He heard the fear in her voice. But he was eerily serene as he grabbed his underwear and trousers and pulled them on. ‘I’m just opening the door,’ he called out.
As a drowning man reviews his entire life compressed into an instant, Benya relived the happiness of the two years he called his Second Coming: his Pushkin classes – the best job of his life, the sharing of his love of literature with young people; his wanderings through bookshops and flea markets; the pleasure in finding a volume, and being able to afford it. Even Genghis Khan as he plundered another rich city filled with gold and jewels could not have enjoyed a prize as much as Benya bearing home a new book in triumph. And then the hours of lovemaking with Agrippina.
He opened the door. Agrippina, quite forgetting she was naked, had covered her face with her hands as the Chekists in blue uniforms poured into the apartment. Benya gathered his few possessions in the carpet bag he already had packed. He could see that the plain-clothed chief investigator was fascinated by Agrippina and, quite honestly, who could blame him?
‘Get dressed, girl!’ said the bald-headed Chekist. ‘Where’s your Bolshevik modesty? You’ve done your bit. Now scram!’
‘Benya, I had to—’ But Benya, now fully dressed and ready to go, waved her away. He could imagine the pressure the Organs had brought to bear on her. The threats they’d made.
‘Agrippina, I wish you luck. Never let this hold you back. Promise me that.’
Her eyes lowered, she dressed quickly, and was gone.
Golden stood alone in the cage in the back of the black crow van (on which was written ‘Eggs Milk Groceries’), freefalling into the abyss, normal life ending. Something occurred to him: Agrippina had managed to come twice even though she must have been anxious. Even Judas hadn’t managed that! In the rumbling half-light of the van, he smiled admiringly as he remembered her brazen hunger for pleasure even under stress. What nerve! Then he shook his head with a maudlin fatalism. He knew what lay ahead, and how a man who has risen from the dead once could not count on pulling it off again.
EARLY MORNING IN the Lubianka. A delicate, fair woman sitting stiffly, alone and silent in a room of plain wooden chairs, a glass wall, damp patches on the yellow wallpaper, paint peeling stiffly like oversized flakes of dry skin. She looks at her watch. She has been here for forty minutes already but she will happily wait here all day.
She has a bag on the seat beside her and she opens it several times, checking and rechecking obsessively that everything is there. With every creak, echo, footstep, she turns to look at the door, tenses, twitches, listens, and then subsides again, face in her hands.
The door opens. A plump female warder enters in a brown coat.
Tamara Satinova stands up, terrified that they’ve changed the plan. But then, after a moment, there’s Mariko, dazed, pale, and still in her school uniform.
‘Mariko!’ cries Tamara, rushing towards her.
‘Mama!’ Mariko runs into her mother’s arms.
Don’t cry, don’t cry, Tamara tells herself. Don’t make things worse.
Tamara sits down. Mariko is on her knee; two warders stand watching, arms crossed; a guard in blue tabs at the door. Tamara kisses Mariko on her face, her forehead, her temple, her hair. Her hands are shaking.
‘Mama, when can I come home?’
‘Soon, Mariko. Soon. But I can come and see you twice a day.’
‘But, Mama, what am I doing here?’
‘We cannot know about the investigations of the Organs but they know what they are doing and as soon as they have finished, they will send you home.’
One of the warders blows her nose.
‘I want to come home now. I’m frightened.’
‘Papa sends his love. He says you must treat it like an adventure, like
‘I don’t want to stay here. It’s horrible.’
‘I know,’ said Tamara. ‘I know – but you must be brave. Now…’ She is trembling with the effort of not weeping. She sets her jaw to stop the spasm of tears.
‘Mama, you look funny. You’re shaking.’
Tamara nods as she turns to her string bag. Just concentrate on practicalities, she tells herself. ‘Are you warm enough?’ she asks.
‘No, I’m cold in my room. And the bed is horrible.’
‘Right, so first here is a dressing gown, pyjamas and a sweater for you to wear and stay warm. Do you want to put on the sweater now?’ She helps Mariko put it on. ‘You must be hungry, darling.’
‘The food was vile. I couldn’t eat it.’
‘Here’s bread, your favourite cheese and biscuits, and yogurt. And fruitcake. All from Gastronom One.’ They shop there often. Mariko opens the cake and starts to eat a piece.
‘I won’t be able to sleep, Mama.’
‘You must try, darling.’
‘I’m missing my dogs and my School for Bitches.’
‘Well, look who I’ve got for you! Hello, Crumpet!’ She pulls out a black-and-white dog.
Mariko smiles for the first time and grabs the toy.
‘And who’s this?’
Mariko takes the next dog and hugs it with the first.
‘And hello!’ Tamara pulls out another
