‘Your skin,’ he said, matter-of-factly. ‘A vegetarian diet is so cleansing, as you’re about to find out for yourself. Think of it as a detox.’
Sasha touched her fingers to her face. Her complexion had always been clear and trouble-free, which her mother put down to their diet, but Jack certainly sounded like he would recognise any change.
‘You don’t have to worry,’ she said. ‘Day one has already begun.’
A lock of hair had come loose from her grip. Jack brushed it behind her ear.
‘So, what did you have for breakfast?’ he asked.
‘A kind of last supper,’ said Sasha.’ Muesli. Toast. Steak.’ She waited for Jack to look truly horrified, before her earnest expression melted away. ‘I’m kidding,’ she said. ‘We carnivores know how to eat a balanced diet.’
Jack presented her with the Tupperware box.
‘This is what I call balanced and ethically sound,’ he said. ‘I hope it’s going to make a life-changing impression on you.’
‘That reminds me,’ she said, accepting the box. ‘All of a sudden my dad is really keen to meet you.’
‘Cool,’ said Jack. ‘I’m sure they want to know who’s showing their daughter the light when it comes to meat-free living.’
Sasha peered at the box, wincing slightly at what he’d just said.
‘I’m pleased you’d like to come round,’ she told him, ‘but it might be best to steer clear of the subject of food. My parents have strong views, too, and I’m keen that everyone gets along.’
Jack considered this for a moment, before gently clasping Sasha by the sides of her head and drawing her close to kiss her forehead.
‘I promise to be on my best behaviour,’ he said, and slipped her arm around her waist. ‘Now, why don’t we go find my car so you can start the transformation?’
‘You make it sound so permanent,’ said Sasha, as they turned and headed for the sixth form car park. ‘I only agreed to go veggie for a month.’
‘Let’s see how you feel then,’ said Jack. ‘I’m confident that you won’t look back.’
14
That evening, Oleg Fedor Savadski reached the foot of the stairs from the upper floor, and wondered where he was. He looked around, his dressing-gown sash hanging loose around his pyjamas.
‘Goddammit,’ he muttered to himself. ‘They must’ve moved the bathroom again.’
Oleg knew that his mind was beginning to falter. Little things in his daily life had become a test for him, such as the whereabouts of his spectacles or the name of the thing that hung from the ceiling which glowed when he hit the switch. Of course, he knew it was the light bulb. Like the location of the bathroom, it would quickly come back to him. Even so, as he shuffled along the landing, Oleg wished he could do something to restore his wits.
It was the sound of gunfire and explosions that prompted him to stop outside Ivan’s bedroom. Despite his forgetfulness, Oleg’s memory of the Siege was vivid. Just hearing the crackle of a weapon transported him to the ruins of Leningrad in a blink. Without knocking, he opened the door and looked in on his grandson. Ivan was sitting on the edge of his bed with a videogame controller in his hands. His eyes were locked on the screen across the room. It showed some frenzied military skirmish, and was the source of all the noise.
‘Hi, Grandpa,’ he said, without looking around. At the same time, he squeezed a trigger on the controller. The sound of bullets spitting from a clip filled the room for a moment. ‘Are you looking for the loo again?’
‘It can wait,’ said Grandpa, watching the action on the screen. ‘Good game?’
‘Great game,’ said Ivan, who had yet to blink. ‘I love this level. If I can take out every mercenary I’ll get a weapons upgrade and then I’m practically unbeatable.’
‘Can I play?’
Ivan hit the pause button. The noise gave way to silence. Ivan faced his grandfather, surprised by the request.
‘Really?’
‘Got to keep my reflexes sharp somehow.’ Oleg closed the door behind him. ‘Now make room for an old man and pass me the other controller.’
It took a little while for Oleg to get to grips with the game. Thrilled that his grandfather should show an interest, Ivan patiently explained what to do, and even suggested that they fight on the same side.
‘I’ll be your wingman,’ he said. ‘Lock and load, Grandpa!’
‘The action is a little over the top,’ said Oleg, who was leaning forward to focus on the split screen in front of them. ‘But it reminds me of the old days, that’s for sure.’
For a moment, the pair focused on taking out an incoming wave of mercenaries.
‘What was it like?’ asked Ivan next. ‘During the war?’
‘Grim,’ said Oleg. ‘Like hell on earth, with just a taste of Heaven every now and then.’
‘Sniper on the tower,’ warned Ivan, and promptly took out the target with a headshot. The body dropped from its position, hitting the floor like all the bones had left its body. ‘See ya, sucker!’
‘God rest his soul,’ said Oleg quietly, but it was enough to draw a glance from his grandson. ‘So, what happens to the corpse now?’ he asked.
‘Nothing,’ said Ivan with a shrug.
Oleg looked back at the screen. Smoke drifted across the battleground, which shook as a nearby airstrike hit a building. With a sigh, he set the controller down beside him.
‘There is a lot of death in this game,’ he said. ‘With no respect shown to the fallen.’
Finding himself without a partner, Ivan mashed the controller buttons in a bid to stay alive.
‘What do you suggest?’ he asked. ‘We bury him while the bullets fly?’
‘No,’ said Oleg. ‘We should eat him.’
For the second time since his grandfather joined him, Ivan paused the game.
‘This isn’t real,’ said the boy. ‘It’s fun.’
Oleg clasped his hands in his lap. He stared at his thumbs, turning them over and over.
‘No death should be taken in vain, as we all hope you’ve learned after what happened at the weekend.’ He watched the boy press his lips together, nodding at the same time. Then he waited for Ivan to meet his eyes once more. ‘Ivan, if a life must come to an end then the body should be treated with ceremony. Your father wasn’t unaffected by the disposal of the model. He was forced to take that action for the sake of his son, but it moved him deeply.’
‘I know,’ said Ivan quietly. ‘He hugged us all a lot the next day.’
‘It’s a shame we weren’t able to consume her,’ said Oleg, ‘In the early history of mankind, a friend or a foe would be feasted upon as a mark of respect. Long before burial and cremation became popular, that’s just how things were done.’ He stopped there for a moment, seemingly lost in thought. ‘Of course, I had no choice but to revive the ritual as a means of survival, but after the Siege it grew to mean so much more to me, and to my family.’
‘How was it?’ asked Ivan, who had been listening closely. ‘The first time?’
Oleg chuckled to himself.
‘Awful, tortuous, unbearable,’ he said. ‘Your grandmother and I were close to death ourselves. We were gaunt, weak, beyond hope, and struggling to stay alive in a city with more bodies than the living. All the food had gone. There was nothing left we could eat. Nothing but…’ He paused to reflect for a moment. ‘Slowly, it became something that many people considered, but only a few put into practice. Some say it was mostly young mothers desperate to feed their children, but I didn’t see that for myself. We had thought about it for some time, of course, but always dismissed it as going beyond the limits of humanity.’