Mishka Ben-David - Forbidden Love in St. Petersburg

Men were attracted to me but I knew that there were women who were more beautiful than I was. All I wanted was a husband who would love me. And this dream, too, was shattered. We got married and tried, but the love died, as love does, without drama, just with pain. I wanted a baby and was forced to forgo that wish as well and live my life without. I didn’t have many desires left, nor did I have the will to stand up to the KGB.

She waited for my response. In the world of spying, as in the world of crime, there is a clear hierarchy. Agents of my sort–we call them ‘operatives’–are mostly contemptuous of every kind of informer, the collaborators. My only response was to tighten my embrace.

In the Yeltsin period, and when the KGB was supposedly dismantled, I thought that I was free of all that, she continued. But the FSB told me that I ‘belonged to them’ and that given my failure against internal subversion I was being transferred to the counter-espionage division because I might perhaps have less sympathy for foreign spies. After all, I was a patriot. But the change didn’t work out with you, again a sad smile spread across her face. When you appeared you awakened a dormant desire in me, a hope I had already stopped believing could be rekindled. Suddenly I was prepared to fight for a dream that had been brought back to life. For love, perhaps a family. Now she too tightened her embrace.

But weren’t you in danger when you produced no results on various suspects?

Of course I was. The methods didn’t change and as you can see nor did the people. The higher command and the name changed, that’s all. And on quite a few occasions I did come up with the goods.

You…

After the dismantlement of the KGB I didn’t work as a full-time agent. I worked in a large bookshop on a part-time basis, with the books I loved. If there was a suspect they would call me. I’d work on him for a while, finish, and then return to my beloved books. The management of the shop could not, of course, refuse.

The tormented woman’s eyes closed. I understood her hesitations and her actions so well. I completely identified with her.

You’re very tired, and there’s only one bed, though it is a double, I stroked her head. If it doesn’t suit you for us to sleep together, I’ll sleep on the couch in the living room.

If you want an old love in your bed, one who’s aged thirty years in the space of just three, and who has nothing to give, I’ll be very thankful, Anna said, looking down at the floor.

I’ve been waiting for you night after night, I said, and tonight there won’t be a man on earth happier than me.

My darling, she said sadly, thank you, though you don’t yet know what a wreck you’re getting.

Like spoons? she asked when I embraced her, in bed, and I trembled with love.

THE LIGHTS AND sounds of the city that never sleeps streamed in through the bedroom’s large window and cast a pale light across the darkened walls. Step by step during the night, between bouts of snatched sleep, hugs and caresses, Anna completed her story, a mirror image of my own spying mission–the view from the perspective of the opposing camp’s counter-intelligence that every spy would give his eye teeth to get hold of. The person behind this chain of events and who steered them with quiet confidence was now lying next to me in her gaunt nakedness almost asleep as she talked.

The counter-espionage team tailing me had followed my footsteps to Vashkirova’s restaurant. When it became apparent to them that I ate there regularly, the decision was taken to bring Anna into the picture. She was not allowed to approach me, the idea being that she would arouse my interest but that it would be me who approached her, so avoiding my becoming suspicious.

There were young women who could perhaps have tempted you but would have aroused your suspicions, so they decided on me. They thought I was approximately your age and that it would be easier for you to open up to me. But you ignored me for an entire week, she said complainingly, which is when we decided to bring in the ‘suitor’. Do you remember the two who came to the restaurant and one of them approached me? They were our people. We thought this would kindle your interest in me and you would make some sort of a move–but you did nothing. You can’t imagine how unattractive I felt because of you and how angry I was with you… I’m just joking. The truth is that you got a great deal of professional credit for this and it was decided to mobilize additional resources to crack your cover.

A week later we sent people to the restaurant to occupy all the available tables so that there would be no alternative other than for me to be seated next to you…

I’m surprised, Anna, why did your people invest so much in me?

The counter-espionage division wasn’t happy about the thaw in relations with America. Catching an American spy would provide them with excellent ammunition that could be used against the various groups of liberals and that made it worth their while to invest in you. When I saw you were reading Demons I was pleased. I was familiar with the book but I leafed through it again before the conversation with you. After that evening I thought I’d thrown out enough bait for you to bite at. For professional reasons I stepped back, but you too did the same. What kind of gentleman did that make you?

I remembered her unease and reserve after the evening we happened to sit at the same table with our books, and my sense that it would be very ungentlemanly of me to use the seating problem as a way of continuing the contact with her.

One evening I thought that I’d already been exposed, she continued. When Alexei dropped me off near to the restaurant and you suddenly appeared–I was sure you’d seen the car and that the operation would collapse. But you didn’t say a thing, and this strengthened my feeling that you were an innocent businessman, unaware of such subtleties.

I did notice, I told her now, and was in two minds what to do about it. But I wasn’t convinced and decided not to ask. By the way, did you also go to such great lengths when we went to the opera?

Anna caressed my face. Are you angry? You have every right to be. Everything I told you about my studies at the Conservatoire was true. And my views about Dostoyevsky really are my own. But yes, I prepared for our visit to the opera. About ten unfortunate people didn’t go to the opera that night. A number of counter-espionage personnel went to their homes and took the tickets away from them. Those sitting around us were from counter-espionage. And all of that for them to say a few words to me about the death of my husband which would sound genuine to you.

That was amazing, I was forced to admit. I think there’s a thing or two you can teach our Shin Bet. They want to interview you tomorrow.

Please no! Anna said, looking frightened, as she curled up like a beaten dog that’d just absorbed another blow. Please no! I can’t and don’t want to see anyone else involved in this field. I don’t want to speak to them, brief them, be asked or have to answer any questions, please, I’m begging.

I will try, Annushka, I will do whatever I can so that it doesn’t happen. No one’s asking you to supply information. I think there are simply some formalities that need to be completed concerning the exchange of prisoners.

No, no, please! Her anxiety was so great that in my mind I began quickly to run through the list of people I could approach to save her from this ordeal, among them those who certainly owed me no favours given the way I’d ended my service. Anna won’t go there, I ended up saying to myself. And it doesn’t matter what I have to do to make sure of that. Again I was promising something without yet knowing how to make good on the pledge, but I knew that this was a promise I would most definitely keep.