‘Li Min? Our delegation leader? How do you know him?’
She drew in a deep breath, as if she were drowning. ‘Listen to what I have to say, Chang An Lo, and then you can leave. Last year in China when I was about to set off for Russia to search for my father, a group of your people came to me.’
‘My people?’
‘Yes, your Chinese Communists. They’d heard I was travelling to Siberia. Maybe they had informers in the railway ticket office, I don’t know. But they came anyway. They knew from Kuan, who found out from you, that Jens Friis was my father, and they told me he had designed a secret project to help the Soviet military. Obviously they must have their spies in the heart of the Soviet system, even in the Red Army, but they didn’t know what it was he’d created or where he was being held – in a prison or one of those godforsaken labour camps. Not even whether he was dead or alive. Chang, you have to understand, he was my father and I-’ She stopped herself, snatched a breath and finished quietly, ‘So they asked me to find out.’
Anger, heavy and unwieldy, was churning in his gut.
‘And in return?’ he demanded. ‘What did they offer you?’
‘I asked for you.’
‘Me.’
‘Yes. I asked for you to be kept out of the civil war in China, far away from the Kuomintang army.’ She swallowed and he thought she would look round, but she didn’t. ‘I wanted you safe. I had no idea they would send you here to Moscow, I swear. That came as a surprise.’ She twitched the buttons of her blouse. ‘A welcome surprise. It proved they were sticking to their side of the bargain.’
He moved silently across the room until he was standing right behind her and could hear the catch in her every breath. ‘So that’s why you went into the prison that day to get the letter? The one from Jens about the construction of the project. So that you could give it to Li Min.’
She jumped at the sound of his voice so close but remained with her back to him. She nodded.
‘ Lydia.’
‘I know you’re angry. That you feel I betrayed you and did a dirty deal behind your back. But the thought of losing your life to a Kuomintang bullet was… too much. I couldn’t bear it. And now your Chinese friends have what they wanted, they are leaving and taking you with them.’
She leaned back till her head was touching his cheek and just that simple, intimate movement was enough to break his resolve to give her up. The immensity of what she’d done for him took his breath away. That she’d bargained her own life and that of her father… for his. His arms encircled her injured waist and drew her close against him, fighting to keep from crushing her into his own bones where she would be safe.
‘You’re right, I am angry, Lydia, but not with you, my love. With them.’ He smelled the blood on her and it made his heart weep. ‘I should have realised it wasn’t your past you were protecting. ’
‘No,’ she whispered, ‘it was our future. Yours and mine. But… Chang, we are both created by our past.’
Another knock shook the door and Biao shouted for them to hurry.
Chang spoke urgently. ‘ Lydia, you must decide now. If it’s America you want, we can-’
She spun round, her eyes wide and intent on his. ‘No, not America.’
‘My heart cannot beat without yours beside it.’
‘Is that what Alexei told you to do? To give me up?’
‘He said that with me you would be an outsider.’
She laughed, making the air in the room come alive. In the middle of all the fear and the pain and the danger she laughed, tossing her shorn curls, and the sound of it mended something inside him that was broken. ‘Oh Chang An Lo, I have been an outsider all my life. I used to fight against it, thinking I wanted to belong, but not now. It’s being an outsider that has brought me you.’
He took her face in his hands. ‘Your brother believes you must stay here in Russia, and when I see you here, I know this country is a part of your soul.’
‘Forget what Alexei says. He is not my brother.’
‘What?’
‘Jens told me. He said that Alexei is not his son. That my mother got it all wrong and even Alexei’s own mother lied about it.’ The sorrow on her face flickered like the shadow of a night spirit in the candlelight.
‘Oh my Lydia, in that fire you lost your brother as well as your father.’
She smiled at him, a fragile twist of her mouth. ‘Your gods exacted a high price,’ she said. ‘And now they’re stealing you from me again.’
‘Come with me.’
Her eyes widened. ‘To China?’
‘Yes.’
‘No,’ she said. ‘Have you forgotten? We decided long ago that while you are fighting for the Communists there is no place for a Western girl dragging at your heels. No world in which I could find a place.’
‘There is one.’
‘Where?’
‘Hong Kong.’
The car was crowded and its interior smelled of China instead of Russia. Lydia was pressed tight against the window with Chang An Lo beside her, a barrier between her and the others. His hand had clasped her own the moment they entered the car and though he was arguing fiercely with the one he called Biao, his fingers never left hers.
Her canvas bag lay on Chang’s lap on top of the satchel, as if he would hide her from the Chinese intruders. Biao and another one in black were crowded on the far side of Chang on the rear seat, while three more were in the front. The one in the driver’s seat had a silvery scar where one of his ears should be.
Their voices sounded harsh to Lydia’s ears, a flood of angry Chinese words filling the air between Chang and Biao, friends who were fighting like enemies. She longed to know what was being said but she knew Chang would tell her only as much as he wished her to know. She leaned her head against the window and watched the snow and the streets dissolve behind the mist of her breath. She was frightened of what else might dissolve.
‘Lydia.’
The words had stopped.
‘Tell me what is happening, Chang.’
His hand tightened on hers and he spoke in English, so that none of his compatriots would understand.
‘ Lydia.’ The way he said her name, she knew what was coming wasn’t good. ‘I must leave you, Lydia. No, my love, don’t look like that, it won’t be for long. We agreed,’ he said softly, ‘that we shall meet in Hong Kong. I will be there, I swear. But I can’t travel with you through Russia, they won’t let me.’
She glanced at the heads in front. ‘Not even if we run from these-?’
‘No, no more risks, Lydia. If you and I escape together, these people will hunt us down as we travel the thousands of miles back to China. I won’t put you in that danger. This time,’ he touched her neck, ‘I want you safe.’
‘So what are we to do?’ She glanced at Biao who was staring straight ahead, unwilling to look at her.
‘It is settled.’ He held both her hands in his and so she knew it was bad.
‘Tell me.’
‘I am to travel with the delegation back to China and report to Mao Tse Tung. I have given my word that I shall give them no trouble.’
She smiled at him. ‘Chang An Lo masquerading as a demure lamb, that will be something to see.’ But his eyes held no laughter. ‘What do we get in exchange?’ she asked in a low voice.
‘A guardian for you.’
‘I don’t need a guardian.’
‘Yes, you do. The Russian secret police are searching for you, so-’
‘Who? Who is this guardian?’
Chang glanced at Biao’s sullen profile.
‘No,’ Lydia said sharply, ‘I refuse to have-’
‘Don’t, Lydia, please don’t fight this.’
She swallowed the words on her tongue and saw his dark eyes follow the silent movement of her lips as she struggled to accept what he was saying.
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