Kate Furnivall: The Concubine's Secret

‘Biao will escort you all the way to Vladivostok. With him, you should have no trouble from the Russians. Then down south through China to Hong Kong.’

‘He hates me,’ she whispered. ‘Why would he do such a thing?’

‘Because I have ordered him to do so. I know he will protect you with his life.’

‘Even though he hates me?’

‘Trust him, Lydia. He will bring you safely to China.’

She hung her head and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, drawing her to him. ‘I would give my heart’s blood to travel with you, my love, but it would just bring more danger down on your head.’ He kissed the side of her chopped hair.

‘You’ll meet me?’ she asked. ‘You’ll be there?’

‘I promise.’

‘You won’t change your mind and go off with your Communists again?’

‘No. Not this time.’

Their eyes held and she believed him. It was a risk but she couldn’t live with herself if she didn’t take it. He leaned forward, seeing the belief in her eyes, and kissed her mouth, ignoring the others in the car.

‘Now,’ he said softly, ‘where is your Cossack bear waiting for you?’

The snow had stopped falling. As Lydia walked on to Moscow ’s Borodino Bridge in the southwest of the city, cars rumbled past with chains on their tyres and a pale watery sun sat low on the horizon as though it had no strength to struggle any higher. She felt a rush of relief when she saw the Cossack waiting for her and he bared his teeth at her approach. Had he feared she wouldn’t come? That she wouldn’t keep their agreed meeting, here among the cast-iron boards listing the heroes of the 1812 war?

‘I’m not locked up in the Lubyanka yet,’ she smiled.

Lubyanka prison was the nightmare of Moscow, a handsome yellow-brick mansion where dungeon interrogations took people apart piece by piece in ways they had never imagined possible.

‘Don’t mention that stinking place,’ he growled and his single black eye studied her. ‘You look a mess.’

She ignored him. ‘Hello, Elena.’

The woman standing beside him had her arms folded and she was staring at the strands of hair poking out under Lydia ’s hat, but she made no comment. ‘You got here,’ was all she said.

‘So, Liev. Off to the Ukraine?’

‘ Da . It’s still got real people in it. Fuck Moscow. It’s no more than a Soviet machine.’

Lydia put out a hand and touched his granite chest with her fingertips. ‘Take good care of yourself, my friend.’ She looked up at him. ‘Are you feeling better?’

‘Like a spring lamb.’

She laughed.

‘And you?’ he asked, drawing his beetle brows together.

‘More like an old goat.’

He nodded, fingering his beard thoughtfully, and she noticed it was singed into a lopsided mat. Suddenly a narrow face popped out from behind his back.

‘Whose car was that you came in?’

‘Edik! What are you doing here? And Misty.’ She ruffled the pup’s feathery ears. ‘The car belongs to some rather unpleasant companions of my Chinese friend.’

Popkov scowled. ‘They’ve taken him?’

She nodded and stared down at Popkov’s ancient leather boots, the howling wolf tooled on their sides. ‘Liev,’ she said softly, ‘you knew about Alexei all along, didn’t you?’

He grunted.

‘That he wasn’t my brother. You knew all along. That’s why you were such a bastard to him.’

He grunted again.

‘You should have told me.’

‘ Nyet. I couldn’t. It made you happy.’

Her throat felt too tight. She said nothing more. A horse and cart clattered past, scattering a spray of filthy grey snow over them, and Misty barked. The world was still moving.

‘I’m going to grow wheat,’ Popkov announced.

‘You?’ Lydia smiled. ‘A farmer?’

‘We’ll learn,’ Elena asserted confidently. ‘Edik is going to help us, aren’t you, boy?’ She gave him a dig in his skinny ribs and he laughed.

‘If you force me to,’ he grinned.

Lydia looked at the family of three, at the warm pride in Liev’s battered face, and she envied them. ‘Be happy,’ she murmured and found it hard to let him go. Liev kept staring at her, then switching his gaze to a laden barge lumbering up the Moskva River, then staring at her again.

‘What is it, Liev?’

The Cossack stretched his shoulders and rumbled something inaudible into his beard.

‘The thing is,’ Elena said stiffly, ‘he won’t come without you.’

Lydia closed her eyes and swayed back and forth on her feet.

Elena hadn’t finished. ‘He wants you to come with us.’

Lydia rubbed her hands as if it were the biting wind swirling off the river that was making her shiver. ‘Chyort! Liev, are you out of your mind? Me on a farm? Don’t be an oaf. I’m not a peasant with straw for brains. Go and play with your shovels and your hoes on your own, dig your holes without me.’

It was fleeting but she caught the look of relief on Elena’s face.

‘What will you do?’ Popkov’s deep voice was strained.

‘Oh, I’ll be safe, don’t worry. I’m going back to China.’

His black eye narrowed and like an old bull he shook his head, as if it had suddenly grown heavier. ‘You were desperate to get out of China. You said you hated it there.’

‘I lied.’

‘Let the girl be, Liev.’ It was Elena. She was assessing Lydia with a half smile on her lips. ‘It’s not the place she loves, can’t you see? It’s the person.’

‘But-’

‘No buts! Stop fussing over me, you stupid Cossack,’ Lydia complained. She pushed him away. ‘Off you go to the Ukraine.’ She smiled brightly, surprising herself, even laughed a little. ‘Have a good life. Thank you for everything.’

She spun round and walked away. But she’d not gone more than ten paces in the direction of Smolensk Square before she was plucked off her feet. She was dangled over the icy ground, enveloped in a great greasy embrace, and with no breath in her lungs she clung to him. As each second ticked by he crushed her harder to his chest, growling softly in his throat.

Just as suddenly he put her down. She thrust Dmitri’s gold ring into his pocket. ‘To buy some land,’ she said, then walked away and didn’t look back.

Lydia started to walk across the city but soon realised she hadn’t the strength to make it as far as the Arbat. So she climbed into an izvozchik , one of the horse-drawn taxi cabs, and settled its thick rug over her knees, arms wrapped around her bandaged waist. It was an uncovered vehicle, open to the elements, but that suited her. The snow had stopped and she liked the wind, cold in her face. The sky looked grey and old as it hovered over Moscow ’s roofs, and she felt a tug of dismay at the thought of leaving this city she’d fallen in love with.

The easy rhythm of the horse’s hooves was slow and restful, and it gave her time to think. She closed her eyes and let her mind open the way Chang An Lo had taught her, but still the images of the raging fire pressed in on her, the flames leaping in her face and roaring in her ears. Instead she clutched at the feel of her father’s hand in hers and the echoes of his voice when he said I love you for coming for me.

‘Papa,’ she whispered, ‘I’ll come back.’

One day she would. She didn’t know when or how, but she would. Russia had entwined itself into the fibres of her being and she could no more stay away from this city of domes than she could from the black soil Popkov and Elena would be churning up in the Ukraine.

A cart rumbled past in the street and the sound of a car’s klaxon brought her back to what lay ahead. She had to see Alexei. He was with Antonina in her apartment and Lydia needed to speak to him. She was angry with him for telling Chang to give her up but – she opened her eyes wide and felt her chest tighten – but despite Alexei, Chang would be waiting for her in China. She drew a deep breath and said aloud, ‘Be there, my love. Be there. For me.’ Once back in China she feared his country and his gods might steal him away from her.