Cervena (22 page)

I vaguely remembered seeing Tomáš on the podium with a guy groping his crotch before the pair disappeared upstairs, and I wondered if this was Tomáš’s new boyfriend.

“I’m glad.”

“So… you’re leaving.”

“Yes. In a few days.”

“And Sasha?”

“He’s going too.”

“So he’s all right? You didn’t tell us much before, but I thought something had happened. You looked terrible. Still do.”

“Thanks. Sasha was taken by the men who had Karel killed.”

The color drained from Tomáš’s face and his eyes widened. “Where is he?”

“Safe now. Beaten, but otherwise he’s okay.”

“I want to see him!”

“I don’t think—”

“He’s my friend. If nothing else, I want to be able to say good-bye properly. Is he at your place?”

“No.” I explained quickly about Vincenc and the penthouse, and Tomáš made to go back inside.

“I need to tell my man I’m going out for a while. Can you give me two minutes?”

“Of course. Will you do something for me? Sasha was bringing most of his things to my place and I have his bag, but will you check if there are any of his clothes or personal items left in his room?”

Tomáš nodded and ran into the building. While I waited, I wondered if the sight of Sasha might shock Tomáš too much, but it was only fair to give them the opportunity to see each other one last time. I could at least warn him.

“It looks worse than it is,” I explained as we traveled back to District 4 in another cab. “There’s a lot of bruising and his eyes are too swollen to open. But he has no serious injuries.”

Tomáš stared at me, pale and worried. “I can’t believe this has happened. I hate Karel.”

“You and me both. But he’s gone, so we all need to look to the future.” I pulled out my wallet to pay the driver as he stopped the car at the end of the tree-lined drive. This time I was able to let myself in, and I took Tomáš straight up to the room where Sasha lay. I carried the plastic bag containing the few items Tomáš had collected from Sasha’s old room.

“Oh God,” I heard Tomáš mutter under his breath.

“Sasha, I’m back.” I hurried to sit on the edge of the bed and took his hand. With Sasha covered to the neck by a sheet, the bruising on his face appeared more vivid against the white fabric surrounding him. “Tomáš is here.”

“I must look terrible.” Sasha grimaced and winced.

“You always did. No change there.” Tomáš teased, but his expression belied his tone. He hurried around the other side of the bed and hovered, taking Sasha’s other hand. “It won’t be the same without you. Either of you.”

“I’m sorry.” Sasha licked his lips.

“Don’t be stupid, man. You bagged a hot rich guy and you’re off to a new life.”

I raised my eyebrows, and Tomáš mouthed “joking” in my direction.

“Tomáš!” Sasha hissed, appalled.

“He’s joking.” I was glad Tomáš was trying to keep the mood light. I lifted Sasha’s hand and kissed his knuckles. “I’ll leave you two to talk for a little while and find something to eat. Perhaps you could manage something, Sasha.”

“Yes, please.”

“Tomáš?”

“No, thanks, I’ve had plenty to eat this morning.” Tomáš sniggered and lowered himself into the chair beside the bed. “I got a new man, Sasha. Wait until you hear.”

Reluctant to leave Sasha again so soon, even for a few minutes, I hovered by the door. But he needed to catch up with his friend, and I needed to make sure he ate and regained his strength. I forced myself to leave the room and went downstairs to find the kitchen. A woman looked up from one of the counters, where she was slicing bread.

“Mr. Jones. I am Danica. Are you hungry? I’m making food for Sasha.”

“Oh! Thank you. Yes, I could eat a sandwich.”

“It’s sausage, cheese, and salad.”

I nodded again and thanked her. She quickly finished putting together the sandwiches and placed two plates on a tray. Glasses of juice and a plate of sliced cake were added, and I took the tray from her.

“I will be here until you leave. Let me know when you need meals or anything else.”

I thanked her once again and hurried back upstairs. When I entered the room, Sasha was laughing softly at something Tomáš had said. Despite Sasha’s battered face, his smile and humor made him seem a lot better. I set the tray on the table beside the bed, and Tomáš and I helped Sasha sit up. Sasha ate carefully, nibbling tiny bites of the sandwiches and wincing in discomfort, but he managed to eat every crumb.

Tomáš stayed a couple of hours. When it came time for him to leave, both boys wept, and again I felt a lump in my own throat. It brought home to me how much I was leaving behind, but at the same time my future with Sasha would be safer, and close to my family. For that, I couldn’t wait.

“Tomáš, do you use Facebook?” I asked before he went down to the cab I’d ordered for him.

“Of course I do.”

“So you can keep in touch with Sasha that way. Sasha can use my computer until he has one of his own. This doesn’t have to be good-bye.”

Tomáš grinned. “Maybe I can visit one day. If things keep going well with Boris, he could come too.”

“I’ll make sure we have a guest room in our new place,” I promised.

“Yeah, I’d better get back to Boris now. He said he’d wait, but I don’t want him to be too bored.” Tomáš glanced at his watch. “We’ve got time for a few more rounds before I have to get ready to dance.”

Sasha laughed. “You’re obsessed with sex.”

“It’s been too long since I had it on a regular basis.” Tomáš slipped away while we were still laughing.

“How long do we have to stay here?” Sasha asked.

“Just until you’re comfortable enough to travel.”

“And until I look something like my passport photo. Shit! My things!”

“I have your bag, and Tomáš brought the rest of your belongings from your studio. Everything is here.”

Sasha sighed with relief. “My passport was in the bag I had with me that night.”

To put his mind at rest, I checked the bag I’d placed in the corner of the room and found his passport in a small zipped pocket on one end. “It’s here. Now you have nothing to worry about except getting better. In just a few more days, we can leave and go to our new home.”

Chapter Fifteen

SASHA SLEPT
off and on for long periods over the next few days. The nurse checked his wounds and administered pain relief when he needed it, and Danica spoiled us with delicious food whenever we were hungry. The bruises on Sasha’s body faded from purple into green and yellow, and the swelling on his face reduced so he could open his eyes again. He moved around carefully, nursing his ribs, but I thought he’d be well enough to travel in another day or two.

While Sasha rested and began to recover, I looked into what he would need to do to obtain entry clearance and a work visa for the UK. He admitted somewhat shamefully that although he’d had a work permit for Poland, he’d never sought one for the Czech Republic, and I shuddered at the thought that both of us could have been in serious trouble. I hadn’t even thought to check he had the appropriate paperwork other than his passport. This time, things would be different.

Unfortunately the process required Sasha to complete an online application form and once submitted to attend an appointment in person in one of the five offices in Russia. He hated the thought of going back, however briefly, but there was no choice if he was to live and work in England. St. Petersburg offered the one fast-track service that could be processed in as little as two or three working days if no problems were discovered. Sasha reluctantly agreed to let me book flights for us for a few days’ time, when he’d feel up to the journey. I found a decent hotel for us to stay in and applied for a visitor’s visa for myself.

I’d called the police to tell them what I’d agreed with Vincenc, and predictably they weren’t pleased, although they were at least happy to hear Sasha was safe. They wanted to interview him as soon as possible, and I reluctantly agreed to take him to the station when he was well enough. I explained we would be leaving for Russia as soon as Sasha was able to travel, and then continuing on to England after his required documents were obtained. They had no objection to us leaving the country, so long as they were able to get Sasha’s statement before we left, and that we would be contactable in England.

A couple of days after the conversation with the police, I heard on the news that Piotr Kowalski and his employee, along with two other men, had been arrested and locked up without bail, pending investigations and trial. The same day I had a call from Vincenc to check if I knew, and to let me know he’d found a manager for the club. The new man was a local businessman, recently made redundant from a failing independent hotel.

I called my sister to let her know I’d be coming home for good, doing my best to make light of the reasons, but Rosalyn had always been good at getting things out of me. I’d been forced to admit Sasha had been kidnapped and beaten, and that I’d sold the club to pay for his release, even though it turned out I hadn’t needed the money. Rosalyn was delighted I’d be moving back into the guestroom for a while, and couldn’t wait to meet Sasha. When I finished talking to her, I booked tickets to St. Petersburg. The awful few weeks I’d endured faded into the background, and at last I had something to look forward to again.

The day before we left, we both went to make full statements at the police station. Sasha and I agreed that he’d plead innocence and say only that he knew the people who took him were trying to get money out of me that my partner owed. He claimed to not understand Polish or Czech well enough to be aware of what was being talked about by his kidnappers and left it at that.

Finally it was over, and I made a brief call to Vincenc to thank him for his hospitality and his help. He made a car and driver available to take Sasha and me to the airport, and we arrived in style in the back of a limo. Sasha climbed out slowly, careful of his ribs, but other than a hint of shadows around his eyes, his face looked normal. We checked in, and I called Rosalyn to let her know we were on our way to St. Petersburg and that I’d update her once Sasha had attended his appointment with the visa application center, which was scheduled in two days’ time.

That evening we checked into a hotel in St. Petersburg, sharing a two-room suite at Sasha’s insistence. He feared that if we made it obvious we were together, it would only cause us problems due to the antigay views of many Russians. Of course, once we were behind locked doors, we shared one of the vast canopied beds, snuggling in each other’s arms.

The next day we spent a few hours sightseeing, taking the opportunity to explore the beautiful city we’d been forced to visit temporarily. Even though neither of us were really in the mood to look at the stunning, elaborately constructed buildings with their colorful spires, it passed the time and helped take our minds off what was to come.

The following morning I waited impatiently while Sasha attended his appointment at the visa application center. I’d provided a letter stating he would have a fixed address and permanent employment in England, and I’d given my cell phone number for verification. No call came, and as the hours passed, I grew anxious. What if they wouldn’t grant him the visa?

But eventually he appeared, pale and strained but with a small smile on his lips.

“Sasha! What happened?” I hurried to him, stopping myself just in time before I grabbed him in my arms.

“It took ages. There were a lot more questions than I expected. It was about me leaving Kaliningrad so long ago and working in Poland. I had to lie and say I hadn’t worked in Prague because I had no papers. They might have locked me up!”

“Hell, don’t joke,” I groaned. “I was partly responsible for that. I should have checked and made sure you had the correct paperwork when I gave you a job.”

“Well, it’s too late now. I said I lost my job in Wroclaw and traveled over the border as a visitor, intending to seek permits when I arrived. But I ended up homeless, which is true anyway. But it’s okay. They granted the visa. I can collect the documents in two more days. I have to go in the late afternoon.”

“Thank God.” I glanced around, but there were too many people close by for me to risk hugging him. “Let’s go back to the hotel. I need to call Rosalyn and tell her. We’ll get room service and relax for the rest of the day.”

My pounding heart calmed as we returned to the hotel, and by the time we reached our room, both of us were grinning. I hadn’t considered how much trouble Sasha could have been in with the authorities if it had come out that he’d worked for me without a visa. Over the past few months, I’d flouted or fooled the law several times, through either carelessness or desperation, and it was only luck and the help of a criminal that had got us this far.

“WHAT IF
they don’t like me?” Sasha looked anxious as the plane circled Heathrow three days later, gradually descending as it waited for a landing slot.

“My family? They’ll love you.” I took his hand and squeezed. “My sister can’t wait to meet you. Her husband’s a good man; generous and kind. And you’ll adore Rachael. Don’t worry, they’ll welcome you with open arms because they know I love you.”

Sasha smiled, but he didn’t relax. He remained tense and nervous as we disembarked, collected our luggage, and spent a couple of hours with an immigration officer. Sasha presented his documents, and I explained that I was both personally and financially responsible for him until I invested in a new business and employed him. The whole thing was more straightforward than I’d imagined, but by the time we caught a train to the nearest station to Rosalyn’s house, he was exhausted.

Rosalyn stood on the platform waiting, a big smile on her face as I struggled with four cases, refusing to let Sasha carry even the smallest in case he hurt himself. He hung back as I swept Rosalyn into my arms and swung her around as if she were a child.

“Put me down, you idiot!” she cried, and I lowered her again. “It’s so good to have you back. Rachael will be stoked you’re home for good.”