extravagant garments, she’d held onto enough to ensure that she always looked as though she was well-to-do, even if she was almost penniless.

​

Horik worked on a construction site which sometimes paid in goods rather than money. At the end of the month, he might be given a pile of floor tiles or a spare door which he would then sell on. On other occasions he would be paid in bottles of vodka. Horik made just enough money to feed his family by selling the building materials, but he always kept the vodka for Saturday.

Grandmama left the house every Saturday morning early and didn’t return until late into the evening. Yulia and Dmitri never knew where she went, nor did they care, they were just happy to have her out of the way.

​

On these days Horik would emerge from his room around mid-morning and take up his place in front of the TV, his vodka bottles lined up on a small wooden table next to him. He would usually have the sport channel playing, but he didn’t care much as he systematically worked his way through the bottles until his children dragged him to bed in the evening.

​

Saturday was Yulia’s favourite day, so it was Dmitri’s favourite too. Their first task was always to find Grandmama’s chocolate stash. Grandmama always had a supply of luxury chocolate which strangely appeared every Sunday afternoon.

“I bet she steals it,” Dmitri suggested.

“Do you think so?” said Yulia. “I think she dresses up to look like she’s rich and goes to sit in a tearoom in Smolensk. Then she seeks out some wealthy-looking gentleman and asks him to join her. I bet they spend the day together and she acts like she’s all charming and then he pays for lots of stuff including chocolates. I reckon that’s more Grandmama’s style.”

Because Dmitri obeyed Grandmama, he would be given a chocolate. Yulia never obeyed Grandmama and was made to sit at the table opposite Dmitri while he ate. Grandmama made him describe the flavours and eat slowly so as to torment Yulia.

Yulia didn’t mind at all. She looked forward to the following Saturday when she and Dmitri would spend up to an hour looking for the secret stash and devouring anything Grandmama hadn’t eaten. Sometimes this wasn’t much, but it could be up to half a box. They could never understand why Grandmama didn’t make a fuss about it when she found the chocolates had gone.

​

Saturday afternoons were spent mooching around Smolensk, often by the lake in Lopatinski gardens pretending to be spies or valiant horsemen leading their troops into battle. The rubbish bins in the park often contained interesting props for their games. A broken umbrella became a war ship, empty fast-food boxes became roller skates and once somebody left a wheelchair next to a bench with a note saying,

“No longer needed, please take.”

They had the best afternoon that Saturday, taking it in turns to sit in the chair and to push it, charging up and down the paths hollering war cries. Eventually the park keeper came out to stop them, but that was a good day.

One Saturday Dmitri pulled a large book out of one of the bins in the park. Engineering Made Simple, it said on the front cover in big yellow letters. Dmitri was about to throw it back in the bin, but Yulia took the book and read aloud the words on the back.

“'Learn what it means to be an engineer, understand the laws scientists use to push the limits of speed and safety, and discover a past—and anticipate a future—of amazing machines and constructions.'

“This is it!” she said. “We, the Molchalin Twins are no longer pirates, kings or undercover agents; we are engineers! We will make the name ‘Molchalin’ great!”

From that day, Saturdays became different as Yulia and Dmitri pored over the book and tested different theories. It took months to make a bottle boat, an elastic-band-driven car and a remote-controlled snake which would never work until they found a battery. Every project began and ended with the same mantra: “We will make the name Molchalin great!”

***

One Sunday evening Grandmama had a visitor. A gruff-sounding man arrived and was escorted to the living room. The door was shut and no matter how hard the twins pressed their ears against it, they couldn’t hear what was being said. The following morning was Monday, and Dmitri was vaguely aware of Yulia getting up early. Having dressed, he went to the kitchen for a slice of bread to eat on his way to school and found Yulia crying uncontrollably with Grandmama standing over her looking stern.

“Your sister isn’t well,” she said. “You’ll have to go to school alone today.”

Dmitri went over to his sister and held her shoulders. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m not well,” said Yulia. “Go to school and Dmitri?”

“Yes?”

“Don’t let Zory bully you.”

“I won’t.”

“And don’t forget to make the name ‘Molchalin’ great.”

***

Dmitri never saw Yulia again. She had disappeared by the time he got home from school and his grandmother wouldn’t tell him why or where she’d gone.

“Yulia won’t be coming home,” she said. “There’ll be more food for us all now.”

Dmitri begged her to let him see her or just let him know that Yulia was safe, but Grandmama ignored him. Horik, if he even knew where his daughter had gone, was too scared of his mother to speak on the subject.

At school, Dmitri became fierce; lashing out at Zory whenever he came near until finally the bully moved to a less feisty victim. Dmitri carried Engineering Made Simple with him at all times, as though it was his link to Yulia. He found a weekend job in an engineering factory in Smolensk and started saving money. He would earn enough to find Yulia; hire a private detective if necessary.

But above all he would make the name ‘Molchalin’ great.

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     Chapter Two

By the time he was fourteen, Dmitri Molchalin had grown tall and wiry, though he still wasn’t the athletic young man his sister had always hoped he’d become. With the knowledge he’d gleaned from Engineering Made Simple, he was quickly recognised as having potential at the small, local repair workshop where he worked after school and during the long summer breaks. His earnings weren’t much, but he saved every Kopek, refusing to spend a single coin on himself.

​

On the evening he was going to announce to his grandmother that he was finally leaving to look for Yulia, he was greeted at the front door of his home by two police officers.

“Come inside,” they said. “We’re sorry to have to bring you some bad news.”

Horik had been working at the construction site that afternoon as usual. He had taken the crane lift to the roof girders with his team. The workers attached themselves to the safety ropes, but Horik had stepped out onto one of the metal beams just as a heavy load swung loose.

“It was a terrible accident,” the policeman said. “We’re sorry to tell you that he died instantly.”

Dmitri was sad about his father, but the feeling was small and hollow. His father had never shown him any interest, never shown any love, and he’d allowed Yulia to be taken away. Dmitri felt an overwhelming surge of guilt; he hadn't even had the chance to say goodbye.

He left that same evening. He wasn’t going to stay in the house with his grandmother for one more night. He gathered up a small bag of clothes and all his saved money, which he’d hidden under the loose floorboard in his room.

​

For the next two summers, Dmitri searched for Yulia. He decided to go first to Moscow, using the capital city as a base, but the city was vast, and nobody had heard the name Yulia Molchalin. He worked his way around some of Moscow’s outer regions, cities such as Podolsk, Krasnogorsk, and Elektrostal. At one point he found himself staring through the gates of the prestigious residential area of Rublevka, the home of the rich and famous.

“This is where we’re going to live, Yulia,” he whispered aloud to the tall gates. “This is where we’ll live when we have made the name ‘Molchalin’ great!”

​

But after two long summers, there was no sign of Yulia, and there was no more money left for travel. Dmitri decided to go home, return to his studies, and try to get his old job back to start saving for his next, wider search for Yulia.

His grandmother showed no emotion at his return. She had become thinner and frailer but was still just as cold and aloof as ever.

The repair workshop was happy to give Dmitri his job back but, of course, he had to move down a few levels because his old spot had been taken by a new, older apprentice whose name was Zory.

Dmitri was annoyed that his old school rival had elbowed in, but he was no longer fearful of the boy who had once bullied him. He met Zory in the workshop canteen.

“Don’t even think about trying to get your old job back,” Zory sneered.

“Why, are you worried because I’m so obviously better suited to the position?”

“Not worried at all. But just in case you get any ideas, I know what happened to your dad.”

Dmitri stalled, but he didn’t have to wait long to discover that Zory knew a devastating half-truth.

“My dad works in management at the site,” Zory whispered, leaning in close. “He said your dad was messing around, distracted. He said it was your dad’s fault the hoist cables snapped. If I think you’re trying to push me out, I’ll tell everyone how your father cost the company a fortune.”

​

Dmitri couldn’t afford to lose the job, so he continued to work under Zory for another year, until something happened which changed his life’s direction again.

Just before his seventeenth birthday, Grandmama caught a bad fever. She lay in bed looking paler and thinner but wouldn’t allow Dmitri to call the doctor.

“Dmitri, I have something to say to you,” she rasped one evening when he arrived home from work.

“Tell me where I can find Yulia,” said Dmitri. “Please tell me.”

His grandmother spoke in a weak whisper, her head leaning back against the pillows, her eyes shut.

“I sent Yulia away for many reasons,” she said. “Yulia was rude and disobedient. And your father couldn’t afford to keep you both. I decided to keep you, but I made the wrong choice. I should have kept Yulia.”

Dmitri couldn’t speak. He sat listening to his grandmother’s final, bitter words.

“You can stop looking for Yulia,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “She… she died six years ago.”

Grandmama stopped breathing.

Dmitri shook his grandmother. Surely Yulia wasn’t dead? It couldn’t be true!

“You’re lying,” he shouted at the frail body. “Why couldn’t you at least have told me where you sent her?”

When he finally understood that his grandmother would never tell him the truth, he sat on the end of the bed for the rest of the night, not crying, not even thinking, just repeating Yulia’s final words over and over:

“Don’t forget to make the name ‘Molchalin’ great.”

By the time he had reached his eighteenth birthday, Dmitri had saved enough money to leave the repair workshop and start his own, secret engineering project. He was now truly alone, consumed by the burning lie his grandmother had left him with. He carried the mantra with him always, believing that if he could just become great enough, he would somehow find the power to uncover the truth and find his sister.

 

THE END

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What does the future hold for Dmitri Molchalin?

Will he ever make the name 'Molchalin' great?

Find out in the thrilling "It's Raining in Moscow and I Forgot my Umbrella"

and continues in "If I Got Fifty Quid I Could Rescue My Dad"