1
Two days later I was a guest at Pavel's home. The whole family was at the table, drinking tea. Pavel's wife Nina was just discharged from hospital, her face was still pale and worn out, she spoke little, mostly was staring into space, just sipped from her big cup and unwillingly answered in monosyllables my simple questions. Pavel was livelier, but as if a bit absent-minded, the strain of the previous days had taken its toll. Both had dark shadows under their eyes and avoided looking at each other, they seemed to want to speak out and didn't know how to do it. At first I thought it was due to my presence and tried to wrap up my visit as soon as possible, but Pavel asked me to stay longer, and it didn't seem just politeness, I had the impression that leaving them alone wouldn't ease the tension, on the contrary. It was Nina who excused herself – 'feeling unwell' - and left us.
"Still didn't get over it, eh?" I said.
Pavel shook his head:
"It was too hard on her. She needs time to recover."
'How is the boy? What's he doing?"
"Asleep. You'll see him, if you stay a bit longer."
"Sure, I'm looking forward to seeing him and doing a bit of wrestling."
He started telling the news of his department, the biggest of which was Lena's defection.
"What? Defection? I can't believe it! I think, it's a deep cover operation, like she did before."
"This time it seems she's taken the initiative. I spoke with her boss, he's furious, I've never seen him in such a state."
"But what exactly did she do?"
"She ran away with Hewlett. She wrote a letter to her chief to explain her action. She sees no sense in working for Russia's secret service anymore, she does it strictly for personal reasons, not for money, so she doesn't consider herself a traitor, she's met the man of her dreams, wants to be a good wife and mother and all that stuff. So, it all seems serious and convincing." He added after a pause, looking at the window:
"And, frankly speaking, I can understand her."
I sat with my head in my hands. The blow was hard. Pavel looked back at me and said:
"I'm sorry, boy, you didn't deserve it."
I thought: "Yes, I deserved it."
2
I was distracted from my grief by the appearance of little Anton. His voice was shrill and cheerful:
"Sergey, are you ready to fight?"
I looked up. Anton, in his pajamas, stood in the doorway, his blond hair disheveled, his big blue eyes glistened like raindrops.
"Come here, my little brave man, my hero", I said. Anton came running and flung himself into my arms. I raised him into my lap and touched his cheek with my lips. The boy's skin was hot and fuzzy like that of a peach in the sun.
"Where have you been?" he said. "I was waiting for you. I've been preparing myself for revenge."
"I suppose you're ready?" I said, stroking the boy's tousled hair. "I heard you were captured by bad men, and behaved courageously."
He moved uneasily and looked back at his father. I followed his example. Pavel stared at him with wide eyes and made a reproaching grimace saying soundlessly with his lips: 'don't!"
I said in low voice:
"It's better to talk about it than to ignore it, that's common strategy to let them overcome the shock."
Pavel smiled forcedly at his son and said:
"Yes, he behaved well. Now, before you start wrestling, I'm going to bring you your clothes." He lingered a bit and went to Anton's room.
Anton sat still for a while with his head dropped onto his chest, then suddenly he neared his mouth to my ear and whispered:
"I wasn't captured. I spent the night with my granny, it was a game. But it's a big secret, don't tell anybody. Do you promise?
I raised my head. Pavel appeared in the doorway with the clothes in his hands. He stiffened as he saw Anton whispering something into my ear. I bent to the little boy's ear and whispered with a faint smile, fingering his other little ear and looking blankly at Pavel's narrowed eyes:
"I promise."
3
About six months later, glancing through The Daily Telegraph I ran into a short article in crime news. The name of Hewlett drew my attention. It ran under the headline "Arms magnate Robert Hewlett lost his second wife in six months":
"Mr Robert Hewlett's second wife, a Russian beauty Elena, age 26, was found dead this morning in her bedroom in their West End flat. Mr Hewlett was away on a hunting trip in Wiltshire. As revealed by a police source, the woman, who was five months pregnant, had been killed presumably during the night. Her housemaid who came to do the daily cleaning routine, found the body in bed and called the police straight away. The same source in the police claims there are no suspects at the moment. The detail that left no doubt as to the violent nature of her death was a stiletto stabbed under the woman's left breast."
4
Two weeks after I received a phone call from Mary. After the customary polite words she said:
"In two days we're coming to Moscow to sign a contract. I hope you'll be with us."
"I hope so too," I said.
The End