Brian Freemantle - The Blind Run

‘I don’t think you properly heard the words, on the telephone,’ she said.

‘I did,’ said Charlie. ‘And it wasn’t words. It was just one word.’

‘I think myself I’d take the chance,’ said Natalia. ‘I have taken the chance. I can’t risk Eduard.’

Resigned now, Charlie still tried. ‘What if it wasn’t a risk to Eduard?’

‘Can you guarantee that?’ she asked, almost desperately. ‘Can you guarantee that you could protect us both, forever?’

They were at the Kalininskiy bridge. There were bordering seats and resting places and without any discussion they went towards a seat and sat upon it, all the while without Charlie talking.

‘You haven’t answered,’ she said.

‘No.’

‘So?’

‘I was thinking,’ said Charlie. ‘I was thinking that if I didn’t love you so much how easy it would be to lie. To say yes, that I could guarantee it.’

‘I’m glad you didn’t,’ said Natalia. ‘Because I’d know it was a lie and I don’t want you to lie to me, not any more.’

‘I didn’t lie,’ said Charlie.

She felt out for his hand, all the comfort and contentment back between them now. ‘Stop it,’ she said, softly chiding, not angry like she had so often been recently. ‘I know there was no other way. We just shouldn’t have got involved, not like we did. Lost people shouldn’t find lost people, that’s all.’

‘I want you to listen now,’ said Charlie. ‘I’m concerned for you, because I love you but I want you to listen because of Eduard, too. Because if anything happens to you then it happens to him, as well.’

Natalia sat with her head forward, not even looking at the river but she didn’t protest about not wanting to know as she always had in the past. Charlie was glad of her attitude, which he hadn’t expected but which made it easier, because it made him sure of her and by the same token knew that she was sure of him. So she wouldn’t doubt him. And she couldn’t doubt him, not for a moment, if she were properly to withstand the interrogation and the pressures that were going to come.

Charlie lied easily, because they were easy lies, just slight but vitally important deviations from the truth that fitted all the facts and all the circumstances. He knew how good she was – what her training was – and although he appeared to be as deeply enclosed as she was Charlie was alert for any reaction from her: for the sort of challenge that her questioners would make, very soon now. There was no dispute from Natalia and Charlie hoped more desperately than he had ever hoped for anything that it meant it would work and there wouldn’t be any way she could be exposed.

‘It means I made a mistake,’ she said. At once, defensively, she said, ‘I wasn’t given enough time. Everything was rushed.’

‘Then it’s not your fault.’

‘No,’ she said, doubtfully. ‘It wasn’t my decision.’

‘There’s us,’ he pointed out.

‘Yes,’ she said.

And then Charlie told her how to account for that, as well, on easier ground now because outright lying wasn’t involved. He was still tensed for her to expose a fault but she didn’t and when he finished Charlie hoped it was because that part of the story was as good as the earlier account and not because her emotions and feelings were clouding her usual alertness.

‘Now?’ she said, emptily.

‘Now,’ said Charlie. He felt the surge of despair and fought against it because it was too late for despair now. They’d recovered what they’d known before because of their acceptance of the end; there was no turning back because there was nowhere to which they could turn. Conflict upon conflict, ifs upon ifs. ‘You understand the importance of the timing, don’t you?’ pressed Charlie. ‘The timing’s got to be precisely right.’

‘Yes,’ said Natalia. ‘I understand about the timing.’

They remained unspeaking on the embankment seat. The light was going now and the shadow from the vast Comecon building stretched like a barrier across the Moskva River, a hurdle for the still busy boats to cross. Her hand was still in his and Charlie didn’t want to let it go.

‘I love you, Natalia,’ said Charlie.

‘I love you, too, my darling,’ said Natalia. She stopped and then she said, ‘And I know I’m going to regret what I’ve done – or what I haven’t done – for the rest of my life.’

Charlie turned to her, hurriedly, about to speak but she squeezed her fingers with his and said, ‘No! Don’t say it. Please don’t say it.’

‘Why can’t you come?’ he said, ignoring her plea.

‘Why can’t you stay?’ she said, defeating him. ‘My loyalty isn’t the only barrier. There’s yours. I’ve already given more than you have. Why can’t you give?’

‘You know I can’t.’

‘Then you know I can’t.’

The shadows on the river got deeper, obscuring the smaller boats altogether. They remained side by side, their hands linked, neither wanting to be the first actually to break the final, inevitable contact.

‘Timing is important,’ repeated Charlie.

‘Then you should go.’

‘Yes.’

‘I wish we could make love,’ Natalia blurted, suddenly. ‘Not like last time. Not like a lot of times recently. Like it was before, when we were like this.’

‘It doesn’t have to be tonight,’ said Charlie.

‘Yes it does,’ she said immediately. ‘Trying to hold on to what we’ve got now, this moment, won’t work…’ She gestured out towards the river, where the evening mist was already forming, in competition to the insect swarms. ‘It’s like that,’ she said. ‘Like the evening fog.’

Charlie made the moment of parting, knowing he had to. He withdrew his hand, positively, not looking at her and said, ‘It’s lucky, that we chose to walk along the river.’

‘Yes,’ said Natalia, consciously trying to put the briskness into her voice. ‘Morisa Toreza is quite near.’

Charlie stood, forcing himself like she was doing. ‘Remember the time,’ he said. ‘They’ll know almost immediately. Don’t wait.’

For a moment they remained looking at each other, Natalia still on the bench, Charlie standing but apart from her, not trusting himself to be too close.

‘I don’t want you to kiss me,’ she said.

‘No.’

‘Just don’t say anything. Do anything.’

Charlie stayed where he was, for a few more moments, knowing that he would never see her again and wanting to etch everything into his mind and then he turned and found the main highway and walked towards the British embassy on the Morisa Toreza. He walked shoulder-slumped, for once in his life careless of anything around him, reluctant actually to get to the security of the British legation but committed now because Natalia’s safety depended upon him reaching it at a certain time. He knew for a long way she would be able to see him – and he her – but he never turned back. By the time he reached the embassy the professionalism had taken over but much of it automatic, right up until the actual moment of entry, which had to be right.

There were still cars and people about, which he wanted and in passing Charlie wondered how much of the passing traffic was genuine and how much official. He crossed carefully, long before the embassy entrance, approaching on the same side but appearing to take no interest in the approaching building. There were uniformed Soviet personnel near the entrance which Charlie hadn’t expected and couldn’t remember from his previous time in Moscow. He strode on, confidently, with no break in his stride, the turn into the compound abrupt yet still confident, a man accustomed to the route and unprepared for any challenge.

None came.

Charlie hurried into the vestibule, anxious to gain official British territory. There was the reception desk and security personnel, but British this time. The receptionist was a man. He looked up, blank-faced, towards Charlie and said, ‘Can I help you?’