Chapter 5 here ... Chapter 7 here
HOME
I
Ksenia opened her mouth once or twice but nothing came out. Finally she said: ‘Hugh, why did you come to tell me this? Whatever I tell you now, you’re going to doubt.’
‘Unless I’m not too sane myself, of course, in which case I’d have a fair idea what was the truth and what was not. So speak to me.’
She looked down at the floor. ‘There are truths and untruths all wound in together. Yes, there’s a file on me, a long one. And yes, that’s how I do it, but only on legitimate targets - I'd never let them get as far as you did, as feelings start to come into it. I work for my country, I’ve never been freelance and I never would. Plus, executions have never been my thing.
You were never on my list because I’m working directly under instructions from home. You were … you still are … in danger from commercial elements who hire people they wish to and the flight north was necessary from that point of view. The thing is though, Hugh, it wasn’t you they want to hit at this time. It's me.
That's why Zhenya was so concerned and he suspected you might have been the one sent in to deal with me. I do admit that I needed to have you close, to work out if you were who you said you were. As I said though, we didn't really need to go north and take a room to discover that.’
‘So you’re not a psychopath, after all?’
‘Oh, I’m a psychopath all right. That’s also on the record.’
II
Marc Lacour had to attend to business most of the day and part of that business was to visit the Pedagogical University, where a Parisienne friend of Genevieve’s, Louise Bonnet, had been seconded to the French department for a month.
Of course he was welcomed with open arms, this and that were discussed for some time, after which he took her out to the Hotel Shadzhara, across Pushkina in the centre, for a drink.
With his moral compass, he was neither better nor worse than the next man but he had a dilemma on his hands when he realized two things - Louisa was a bit of a blabbermouth and it was common knowledge that she opened up more, excuse the expression, if she was being bedded at the time. Therefore, men tended to get more secrets out of her than women.
The downside was that, though she was well dressed and not unpersonable to look at from a certain angle, her manner put the average male off, if not at first, then as time went on. She knew this and it made her try that much harder, which was precisely the wrong thing to do in her case.
So he had this before him now. She wasn’t working for any section he knew and yet the university back home was sending her over here, on a French salary, several times a year.
Now, her field of expertise was university calibre but it was hardly world-shattering. In other words, there didn’t seem any necessity to send a mere lecturer so often unless something else was happening.
And why here, in this city in particular?
Well, this was one where Genevieve was going to draw a blank, unfortunately.
III
There was silence for the space of two and a half minutes in Ksenia’s room whilst Hugh thought out how to reply to that bullet. She waited patiently, it had been a good shot and her nerves were abating.
‘You come out and … tell me … you’re a psychopath?’ was all he could manage. ‘I have to admire your spirit … that’s the sort of thing I’d say.’
‘I didn’t say I was. At least I did but what I meant was that it was on the record.’
‘You know, I think I actually understand you. What you’re trying to say is that someone put it on your record but it’s actually a distortion, da?’
‘Da, that’s what I’m saying. But there is also truth in the reports. I do have a psychological file from my childhood – a family matter – but you only have to read it to see it has nothing to do with my work. If it did, I’d not be working. We’re a bureaucracy and they don’t employ people without medical ‘spravka’ – a clean bill of health.’
‘Can you tell me anything about the childhood problem?’
‘I have trouble forming relationships. On the rare occasions I do, I can’t maintain them.’
‘Where does that leave you and me?’
‘What’s you and me, Hugh? Don’t confuse me. While we just enjoy one another, everything’s fine, even if we keep doing that forever. But when you try to draw in the reins, that’s when I’ll start becoming nervous. But I'm sure,' she admitted, 'if I can extend the same rights to you. And as we need to have the same rights ...’
‘It’s fine, Ksusha, it’s all right,' and his voice was soothing. 'Tell me – have you ever killed someone?’
‘Of course but in the line of work. I can swear to you, klyanyus, on the name of my mother, that I’ve never done anything remotely violent to any lover, no matter what he’s done to me.’ There were tears at the corners of her eyes. She asked, ‘Once he gets past my defences and it's only happened twice, I can never hurt him. Even if they decide it's better not to be with me any more.’
'If you let me, I'll stay and hold you all night. I'll need to phone the B&B.'
'That would be nice.' She handed him her phone.
.o0o.
He went into Little Portland the next morning, booked for two, returned and packed his things at the B&B, the car came round, they stopped and collected her in the Strand, and then it was off to Heathrow.
.o0o.
In the check-in queue, she bumped him again but this time he held onto his cabin bag. 'You're learning,' she grinned.
.o0o.
In Moscow, after they’d been through the processing, certain observant people didn’t know what to make of it when she pushed him hard against a wall, locking her lips with his in shark feeding frenzy for two minutes. When he spun her round and forced her against the wall, observers were gobsmacked that Ksenia Sharova was putting up with this.
The exhibitionists disengaged and went out to the waiting car, introductions were effected and off they went to Domodyedova.
.o0o.
In the middle of the main concourse, she once again attacked him, for the benefit of the Watchers, this time lifting a thigh high to his waist, which had people goggle-eyed as he held it there for a moment, he pulled her in hard and they spent a totally oblivious three to four minutes in a kiss, disengaged again and went through.
Over to one side, observing all this, were the unsmiling eyes of her brother Zhenya.
.o0o.
At the other end of the flight Hugh took a taxi to his own flat and tried to call Anya from there, then called Liya and arranged to meet her the coming Thursday, 16:00, at Giuseppe.
IV
As they lay on the divan in the living room later, with MTV in the background, Marc told Dilyara about Louisa.
Dilyara had something to add. ‘I think she's the one usually hanging around Pushkina with that tall Frenchman.’
‘What tall Frenchman?’ Marc asked with a start.
‘I don’t know - tall, coiffed hair, good looking.’
A thought started to form in his head but it was so ludicrous, he put it to one side. ‘Dilya, if you see those two again and you think there’s anything I … er … should know ... a better description would help for a start.’
‘I’ll do better than that – I’ll get a photo of the two of them - from a distance of course.’
‘You be careful.’
She grinned and flicked her dark hair back over her shoulder. ‘Are you planning to take me back to Paris or do you see me as your lover whenever you visit here?’
He caught his breath. ‘Didn’t we discuss that? What do you want?’
‘To go with you, wherever you are, to be within ten kilometres of you, knowing I could be there when you wanted me.’
‘You’re pretty independent, Dilya. Do you really want that?’
‘As far as I can see, for now - yes.’
V
A few minutes before midnight the Wednesday after they'd returned, Ksenia called him. 'I'd - like to see you.'
He knew that had cost her to say that - he'd be there in thirty minutes. 'No,' she said. 'I'll come to you.'
.o0o.
Thirty minutes later, she was with him, sipping on a coffee. ‘So, Mr. Jensen, what of Anya?’
‘Incommunicado, I haven’t seen her and that’s that. I tried calling her, contacting her mum, contacting Liya. All went vague on me. She might drop in tonight, she might not. Maybe she thinks we’re still in Britain. I think she must know I’m here.’
‘Of course she knows. No girl would simply not keep tabs on where her man was. Ex or not, she’d know. She’d be doing some phoning, keeping an eye on you from a distance. Are you strong enough to walk away, if you have to?’
‘I'm confused.’
‘I knew you would be. Back home, it had to be like that. When you see her, it will be even more confusing.’
‘She doesn’t operate like a normal woman. She’s incapable of looking after herself. She thinks she can but she was spoilt as a child. She could just appear, as if nothing had ever happened.’
‘And you let her play this game with you?'
'When a man of my type let's a woman run rings round him, he's usually besotted, soft on her. There's a lot of history with Anya and me. We carved out a life together, played by our own rules, did it our way, against a lot of hostile opinion. We were us. When it ended, we did it our way.'
'I don't like being used.'
He thought about that. 'I don't think, after the initial trick you played on me, that either of us was using the other. I think that when we went north, the using stopped and something else happened. Tell me I'm wrong in this.'
'You can't be chasing me while you still have that sort of relationship with Anya. I'm more serious than that. Let's say it's as you told me - that she could just return like that,' she clicked her fingers. 'Is that fair to me, especially if I'm starting to think seriously about you?'
'No it's not. The thing is, she's currently into this other man but I can't see it lasting, not from the way she was speaking. So let's say she appears one night. My head says not to let her in but that would kill me. The whole reason for me coming to Russia - how can I send that away, kill it forever?'
'What I see happening, Hugh, is that she'll return and as you've just said, she'll get inside your brain again - that's if she ever left it. You're not strong with women and sometimes we need firmness. I can't let myself go to you in my heart until I can be sure that you can leave the past and move to the future.
That's why I'm going to take the projects Ludvalerievna offers, why I'm going to keep a distance but close enough, should you be clear enough in your head to move forward. It might not even be me you'll move forward with but you have to sort it out with her - whether you stay with her or not.
Also, I have a feeling you might have a few problems soon - of a different kind.’
He smiled. ‘Aha, Ksenia - the stormy petrel - I might have known. You ‘have a feeling’, yes?’
‘Didn’t put that very well, did I? Not from Zhenya, nor from me.’
‘I’m all ears. Tell me the tale.’
‘I don’t know all the details but you’ve offended a large Moscow businessman who deals with foreign companies setting up over here. I really don’t know what you’re supposed to have done. He also knows of your connection to Zhenya and me and wonders what you’re up to. That’s it. I’m sorry because I wanted us to have a clear run ... to think about each other.’
‘I wanted that too.’
‘Hugh, I’m going home now – it’s far too complicated to stay overnight and you know why.’
She phoned for a taxi and thirty minutes later, took her leave.
Anya never called.
V
Marc flew back to Paris with Dilyara.
At the airport, Nicolette had a car and so the section knew all about it within the hour.
Claudette had been the one who’d come to the party. With her agreement to put Dilyara up for a nominal rent for six months, with Louisa’s connections at the university, with Dilyara’s academic pedigree, including in Britain, it was not going to be an impossibility.
That would give the two of them plenty of time to see if it could be made to work. It was all Genevieve could do for Marc, by way of appreciation.
There was one other matter and it was the photograph Dilyara had promised. She’d taken it from a shop door and had duly passed it on to Marc who’d done a double take.
That evening the section threw a welcoming dinner for Dilyara, the photo was passed to Genevieve who viewed it and placed it inside her copy of Troilus and Cressida in the bookshelf and didn’t refer to it again.
VI
Liya and Hugh had a good relationship in their own right, both comfortable with the other, both happy to use the other, with the other’s consent so to speak, to achieve their own ends.
It never went anywhere and was always just a pleasant interlude, with a fair amount of laughter. Hugh was at his most outrageous with her, for some reason.
‘Does Anya know you’re with me?’ was his first question, after the first slice of pizza had gone down the hatch.
‘I don’t know. I didn’t call her.’
‘Not good enough, Liya. You introduced the two of them.’
She was shocked he knew this much. Anya never could keep her trap shut but when had she had a chance to tell him? ‘Look, Marat fell head over heels for her, just as you did. That’s all. She’s flattered by it all. It was only ever you two for so long and you never even had time for me,’ she cried mock tears. ‘Tell me about London.’
‘In a minute, Liya – promise. I have to get this issue finished first.' Good, he had the guy's name. 'This Marat works at Dvoretz Sporta, doesn't he?’
‘How on earth do you know that?’
He didn’t but it stood to reason in the context of what both had said so far. ‘How do you read the danger level … for me?’
Liya paused and chose her words carefully. ‘In the hockey season, she wants to attend matches.’
‘I see.’
‘I think you might have a problem on your hands, at least for now. She still talks about you the whole time though - so you’ve not lost her altogether. Maybe she needs both of you.’
‘Over my dead body.’
‘Tell me about London.’
He did, including the part about the north and she was open-mouthed.
VII
The first week had passed in Paris and Dilyara had found some haunts she liked, in particular Café Toulouse on rue du Jardin, in the 11ème arrondissement.
She’d done the mainstream shopping on Hausman and the Champs-Élysées and was starting to radiate outwards from there. Paris didn’t faze her in the least, there was always a gallant who’d accompany her, her looks exotic, even for the French, it wasn’t half bad.
Marc was round about enough, Claudette was busy but popped in to see that all was well, there was the television when she was tired; it was fine. She had some nice things now to wear and her three hours at the university were a doddle.
And yet she wasn’t happy.
There it was. She’d known the lie of the land before she’d even arrived, it was no more nor less than she’d been briefed on and yet she was already restless.
VIII
Hugh agreed to drop Liya at her place on Ibragimova but now she changed her mind and wanted to go back to Dvoretz Sporta, they hailed a car and went down Chernoshyevskovo.
On the corner of Profsoyuznaya, in broad daylight, there were his Anya and some man who seemed very much to fit the description of this Marat, both hitching a lift.
Liya told the driver to drive on but a few seconds later, he asked the man to stop and as he offered more roubles on top, that's what now happened. She put out a restraining hand but he said, 'Don't worry.'
He walked quickly up Chernoshyevskovo. Anya saw him first, said something to the man and came towards him, desperate to avoid a scene.
‘Hugh.’
‘Is that him?’ She didn’t answer. He persisted. ‘And you’re at work today, my love?’
‘I am working – I always come into town on a Thursday and he agreed to have lunch – that’s all.’
‘Come with me now, Anya.’
‘I can’t. It would be rude.’
He counted to ten in his head, turned and stumbled back down to the car. Once inside, he said to Liya: ‘He’s nothing special.’
She didn’t comment and tried to suppress a smile. They drove down to the sports palace, he went round, opened the door and she got out. ‘Will you see me tomorrow?’
‘After this?’
‘Especially after this.’
‘Hugh I’m not going to be your spy and I'm not gooing to take the place of Anya.’
‘Have I asked you to? Do you think I don't know about your love life?’
Again she was shocked he knew this much. ‘I'm free at 16:00. Can you be?’
‘Giuseppe again?’
‘I like pizza.’
‘All right, 16:00 tomorrow. I’ll bring a car here.’
‘I’ll come out to you.’
He was using Liya but he liked her a hell of a lot too. The thing with Anya was nauseating but first he had some questions to ask himself.
IX
September, 1997
The inevitable first of September came around, and the major news was Diana’s Paris crash a few days back. All sorts of theories swirled round staffrooms, cafes and on Russian TV. It was the occult, she'd been the moon goddess, it was Charles who'd ordered it, it was Phillip, there were so many anomalies, there was deep shock.
It's fair to say it cast a pall over the opening of the new academic year.
On September 14th, Hugh was due to begin at the Pedagogical University – speaking practice was his brief, just a few pairs a week, 80 minutes each. The groups were numbered roughly according to ability, 401 generally regarded as the best and 406 the least able to converse in English.
On the 15th, he’d already learnt not to arrive during a break because there’d be up to 700 girls and about 15 boys coming down the stairs while he was trying to swim upwards. So he arrived near the end of the last ‘pair’ and waited in the foyer area on the fourth floor. He had 402 today.
A girl came up and introduced herself as Alina, said he was teaching her the next pair and asked him about Britain and sundry things. He took her in - tall and dark, pretty, lovely voice.
X
Dilyara knew what the problem was – this was Marc’s métier here in Paris and hers was back there. This was her main chance but she couldn’t, she couldn’t.
As she exited C&A, on boulevard Haussmann, she was thinking if only she could get him back there and be surrounded by everything and everyone she loved.
She sighed and determined to speak with him that evening but already knew the response. It just wasn’t satisfactory to be his ‘girl in Shadzhara’ whenever he decided to visit and this thing she was doing now was too temporary, too touristy for words. There was no infrastructure.
Stepping across the road, a dark navy Peugeot 406 swung round from rue Charras and instead of slowing for the zebra crossing, actually sped up, hit Dilyara side on before she had the slightest chance to even register surprise and sped off down Haussman.
XI
Another heated three way conference at the kitchen table in Zyelornilyes was in full fury - Safin had changed his stance on his younger sister. What an amazing stroke of luck that Alina was in one of the Englishman’s groups.
Olyesa was having none of it. ‘O chom bazar - what the hell are you talking about! Blin!’
‘I think Alina should see a bit of him. Perfect.’
‘Look, you fool - you don’t know when to stop. You don’t know when not to use people, that they might resent it. You’re completely amoral - you use anyone for your own ends, Sirozh.’
He looked to the sky and made circular movements with his hand which caused the blood to rush to her brain. ‘You do this, Sirozh and I’ll tell Papa the lot - the photos, Oleg, the lot. You’ll have to take me out too to stop me. I believe you’d do it too if your masters told you to.’
‘Don’t be stupid,’ he muttered, got up and left.
Alina gazed on, thoughtfully.
XII
In the early evening, seated at the low table in the middle of his living room, Viktor was on edge. He set down his coffee cup, sat slightly forward on the chair, hands clasped between his knees but couldn’t begin.
‘Tell me,’ Hugh invited.
‘It’s Roxana. We’ve split.’
‘Oh man, so sorry. Seems to be the season for it, from where I stand. Tell me what you can.’
Roxana’s prospects at the bank improved; I suppose she was increasingly called to Moscow, then when she’d come back, she'd have to host dinners and meetings almost constantly. I was proud of her, you know that but there are limits - surely you'd agree with that, Man - and then something happened which brought back all the old suspicions - a defensive answer to an innocent question, I swear, which she interpreted as a probing question.
Whenever she had a meeting in Ulitsa Shadzhara, it seemed to happen. So I broke my rule and went there. To that restaurant. There was no meeting. We had it out on the phone and I didn’t play it cool. I asked her straight out why she’d lied.’
‘Yes.’
‘She blustered and tried to turn it on me that I was so suspicious. I know I was and she had reasons to leave me over that alone. She decided to tough it out - seemed to want it to continue but for what?’
‘I have to say, the thought had crossed my mind. I’m sorry. I had a talk with her one day.’
‘Oh?’
‘There you go, you see. I don’t mind but you have to see she’s got you on edge and has had for some time. It hasn’t been right since that first time you went to the restaurant.’
‘It wasn’t the first time.’
‘Whatever. The thing is, I’ve been in this position too. The suspicion starts in and I know it’s easy to say, it’s none too easy with this Marat but if you don’t clear the air completely with her at the time, you have to pack it in there and then.’
‘I couldn’t.’
‘Nor could I. By the way, are you willing to risk me making the coffee?’
Viktor smiled a weak smile. ‘Let’s find out.’
Hugh got up, paused and said, ‘Just sit there a few moments and let me poison you.’
When Hugh brought back the coffee, Viktor wanted to change topics.
‘I’ve been making a few inquiries but only one of the replies matters. There’s a conflict between two foreign firms - Zhenya Sharov is aligned with one of the companies and his sister appears to be too. On the other hand, there's word that he has moved to a rival firm, so automatically, that aligns you and together with a number of things you seem to have done of your own volition, the other side has you on the general list for elimination.’
‘Your suggestion?’
‘Vary your routines for some time, come home at different times. I can’t give you any better advice just now but I’ll keep enquiring and I’ll tell you if I come up with anything more.'
.o0o.
He went through to the padyezd, pushed the button and heard the whoosh of the lift. It clanked open and he was on the way up. The lift stopped at his floor with that echoing clash of steel, the double doors opened and there was Anya in front of him.
‘You have a key – why didn’t you go in?’ he asked.
‘I wasn’t sure,’ she dropped her head.
‘Come in.’
She went through and noticed the tapechki on the floor still at the door. ‘Are these slippers for when I returned?’
‘Need you ask?'
‘Let’s get the tea together quickly because I need to tell you something.’ She busied herself, made it all more quickly than he could have and they went through to the living room. She looked at him and he disliked himself for simply taking her into his arms. She must have known, hoped he would do it.
When they came out of it, she said, ‘I wasn't sure you’d do that again. Listen, anything with you and me needs to be put on hold. Dilyara was hit by a car in Paris.’
‘Marc never called me.’
‘I can’t blame him. I’m devastated too. Her mother called me. She’s not dead but she’s a mess. And Hugh, the police are saying it was no accident.’
XIII
Marc did call from Genevieve’s the following evening while Viktor was supping on Hugh’s soup concoction and pronouncing it exquisite.
Hugh listened for some time then responded, ‘Right, Marc, when do you fly in? Uh huh. Her parents will collect you, you say? Fine. Call me again when you get here.’
He turned to Viktor. ‘They’re coming back to Shadzhara.’
Marc put the receiver back and turned to Genevieve. ‘I keep asking the same thing. Why her? Me - yes. You - yes. Why her?’
‘Has to be a family connection, Marc. Hugh isn’t close enough and there was no suggestion there was anything going on there. Whom does it hurt? Her family and you. I think it was for you.’
‘I do too. It means we’re getting close. Don’t forget you hold that photo, Mademoiselle, which Ver -’ He looked at Genevieve, who went across to her window in her characteristic way and gazed down on the street below.
‘Oui, Marc. It could well be that. I think we shouldn’t confuse the Hugh business with Dilyara. They’re two different matters but this last one concerns us. Now that had already crossed my mind.’
Marc looked at her. She was a classic beauty, Genevieve, quite Gallic in her face and manner and though fashion was not her second name as with, say, Francine, she knew how to appear simply elegant, the perfect head for such a section, with the calm ruthlessness to go with it, plus a touch of vulnerability to round it off.
Even though she did not exude any particular menace, no one would wish to cross Genevieve, not even her backers.
XIV
Anya phoned mid-afternoon and he mentioned that Viktor was with him; he passed the phone across and Viktor spoke respectfully and politely, before handing back the receiver.
Viktor felt he had to be on his way and wasn't to be persuaded.
.o0o.
Twenty five minutes later, there was a knock on the door and in walked Anya, she kicked off her shoes, donned the tapechki and went through to the living room where he’d reset the place. He’d even gone downstairs with Viktor and picked up a couple of the salads he knew she liked, although obviously not from the shop she liked. And it mattered to her. Ho hum.
‘Well, lubimaya maya,’ smiled Hugh, once they were settled down to converse, ‘tell me about him.’
‘You first.’
‘Ladies first.’
She sighed. ‘It couldn’t have worked - he was too submissive. You know me.’
‘How could you agree to sleep with someone else when we were fiancees?’
‘You can talk. We kept postponing it and then when you just went to Australia, despite everything I’d said, I did invite him over. My head was in a spin, that was all. I didn’t think it out.’ She sighed again and asked him, ‘What’s with you and her?’
'There are feelings. She's made it clear that she and I can't go together unless it's over with you and me. That's fair, isn't it? We mustn't use each other, Anya. I think you can get someone very easily, it's less easy for me but I'm lucky to have the possibility of Ksenia. I need you to not use me but decide if you want me or not. I need to do the same.’
'Let's talk at Giuseppe, over a pizza and champagne.'
He looked at her and called a cab.
.o0o.
The Unusual Couple were in there again. She had on a different outfit this time but the formula was the same - elegant boots, simple jumper, gold chain but the hair was shorter, done in a certain style and the earrings were long and straight this time.
Her face was a little more blemished and she showed signs of being careworn. Life was beginning to impinge on those two, that much was clear.
Anya told him the latest on Dilyara, that Marc was staying there, that she had broken ribs and tibia but was otherwise all right, that she was in deep depression as well. She had the news on Liya and her new beau, also a hockey player and they both smiled.
With the news done, it was now a question of whether they went back to their own homes or whether she'd come to his.
XV
Dilyara’s parents had returned to the forest, the brother was off on one of his jaunts to another town with his young lady and finally Marc had some time alone with her.
‘I want to talk,’ she started and raised her hand. ‘No, don’t stop me and say it’s too early and so on. Let’s talk, Marc.’ He nodded. ‘I love you.’
He nodded again, then realized he was meant to respond. But did he love her? It took a full minute before he answered, ‘Moi aussi. je t’aime.’
There were tears in her eyes over that silent minute – he hadn’t done it well. She lay and he sat in silence for a while, made all the worse by the clock ticking on the mantelpiece. There seemed few words which hadn’t already passed between them.
She broke the silence. ‘You’ll fly back to Paris, won’t you?’
‘Oui.’
‘And marry some French girl.’
‘Non. Je t’aime.’
‘I make life hard for you, don’t I?’
‘My work is taking up all my time. It’s really difficult having a life. But as for love, my heart is with you.’
‘I don’t want an on/off, occasional visit type of relationship.’
‘I also don’t.’
‘When will you fly back?’
‘In two days.’
XVI
November, 1997
The late autumn chill was upon the city but still no snow. It was bleak and dismal, with only bitter, grey, clear skies overhead and the trees just seemed to wither up and die. The October 27th stock crash seemed to be consuming the outside world but hadn’t fully impacted in Shadzhara.
Days later, the sky whitened, a good sign, a few flurries drifted down and became slush, the skies cleared again to a lifeless grey, then one morning, Shadzhara awoke to find white fluff on top of cars and on the grass, with just a few green patches here and there.
The next few days saw heavy, dumping drifts, the air was white, the birds became disoriented and hit glass window panes, everyone rugged up and winter was again upon Russia.
Ksenia was off on a job overseas, she'd phoned, he could only ask her to take care but she'd been hoping he'd invite her over. She wasn't going to ask, especially not now.
XVIII
December, 1997
There's an interesting phenomenon in that when you aren't with someone or when you're married, you tend not to meet the opposite sex. Then, when you become involved with one, others start to appear, as if from nowhere.
There's also a theory that you only get to see a woman if you wish her too and this one seemed to wish that now.
Her name was Aliya.
They met one evening in the foyer of Gostinit’sa Regi’na and she drank mineral water. More along the lines of Dilyara, she had this manner about her he adored and she certainly played up to it.
The obvious question was why she'd appeared and why he'd immediately suggested this meeting. The venue was logical - the hotel was close to her house, which itself was a bit further on from Viktor’s - she'd mentioned where she'd lived.
The complication now was that Viktor now saw them together.
He’d been out shopping at the high-end store Bahatlye, where all the discerning went to buy salads and smoked salmon and saw her give Hugh a peck on the cheek, taking his forearms and looking into his eyes, before departing. Viktor counted to ten then called out.
.o0o.
‘How old is she?’ was Viktor’s first question over coffee.
‘24.’
‘So what are you doing with her?’
‘Company.’
‘What are your intentions?’
‘I don’t have any.’
‘Anya? Ksenia?’
‘Dormant.’
‘This Aliya – what conversation would someone that age have to offer?’
‘Plenty. We get on very well.’
Viktor smiled. ‘Hope you know what you’re doing.’
‘I'd appreciate your take on Anya and Ksenia - that's the main issue.’
‘Well, I think you were a bit quick going north with Miss Heathrow when Anya was still technically your fiancee but it did seem to be on its last legs, from what I could observe. It certainly needed a kick start.’
‘Aliya wants to go over some documents for America tomorrow … at my place.’
‘Be careful – there might well be people who’d like to use that against you.’
‘Should I cancel?’
‘Why? It's just business ... isn't it?’
He thought about it. ‘Yes, that's all it can be. How are you holding up?’
‘There are good nights and bad nights.’
‘Come round for soup tomorrow.’
‘You know, I might just do that,’ he smiled. ‘When’s she coming?’
‘In the morning. You come about 13:00 - can you make that?'
.o0o.
Back at his house, the slow lift door creaked open then, near his own door, in the darkness, the light bulb on his floor having been removed by someone who’d obviously needed it for his own flat, he became aware that something was amiss.
The situation had clearly moved on - the door stood at an angle, as a result of having been torn half off its hinges. Everything in the living room had been turned over.
All the technica was still there, surprisingly, but the documents were gone - very interesting but at the same time - sickening. He drove a four inch nail through the door to seal it for the night then crashed onto the divan.
XVII
Marc departed Shadzhara, promising profusely to at least come back in two months, in the New Year.
Nicolette collected him from Orly, he threw his things in the back and reported to her along the way. Looking across and glad someone else was driving, he could take her in, the way she vehemently rubbed the window with her glove to clear the fog. Planes, he thought to himself, have this foreshortening effect in that you can be in a Russian milieu one moment and a few hours later, you’re with an entirely different ethnicity.
He smiled at Nikki.
‘Quoi?’ she smiled back, then looked at the road again, the smile still playing on her lips. Beautiful lips too, he thought to himself. This was the sort of woman he should be involved with and yet he hadn’t done a lot with his own countrywomen – maybe it was temperament.
He gazed through the side window at the boring grass verge flashing by and began to reflect that one land was much the same as another in some ways. Trees are trees, grass verges are grass verges and women are women. Then he realized it was rubbish.
On an impulse, he reached for Nikki’s right hand, took the fingers to his lips and kissed the back of them, causing Nicolette to look across at him curiously.
He gave her back her hand and only spoke again once they’d reached rue de Rivoli, with it’s hundreds of bicycles in a row and wrought iron chain fences behind them, the tall buildings the other side of the cobblestoned path.
Nicolette swung the car into the carpark of one of their favourite watering holes, without even asking him and without him even querying it.
She skipped along in front of him but then waited for him to open the first door, the rituals now completed, finding themselves sitting at a low table, asking him to tell her the whole story.
She wasn’t leaving this place until he did and already outside, dusk was falling.
XVIII
The next morning, about 10:35, there was a knock on Hugh’s brand, spanking new door he’d bought at 08:00 on the dot and had carried back home on his shoulder and if you’ve ever tried that, it’s not easy.
He checked out who it was through the spyhole - Aliya - and she had packets.§ She came through, put the packets down and took off her boots. ‘I’ve been talking with my grandmother. She was appalled at the things you said you didn’t have.’
Out came a green and white bed cover which she said her grandmother didn’t need any more.
‘I only said I was thinking of getting one,’ he protested.
‘Look at the end of your bed.’
It was clear, under the layers covered by the bedspread, that he had no underlay. ‘Right, let’s put it on. Now, you must decide. Predominantly green up or green down?’ He didn’t know what she was talking about. ‘You have to put the underlay down one way only – ever.’
‘Er- green up, white down.’
‘Good, now these.’ Out came a box and inside were two fine-edged bone coffee mugs.
‘You bought these?’
She ignored that and brought out little bits and pieces for his comfort while he just gazed at her, not knowing in the least how to respond. ‘I’m overwhelmed,’ he said quietly.
‘Right,’ she said, taking things to the kitchen, ‘I don’t have a lot of time now but I’m free at 16:30. Are you?’ She caught his hesitation and asked, ‘Did I say anything wrong?’
‘You didn’t but there are issues. I don’t want to frighten you off but I think you’d better hear them. Do you want me to tell you?’
‘If there are issues, you very much need to tell me.’
‘This friendship with you is good because it doesn’t threaten you and it doesn’t threaten me. Am I right so far?’
‘Da.’
‘I haven’t tried to take it to the next step and neither have you. A lot of people won’t accept friendship between a man and a woman and I have to admit that I’m a cynic too. It seems to me that after two people part, then they can be friends with no demands but before that, there’s a lot of speculation.’
‘There is. There has been. Lots of people talk about you and me, that you’re a middle-aged man trying to take me away from my young boyfriend.’
‘Boyfriend?’ he asked.
_______________________________
§ One of the joys for me, with this book, has been to take real people in the situations which actually occurred, using their real names and as far as I can remember, reporting the actual dialogue as it happened. To see that preserved in multiple conversations throughout the book always causes a little chuckle.
For example, there really was an Aliya, she was that age, we did get close, she did come with all those things from home and the first part of that conversation did occur.
There's also been the taking of real situations and placing them in different contexts, sometimes with different characters speaking lines which genuinely had been spoken by someone else. That was plot driven and not quite as amusing.
Chapter 5 here ... Chapter 7 here
HOME
0 comments:
Post a Comment