Kestler looked across the car to Charlie. ‘You sure as hell don’t seem very enthusiastic about this!’
You’ve got enough – and more – enthusiasm for both of us, thought Charlie. ‘Don’t you have an expression in America – something about nothing being over until the fat lady sings?’
Kestler appeared to consider the question. ‘I’m not sure it fits.’
‘That’s always the big worry, something that doesn’t fit.’ Charlie couldn’t think of anything the Russians had overlooked or failed to make allowance for. But his feet ached worryingly.
There had been a secondary conference after the departure of the Westerners, the outrage at their inclusion strongest from the two spetznaz commanders unable to comprehend any reason for Western outsiders being involved. Close behind came the antipathy of Aleksai Popov, fuelled by the anger at being wrong-footed by some of Charlie Muffin’s demands: he was fairly confident he’d covered himself from most of the people in the room but knew he hadn’t with Natalia because they’d discussed and analyzed every preparation he’d made in advance. The Foreign Ministry man’s weak and personally unfelt justification of political necessity for the Western involvement didn’t placate any of them. The belief that the leak to Germany and Italy had emanated from Moscow was virtually unanimous.
Popov arrived at Leninskaya earlier than Natalia had expected, less than half an hour after she’d returned with Sasha. He held the towel and helped dry the child after her bath and afterwards solemnly examined the animals she’d drawn that day to accompany the letters of the alphabet she’d been taught at the creche and declared they were the best he’d ever seen. He sat easily at the kitchen table while Sasha ate.
‘There was a lot of posturing today,’ said Popov.
From everyone, thought Natalia. ‘Yes.’
‘I said it was a mistake to include them, didn’t I?’
‘It hasn’t proved to be, not yet.’
‘It’s something we should give serious consideration to in the future.’
How much I wish I knew what was going to happen in the future, thought Natalia. ‘Perhaps.’
‘You all right?’ he demanded, suddenly. ‘You seem… distracted about something.’
‘I am thinking about Thursday,’ avoided Natalia, easily.
‘When you handled him before… Muffin, I mean… was he this arrogant?’
Not then. Nor today, Natalia thought. Every point Charlie made had been valid, although she remembered being unsure at the beginning. ‘The first time he was acting a part.’
Sasha scrambled down from the table and disappeared into the corridor. They remained where they were. ‘Why did you suggest they come to the ministry on Thursday?’
‘To ensure we knew where they’ll be,’ replied Natalia, at once.
Popov smiled, approvingly. ‘That was very clever.’
Sasha re-entered the kitchen loudly demanding they look and Natalia was glad that Popov did because it prevented his seeing her alarm at the sight of the doll Charlie had brought the previous day.
‘Anna,’ announced Sasha, proudly, offering it for Popov’s closer inspection. ‘My baby.’
Natalia watched helplessly as Popov accepted the doll, still smiling. ‘A very pretty baby.’
‘The man gave it to me,’ said Sasha. ‘The man that made Mummy cry.’
Unthinkingly holding the doll on his lap as he would have held a real child, Popov frowned across the table. ‘What…?’
‘The man who talks like you and Mummy do sometimes. Funny talk.’ She giggled, involved in a grown-up conversation.
Popov seemed to become aware of the doll. He handed it back to Sasha, all the time looking steadily at Natalia, waiting.
Natalia had to plumb the absolute depths of the debriefing expertise that had taught her how to respond instantly to a situation while at the same time remaining in control of it, knowing the essential requirement was to minimize the lie as much as possible. ‘He came here, yesterday. Unannounced…’
‘WHAT?’
The fury roared from Popov, even making Natalia, who expected it, jump. Sasha gave a tiny shriek of fright and then a whimper, like she had the previous day. She clutched out for Natalia, who lifted the girl on to her lap. Calm, Natalia told herself: she had to feign just the right amount of affront, at Charlie Muffin’s impudence, but above all stay calm. ‘Their embassy obviously have records on us, like we have upon their sensitive people. He had the doll for Sasha. His excuse was having been here before. To Moscow…’ Desperately she tried to remember every detail of the sanitized records she knew Aleksai had read far more recently than she had. ‘… He wouldn’t have known, of course, that it was me who exposed his defection as a deception. He said he hoped I hadn’t been caused any trouble. That it wouldn’t affect our working relationship now…’ Enough! Don’t lie too much or say too much!
Popov stayed staring at her, unspeaking, for so long that Sasha made another tiny mewing sound and clawed up to bring her mother’s arm tighter around her. ‘Natalia!’ said the man, finally, his voice whisper-thin. ‘How did he know you had a daughter!’
The abyss opened before her, black and bottomless. ‘The same records where he got this address from, I suppose…’ She strengthened her voice. ‘I didn’t bother to find out! I asked him to leave and he did. It obviously had nothing whatever to do with the past. Apart, perhaps, from his thinking he might be able to use it to get an advantage the American hasn’t got. Which would have been ridiculous…’ Inspiration came abruptly to her. ‘But then you were surprised today by his arrogance, weren’t you?’
There was another long silent appraisal. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’
Gentle mocking, she decided: a reminder of priority. ‘Darling! It happened yesterday evening! Immediately after which we got the definite date for the robbery. Which meant people had to be told… the military summoned. And today’s conference arranged. Don’t you think one was just slightly more important than the other? This is when and where you were going to be told. As you are being told.’
‘She said you cried.’
Natalia forced the snorted laugh, holding back from tightening her hold of Sasha and praying for the child not to understand and try to contribute. ‘She says your farmyard animals talk to her. The longest conversations are with the horse.’ Don’t say anything, darling! Just sit there without saying anything! There was no sound from Sasha apart from the occasional slurp of her sucked thumb.
‘What are you going to do about him?’
Natalia forced the quizzical look, like she was having to force everything else. ‘Do? Why should I do anything? He overextended himself and ended up looking foolish… being humiliated. That’s enough, isn’t it?’
‘I think there should be something more public: that his embassy be told.’
‘No,’ refused Natalia, feeling the ground firmer under foot. ‘Making the rebuke public would give the episode an importance it doesn’t have. His embassy – or more likely his people back in London – might expect him to try something like this…’ She smiled for the first time. ‘With luck he might have even told them he was going to try it. Having to admit failure to them himself would be far more humiliating than our making an official complaint. That would make me look stupid.’
‘And you’re going to let her keep that?’ he demanded, nodding to the doll the near-sleeping Sasha still held.
‘Aleksai! It’s a toy! You expect me to throw it away? Or send it back to the embassy? Come on! This was a silly little incident of no importance.’
The atmosphere, of Popov’s making, lessened and finally died during the evening. They opened a second bottle of wine during dinner and there was no reserve at all when they made love, but then Popov never made love with any reserve. Afterwards, when she thought he’d drifted into sleep, he suddenly said, ‘I overreacted, earlier. I’m sorry.’
‘Let’s forget it.’ How much I wish I could, she thought.
chapter 17