 LARISSA By James MACKINTOSH |
One cold, late November day Deneil got a call from a friend, Michael. Michael was American, Harvard-educated, bright and a native New Yorker from a family of Eastern European, Jewish origin. He had been living in Kiev for some years working first as Country manager and then Regional manager for an international advertising business. He was a tall, gangling, fit man in his mid-thirties with sensitive, green eyes. Deneil had met Michael at an American Chamber of Commerce event some eighteen months earlier and asked Michael what he was doing after the event. Michael had replied with a disarming, self-confident frankness- 'having dinner with you' and from that moment onwards a friendship was born between them.
Now Michael sounded somewhat distracted on the phone. 'Deneil, lets have a drink. I have something I need to discuss with you.'
'How about the Cowboy Bar,' Deneil responded immediately. He knew Michael's office was on Gorodetskaya, just round the corner from the bar.
'OK, after work - say six thirty.'
As Deneil walked down Khreschatyk towards his rendezvous in the Cowboy Bar it started snowing. Looking up into the night sky he could see the air was all speckled with snowflakes floating around lazily and still more lazily falling to the rapidly whitening ground. The snowflakes settled thickly on him, coating his hair, eyebrows and eyelashes so he had to continually wipe the melting snow from his face. The snow crunched softly under his feet and muffled the normal busy roar of the boulevard traffic. Even the massive, imposing Stalinesque blocks appeared softened and more beautiful in the mass of swirling snowflakes. As he ascended the steps through the archway into Lutheranskaya, Deneil felt a kind of spasm of joy at witnessing this first snow of the winter.
Michael was waiting for him in the Cowboy Bar. It was still fairly early in the evening and the crowds had not come in. There were just one or two rather attractive girls perched on bar stools at the far end of the bar. Michael and Deneil sat in an alcove so they could not be overheard.
'Deneil, I'd like your opinion on something,' Michael said without preamble. Deneil was one of those people who somehow encouraged you to talk openly. He wasn't judgmental and he was obviously tolerant of human weaknesses in others as he hoped people would be tolerant of his own.
'To do with the fairer sex, I imagine?' Deneil said.
'Sort of. It's a long story but in a nutshell I am in a serious conflict situation with Larissa. You remember her? We made her the manager of our business here.'
Deneil had met Larissa and found her both charming and attractive. She was one of those strong, local girls who impressed you by their resourcefulness, intelligence and capacity for hard work, especially when you considered the communist indoctrination they had been subjected to in their teens. 'Without Larissa, Michael's business in the city would not do half as well,' Deneil thought.
'Why,' he asked? 'You and she seemed to have such a harmonious working relationship. I was even a bit envious of how comfortable your set-up was.'
'I know,' Michael said dejectedly. 'Somehow it all turned sour.' 'Start from the beginning,' Deneil suggested and settled back into his seat.
***
Michael had arrived in Kiev in the autumn of 1997. Larissa had already been recruited by the company and was working on a pittance from a shoddy, one-room office on Pushkinskaya. By the end of November the temperature was down to minus twenty and at about four o'clock every afternoon the lights would go off as the country desperately rationed electricity to get through the winter. Michael and Larissa continued to work together by candlelight and an old dial up telephone, which didn't require electricity. Client meetings were conducted by the romantic glow of candlelight until the cold drove them out of the office. Michael smiled at the memory.
'Ah, the glorious, early days,' commented Deneil.
Soon after he arrived they moved to a much larger office and started recruiting staff. They were required to send all their profits to head office and allowed to invest only a minimum but somehow Michael and Larissa found a way to expand at almost no cost. And their business started making money. For Larissa, it was something entirely new. Until now she had made do on a miserably low salary. It was the first time in her life she was offered a clear financial incentive. Michael linked her pay to her performance and she began to work harder and more intelligently, started receiving more money and this in turn made her more motivated. She was the perfect person to manage. When Michael was depressed with the business environment she cheered him up and when she was down he was able to make her laugh. He was delighted with her because she was responsible and hard working and he was more than a little captivated because she was beautiful and intelligent. For her part Larissa seemed to take a proprietary interest in Michael.
In the springtime, when he took the train on his first trip to Yalta, she accompanied him to the train station, found his carriage and gave him all sorts of advice. 'Michael, don't drink the water. Don't talk to strangers. Beware of beautiful women. Buy fruit but don't buy meat from the platform vendors. Be careful of the sun. It's deceptively strong in Crimea even at this time of the year.' Somehow they seemed to be able to joke together constantly and were always laughing in each other's company. Everyone thought of them as Michael and Larissa, a co-existing unit, as one does with couples obviously suited to each other. Together they represented the international company and at times their modest office seemed to exude an atmosphere of blissful harmony.
Larissa was blonde and blue-eyed with high-refined cheekbones. She was quite tall and slim with a nice, willowy figure with beautiful shaped, smallish breasts and a bottom that curved invitingly. Sometimes when she was engrossed in her work Michael found himself, against his will, gazing almost hungrily at her body.
She never appeared to notice but perhaps as with most women, she instinctively knew when a man was admiring her. Even so there was no flirtation between them. Larissa was married and bringing up a small daughter and sometimes after work Michael would see her husband patiently waiting on the street below to escort her home. She always behaved correctly with Michael and he instinctively sensed any attempt on his part to cross the professional boundary would destroy their working relationship. They never touched each other but if their fingers did accidentally meet, it was as if an electrical charge passed through Michael and from Larissa's startled glance he divined she was also conscious of the natural attraction existing between them.
As the economic crisis deepened and international companies quietly cut back on investment plans or even more quietly pulled out of the country, so the more Michael laughed and joked and the more Larissa realized the serious business of keeping things going in this difficult environment depended on her. He would spend hours sitting at his desk in the back office dreaming and gazing out of the window enchanted by the street scenes, the delicate carvings on the pastel-coloured buildings, the robins that swooped around sometimes landing on his windowsill. 'Michael, you're a poet not a businessman,' Larissa would say seriously, as if absolving him from too onerous duty. He would joke and swan around town and she would work and make the money.
One day when the whole team was laughing at some frivolous comment he had made she said out loud in front of everyone- 'Oh Michael, - how I love you' - he took it as it was meant - lightly and without significance.
***
All this time Deneil had been listening patiently to Michael's narrative. Now he could not help interrupting.
'So you say you never made any advances towards her?' he asked almost incredulously.
'No, not once but we came close, very close. You know those small, Soviet-style lifts. They are standard in most apartment buildings in the city. Our office was on the fourth floor and one evening leaving work together we got stuck in the lift. The doors closed on us and the lights went off. They have microphones in them in case they break down.'
'Which they do frequently,' Deneil commented.
'That's the only time it's happened to me. There is a direct link to the concierge who informs the emergency services. We were told we would have to wait an hour. We were in total darkness. I couldn't even see her face. We were very close because of the cold and it was as if we fitted together. It would have been so easy to do something Deneil, I could have stroked her hair or kissed her. But I didn't. I kept picturing the sad face of her husband and I kept reminding myself that as her manager I could not afford to mix emotions with business. It took forty-five minutes for the lift to get started and during that time I felt such peace, it is difficult to describe.'
Michael shifted in his seat almost angrily.
'People like you and me rarely press the pause button in our lives,' he continued. 'Either life pushes us or we push at it. We don't allow ourselves to rest. If things are going all right we seek to disrupt them. We're not happy in the present. We are always looking to move on then we find what we've moved on to was not what we hoped it would be.' He paused. He was something of a homespun philosopher, with his bright, green eyes and deliberate Harvard educated speech expounding this theory in the somewhat incongruous setting of the Cowboy Bar, which was filling up with night girls.
'Last summer was the nearest I've come to just standing still and savouring life,' he continued. 'The job was a travesty. The economy was so bad, we couldn't cover our costs and there seemed to be no way of getting new clients and no new business but inside I just felt this peace. All my upbringing and education said I must move on. I must find more challenges, do something to make my curriculum vitae look better but doing nothing, just drifting seemed like a wonderful luxury. Not always or course. I was as frustrated as anyone with the wretched business environment. I felt rather worthless as a businessman but fundamentally it didn't seem to matter.'
'So why didn't that continue?' Deneil asked. "I abdicated.'
'You did what?'
'I abdicated from my position as manager. I was feeling guilty because in truth Larissa was making most of the money. I was sitting in the back office and just dreaming. Anyway my boss came to Kiev and I explained I had really nothing more to do here and asked if he had a new job for me. He suggested I take on the role of managing our other small operations in Eastern Europe. It was not the promotion I wanted because our businesses in places like Moldova and Belarus are so tiny they cause more headaches than they are worth. The job involved continual travelling but having asked for a new position, I felt I couldn't change my mind. So I said yes and then because I was going to spend most of my time out of Kiev we needed a day-to-day manager for the business here and I suggested we set up a local company and make Larissa the legal director. I thought she should be rewarded. After all one is supposed to delegate isn't one, except I didn't really delegate, I abdicated.'
Deneil emptied his glass and ordered another beer for both of them.
'At the beginning of February,' Michael continued, 'we went to head office for two days of handover training, basically to teach her the management procedures. We spent all our time together. We laughed all the time. She was joyous as if liberated from some oppressive presence - and then, when we flew back to Kiev, it was like the exhilaration drained out of her and at the arrivals gate there was the tired, sad face of her husband waiting for her and I realized she would never leave her husband, not ever, not in a million years.'
He paused.
'Larissa changed from that time on and I lost control of her. I was spending most of my time traveling and although I was still technically in charge of the operation here she began to go round me and directly to my boss. She didn't send me the correct information when I asked for it or if I wanted something done immediately, she systematically delayed doing it long enough to test my patience, as if trying to wear me down.' Michael fell silent. 'How?' he was wondering, 'had Larissa come by her dismissive air, the cold precision of her voice as she rapped out orders to her team, her undisguised pleasure in her position as leader, unwilling even to make a single phone call herself - insisting on an underling dialing the numbers for her - this demand for a prestige office and an ever larger desk even though the cost of it all was crippling their modest business. From where did she get that slight, contemptuous snigger in their management meetings?
Where had she learnt her obstructive tactics - imperiously motioning him to sit whilst she finished a phone call and then keeping the conversation going so long that he wearied of waiting and left her office without obtaining the information he needed.
'Now we have a situation' he said quietly, 'where the tax office claims we are guilty of accounting irregularities and we owe them thousands of dollars. Of course there are discrepancies in our accounts and Larissa concealed them from me and obstructed me when I asked direct questions.'
'You mean she was taking money from the company.'
'No I don't mean that. I still think she's basically honest. I believe it was fundamental incompetence but she concealed these errors from me and didn't give me the chance to sort everything out. I have had to inform our head office and they are furious and are threatening to close the whole operation down.'
Michael stopped speaking. The music had started and a few couples were dancing on the small dance floor. The wild-west swing doors were opening with regularity as more people came piling into the place, stamping the snow from their boots, their faces flushed red from the cold.
'She should have shown more gratitude,' Deneil said indignantly. 'You brought her up from nothing. You rewarded her very well. She is earning extremely good money by the standards of her contemporaries. And you cared about her. As a woman she sensed that -
I bet she reveled in it. Also you showed her how to take pride in her work - you shared the excitement of growing a business. Because of you she was able to transform herself from the standard, limited, communist type into a modern, flexible businesswoman. You gave her so much damn more than you got, Michael. You thought because you were not working hard that you should penalise yourself but you didn't need to - you really didn't need to!'
'Yes,' said Michael slowly, 'I took a great pride in observing her development.'
'Most people here never got anything under the communist system except by cheating,' Deneil continued, 'and unfortunately now when they see the way to get their hands on money or power, their instinct is just to grab it. It's a mistake to think they share our western, moral standards. Look at how corrupt rich people are in this country.'
'Ah well,' Michael sighed, 'and now we have reached the final showdown. Either I back down or Larissa goes. I am really not quite sure what to do.'
'It's very simple, Michael. You have to get rid of her.'
'If I remove her I am probably on my way out of the company as well. They'll regard it as my failure to manage, which I suppose it is. They're absolutely uninterested in the business here anyway. If I get rid of her I rock the boat too much and it gives the top guys in London the justification they need to close the operation and pull out of the country. It is a strange situation. I've lost control of her but if she goes, I predict I'll be for the chop shortly after. It's almost as if she is my lifeline in the company.'
'That's what she's counting on Michael. If you're going to go down, take her with you.
At least don't give her the satisfaction of winning.
There would be nothing she would want more than to be the manager here, with no Michael to take the credit or to check on any dubious dealings. My advice is - go for the jugular! She's shown you she's no good. If the company's decent they'll support your decision.
If not, do you really want to be working for that kind of company anyway?'
Michael looked at him sadly. 'You're right of course but why couldn't we have avoided this situation.'
They paid the bill and together climbed the stairs to the exit. Outside the snow had stopped and stars had come out. They walked down Passazh together treading through virgin snow and on reaching Khreschatyk, they shook hands, said goodbye and went their separate ways. As Michael was waiting for a taxi he gazed at the white, frozen street and breathed in the cold, clear air and suddenly felt inexplicably and indescribably happy.
***
A few days later having clarified everything with his lawyer, Michael came into Larissa's office, and whilst she was talking with a client, opened the safe and took out the company charter and registration documents. He ignored her outraged cry and walked hurriedly out of the building to a pre-arranged meeting with his lawyer.
During the next five minutes she called him four times on his mobile phone and four times he switched it off and on again.
He arrived at work the next morning with a feeling almost of trepidation. Larissa was waiting trembling with anger.
'Michael, where are the company charter and registration documents.' It was not a question. It was an order in its full force and Michael thought 'how had he let her imagine she had so much authority? What weakness in him had allowed her to assume such control?'
'Larissa, as your manager I have full rights to all company documents whenever I need them.'
'You have no right to take these documents,' she said in a voice of thunder. 'They must never leave the premises. We have no copies. If you lost them, we would have no company Charter and we would be in total breach of the law and I as Director of the Ukrainian company could go to prison for that! How dare you risk that? It's irresponsible and it's stupid. Now give them to me!'
As always in his ignorance of Ukrainian company law and her insistence that he had done something illegal, Michael felt a shiver of fear run through him.
'Larissa,' he said looking directly at her. 'What makes you think you can shout at me?'
'What gives you the right to take those documents? I am the Director I am responsible by law for them.'
Suddenly Michael had an intuition that maybe Larissa's behaviour wasn't just a result of a selfish greed. It was the stress of a woman who could not really cope. He had pushed her beyond her capabilities in this brash new, commercial world. Perhaps she needed a shoulder to lean on, someone to guide her and this frantic posturing had been brought about partly because of his going away. Instead of rewarding her with more responsibility as he thought, he had let her down. Was it that? Or was it all a cynical attempt to wrest control of the business? He really couldn't judge any longer. He took a deep breath.
'Larissa. As of yesterday you are no longer the director of the Ukrainian company. We changed the company charter by notary and I appointed our lawyer the Director of the company.' Larissa gasped and went pale and said nothing.
'I'm leaving for Moldova tomorrow.' Michael continued. "I'll give you the rest of the week to clear your desk. The company will give you a settlement of four months pay. When I come back next Monday, I'll take on the role of day to day manager until we appoint someone else.'
He turned away and started to leave the room. Larissa came after him.
'Michael, please.' He turned round reluctantly. He didn't want hysterics on top of everything.
'Why Michael, Why?' she said sadly.
'Why the obstructions, the miscommunications, the inaccuracies and the lies, Larissa? All I ever did was to push you up. You know I treated you well. I was tolerant of most things but not your lying. That was the end for me.'
'Oh' she gasped, 'I didn't think of it like that. You wanted to delegate. You kept disappearing. You didn't seem to be interested. I just decided I should run everything my way and that's what you wanted - and you didn't need to know the details'... she looked repentant and shocked and cowed.
They looked into each other's eyes for some seconds and it seemed for a brief instant as if they were gazing into each other's souls with a kind of wonderment at what they saw. Michael averted his gaze and spoke awkwardly.
'How have we come to this Larissa? We were happy together. We were like a family. We built this business like brother and sister. We worked side by side, day after day for more than two years in harmony. I doubt I have spent so many of my waking hours with a woman in my adult life as I've spent with you. I suppose I was just too soft.
I turned a blind eye when you began to get out of control. I should have been tougher. I thought you would settle down but you didn't. You got worse and worse.'
'Michael, I am sorry, I am so sorry,' Larissa murmured and he saw tears in her wonderful, soft blue eyes against the shape of her delicately chiseled cheekbones. 'She's so beautiful,' he thought 'and I must turn my heart to stone.'
'Michael, please forgive me,' she said. 'Oh God I didn't understand. I didn't realize.'
'I forgive you but it's too late to change anything. Between us we've almost ruined our business and now my task is just to save it. If you think I am in a secure position you are mistaken. This is probably the end of the road for me too.'
'Michael, you deserted me,' she said dreamily. 'You should never have left me. You're the one who went away. None of this would have happened if you had stayed.'
'Stayed for what, Larissa? People move on,' Michael replied stolidly. 'None of this should have happened anyway.'
Larissa bowed her head in pain.
'Goodbye' he said.
And they shook hands formally.
'Really, whatever there was between us has gone,' he thought. He walked out of the room and closed the door.
As Michael had predicted, not three weeks later he lost his own job in the company, which was entirely uninterested in Eastern Europe and decided to franchise out operations in the region he was managing. They did not have the vision to see that Michael was one of the achievers creating the beginnings of a market economy in the difficult terrain and virgin soil of a country emerging from deepest communism. Payback had to be immediate and substantial not some time in the vague future.
'We note your substantial contribution to the Eastern European operations,' they wrote - 'but it has to be said that the forecasted profits were not forthcoming and the business risk potentially put the good name of the company in jeopardy.'
As Michael had prepared himself for this outcome he was not too bitterly disappointed. But surprisingly the team he and Larissa had put in place flourished and went from strength to strength winning contracts from their competitors and establishing themselves as number one in the market. It was as if the family had grown up and matured after both 'parents' moved away and the harmony and beauty of those happy, early years together had created an invincible team that still works there to this day.
As for Larissa, Michael never saw her or spoke to her again. All the old togetherness had disappeared. But sometimes waking from a dream in the middle of the night, he was afflicted by a curious feeling of regret that he had never even kissed her and now never would.
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Read also previous issue' articles:
Cows and Parachutists
Vietnam, Cobra-laced rice moonshine and those smiles
Gambling on the Slope
Manners Cost Nothing
A Roger By Any Other Name
Never Underestimate the Mark!
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