Mary Nichols - The Kirilov Star

‘Lydia, where are you off to in such a hurry?’ Claudia’s voice brought her to a standstill. ‘Running to catch a train, are you?’

Lydia laughed. ‘No, trying to keep out the cold. How are you? How’s Reggie?’

‘We’re fine. I’ve just got off the bus. Christmas shopping.’ She held up two loaded carrier bags. ‘How about you?’

‘OK. I’ve just been to the carol concert at the school. I went every year when the children were there.’

‘I know.’ She looked closely into Lydia’s face. The wind had whipped the colour into her cheeks but, as usual, her eyes gave her away. ‘Come home with me. Warm yourself up and let’s have a chat.’

‘Chat? What about?’

‘This and that.’ She took Lydia’s arm and Lydia went without protest.

‘Now,’ Claudia said, when they were in her small sitting room nursing cups of tea. ‘Tell me how you’ve really been getting on. And remember it’s me, Claudia, you’re talking to.’

Lydia laughed. ‘I hate the empty nest, especially now Robert’s gone.’

‘Bobby and Tatty will be back for the holiday, won’t they?’

‘Of course. And I mean to make it as happy a time as I can under the circumstances.’

‘You will. You always have. But there’s more, isn’t there?’

‘I don’t know what you mean.’

‘You’re not brooding over that girl, are you? What’s her name? Pamela Osborne.’

‘No. I don’t think about her at all. And it was no more than I deserved.’

‘Whatever nonsense is that?’

Lydia gulped a mouthful of hot tea. It would be so good to tell someone. ‘You remember Alex?’

‘Of course I remember Alex. You’re going to tell me he’s alive, aren’t you?’

Lydia stared at her in astonishment. ‘How did you know?’

‘I saw him. On the day of your father’s funeral. That’s why you fainted, wasn’t it?’

Lydia nodded. ‘I didn’t know you’d seen him too. I thought he was a ghost.’

‘I take it you’ve seen him again.’

‘Yes. Twice.’ She went on to explain the circumstances. ‘I kept away,’ she finished. ‘I had to. It wasn’t fair on Robert.’

‘Robert’s gone, Lydia. And you are being foolish. I know how you feel about Alex. I’ve always known.’

‘How many other people knew?’

‘Sir Edward, I should think, perhaps Robert, but that’s about it. Why would anyone else know? It makes no difference. What is important is what do you intend to do about it?’

‘Nothing. What can I do? The children—’

‘They are not children anymore, Lydia, and they are busy leading their own lives. Given the chance I bet they’d understand.’

‘It’s too soon.’

‘For goodness’ sake, go to him,’ Claudia said. ‘You are free, Robert’s gone and he had been playing you false, so you go to Alex. You deserve some happiness after all you’ve been through.’

‘I’ll think about it.’

‘No. You’ll get in your car and go now.’ She stood up and took the cup and saucer from her. ‘You don’t have to tell Bobby and Tatty yet.’

What Claudia was advising was so close to her own desires, she wavered. It wouldn’t hurt anyone, would it? Just to go to him, see how he was, let him know that if he still wanted her, she might, sometime in the future… Somehow she found herself out on the pavement and Claudia was waving her goodbye from the door. She dithered more than once on the way home, but her car was standing in the drive and it was full of petrol. She got in and drove to Northacre Green, eager and yet half-afraid.

Twice on the way she pulled into a lay-by and sat undecided whether to go on. It was not her feelings she doubted, but her sense of right and wrong, her scruples. She had betrayed Robert; would going on betray Bobby and Tatty? How could she do this to them so soon after their father’s tragic death? Going on would be making a commitment. It would change everything; she would not, could not keep it a secret. Where would it lead? To strife with her children? Was she ready for that? She almost turned back, but then she remembered what it was like to be in Alex’s arms and the enticement of that was too much to resist. She drove on.

The gate to the smallholding was wide open. She turned in, stopped the engine and sat a minute to still her fastbeating heart. Supposing he was out, should she wait or go home? Supposing he no longer cared. It had been so long… The door of the cottage opened and he stood on the threshold, waiting for her, as he had always waited for her, and simply opened his arms. She scrambled from the car and ran into them and was enfolded.

The sheer ecstasy of their reunion told her all she wanted to know. The years rolled away and they were young again, making love, talking non-stop, laughing at each other’s jokes, drinking wine and tea and making love all over again. Only later, when they had both calmed down and they were sitting at the kitchen table over a cup of coffee, did he tell her about the letter. ‘Do you believe in fate, Lidushka?’ he asked.

She laughed. ‘You mean, “There’s a divinity that shapes our ends, rough-hew them how we will”?’ She paused to consider. ‘Yes, I suppose I must, after all that’s happened to us. Why do you ask?’

‘Because when you arrived, I was debating whether to write to you or come over and see you, and here you are, saving me from having to make the decision.’

‘Why were you thinking it today especially?’

‘Oh, don’t think I haven’t had that same debate every day since I learnt of Robert’s death. But today there was a special reason. Do you remember me speaking of my friend, Leonid Orlov?’

‘Yes, he helped you when you came out of Siberia.’

‘I received a letter from him today. Goodness’ knows how he managed it but it came via the diplomatic bag. It’s amazing the number of pies he’s got his fingers in. It enclosed a letter for you from Yuri.’

‘Yuri!’

‘Yes. It’s sitting up there.’ He nodded towards the mantelpiece where an envelope was propped against the clock.

She jumped to her feet and snatched it up. He watched as she slit it open and read it, quickly the first time, then more slowly. ‘Olga’s dead,’ she said. ‘She confessed the truth before she died. He says he found it hard to believe, but he wants me to write to him. He wants the story from me. Oh, Alex!’ Tears blinded her and she could not read anymore. She groped for his hand and he took it and squeezed it.

He remained silent while she recovered herself and read the letter again. ‘Why did it come through your friend?’

‘Leo has kept an eye on Yuri, watched over his development and made sure he fulfilled his potential. It was to Leo Yuri turned after Olga made her revelation, and I suppose he confirmed the truth of what she had said. I imagine he was one angry young man.’

‘I would be angry too, except that I’m too happy. Oh, Alex, I must write to him at once.’

‘Wouldn’t you rather go and see him?’

She stared at him. ‘Alex, you can’t mean it.’

‘Leo thinks it’s possible. You have to be invited through official channels but Leo says he can manage that. Things are a lot easier since Stalin’s death. Relations with the West are thawing, thanks to Khrushchev, who has opened up international trade and cultural contacts never allowed before. There is to be a trade conference at the beginning of February in Kiev and Leo says he can invite me onto that as an agriculturist, with Foreign Office approval at this end. I think I can wangle that. Leo suggests I put you down as my personal assistant.’

‘But I know nothing about being a PA.’

‘Doesn’t matter. I don’t know much about agriculture. Are you on?’