Faithless (34 page)

             
Vinogradov turned, surprised to be greeted in his native tongue. He replied, "Yes, how did you know?"

             
John smiled apologetically, "Your English. You have a slight Russian accent."

             
Vinogradov smiled back. "Of course. And you - your Russian's good, but you have a slight English accent."

             
"It's a long time since I had the opportunity to speak it."

             
"Well in that case it's lasted. Where did you learn it?"

             
"Here at University, but I lived for a year in Moscow."

             
Vinogradov turned to his English companions and excused himself for speaking Russian. They were accommodating and appeared interested in John and slightly suspicious. Vinogradov said to them, "Your countryman here has addressed me in my own language. Excuse us." Then he turned back to John. "I didn't know many Universities here offered Russian."

             
"Not many."

             
"Why did you choose to do it?"

             
"My teacher at school knew Russian. He learned it in the Army after the War."

             
"For the War that was coming?" he said sharply.

             
"For whatever reason. But, he was a great admirer of all things Russian," 

             
"Did you study literature?"

             
"Of course."

             
"Who did you like best?"

             
"Chekov I think- Dostoyevsky too."

             
"You prefer them to the later Soviet writers. So do I, though I am not supposed to say that of course," said Vinogradov. "I'm taking it you don't work for the KGB, so I should be safe. Though, perhaps not in the earshot of the comrades behind us. One of them might understand and report me."

             
"I sell maps," offered John.

             
"Maps? How fascinating. Maps are classified documents in the Soviet Union you know. I won't be buying any from you."

             
"I'm always looking for a new sales opportunity. Do you think there's an opening in Russia for maps?"

             
"You would get arrested. Mr?"

             
"My name is Richard McIntosh. I have a card. In case you change your mind."

             
"It's not my mind that needs to be changed. "

             
Richard offered Vinogradov the cover business card with his phone number on.

             
Vinogradov looked at it, studying it and then he said, "I'm heading back to London tonight,"

             
"Perhaps we could meet up there?" said John.

             
"Perhaps we could – along with your lady friend over there." He nodded over to where Ailsa was sitting.

             
John felt cold. Vinogradov smiled thinly. "I am glad you made contact with me Mr McIntosh. I have waited a long time. But you need to be more careful with your tradecraft. In Moscow this amateur work would get you killed."

Later in the car as they drove back to London, Ailsa was in high spirits. "We did it - good old us." John had told her what Vinogradov had said about shoddy tradecraft. She dismissed it. "We weren't in Moscow. There was no one watching us and it wasn't as if we needed to spend time cultivating him. He was a ripe plum ready to drop He had already signalled to us that he was interested in coming over."

             
John changed lanes. "Do you think this is a provocation?" he asked.

             
"Vinogradov being deliberately fed to us by the KGB? It's a possibility. I don't see why though. We just have to analyse the material he produces and see whether it's good stuff or chicken feed."

             
"Do you think he'll use the phone number?"

             
"Does it run into our offices?" she asked.

             
"Yes it's one of the agent lines in the secretaries room."

             
"If I were a betting woman - and I am - I would wager he will."

They came off the motorway and into outer London. "Do you mind dropping me off at home?" she said.

             
"No."  It was out of his way but he wanted to see where she lived. He'd have to drive the car back out of London to his home in Finchley afterwards, but he wasn't planning on delivering it back until the next working day, so he had the time.

             
She directed him to Holland Park. "Just here, turn down into Phillimore Gardens." John looked at the street of elegant houses with their white pillared doorways. "It's just here."

             
He peered forward. "Which one?"

             
"Just up there. Not far. You needn't drop me right outside."

             
"It's not a problem. I can."

             
She smiled and shook her head. "No need."

             
"I'll help you with your case," he said.

             
She raised her eyebrows. "I'm not a little helpless woman. Just stay in the car," she said sharply.  She got out and opened the boot to take out her case.

             
He got out.

             
"I told you I don't need your help," she said, half smiling, half irritated.

             
"Ailsa," he said, "what are we going to do?"

             
She turned and said, "I don't know what you're talking about."

             
Then she walked off, waving at him but not looking.

He drove back up to Finchley and parked the Cavalier outside his house. He opened the door and called "I'm back."

              Instead of Karen he heard Angie Swain answer. She rushed up to him. "Oh John, thank God. We couldn't get in contact with you. We even phoned your office but they said they couldn't tell us where you were. They said they'd get a message to you.

             
"They didn't. Where's Karen? Where's the girls?"

             
"The girls are asleep, don't worry. Joe's been here with me. He's just gone out to get some milk. Yours was all sour."

             
"Where's Karen, Angie?"

             
"I came over the night you went away but she was in a very low mood. She kept crying. I got really worried and in the end I called  Joe over. He said we should call a doctor."

             
"Has she been sectioned?" he asked.

             
Angie shook her head. "No. She's in Friern Hospital, but she went of her own accord. We tried to persuade her it was for the best. I was really worried John. I thought she might harm herself if we left her."

             
"But the girls are ok?" he demanded.

             
"Yes."

             
"I'm going to see them."

             
"Be quiet though. They've just gone to sleep."

John felt anger surge towards Karen. He opened the bedroom door and Eilidh and Morag were in their cots sleeping soundly. Eilidh was snoring with a gentle whistle. He went over and g
ently kissed their sleeping heads.             

             
He heard the front door open and Joe's voice asking about him. He went out to see Joe. He hugged him and said, "Thank you. And thank you Angie for all that you've done. I'm so sorry I couldn't be contacted."

             
"We thought it was best. I think hospital was right."

             
"She can't be left alone with the girls," said John. "Ever again."

             
"I don't think she'd ever harm them," said Angie.

             
"She's tried to kill herself before. She might try to take them with her."

             
Joe and Angie were shocked. "I didn't know that," said Joe. "But I know she loves them. She wouldn't do that."

             
"Karen's not very stable when she gets like this."

             
"Try not to be angry at her John," said Angie.

             
"I'm just scared. Scared for my girls."

             
"And scared for Karen too," said Angie.

             
"Sure, of course. But mostly about them."

             
"I didn't know she'd tried to harm herself before," said Joe.

             
"Why would you? It's not the sort of thing you broadcast. She isn't looking after the girls properly. She leaves them alone in front of the fire while she goes off and reads."

             
Angie winced. "I think you're being a bit hard."

             
John ignored her. He said, "I need to be here to watch her."

             
"Will you go and see her tonight?" asked Joe.

             
John shook his head. "I'll go tomorrow. I'll phone them when you've gone to see she's ok. But first I'm going to phone my mother to see if she can come down and help."

             
"Ok John. Can I get you a drink?"

             
John shook his head. "There's some beer in the fridge if you want some. I don't want any. Thanks again. We'll be ok."

             
"We can stay as long as you want," said Angie.

             
"I appreciate that, but we'll be ok." He smiled grimly. "I might not be at work tomorrow."

John's mother arrived the next afternoon. He met her at King's Cross Station. She cried and hugged him at the station, and cried and hugged the twins, taking them out of their buggy one by one. They looked disgruntled but he was pleased they didn't wail. He drove home. She looked around the house with a critical eye. "I do like Karen, but she doesn't keep the house very nice," She took off her coat and hung it up. Then she said, "What can I get you for your tea?"

She cooked him egg and chips. She was delighted to be able to look after him again. She was e
ven more delighted to look after the girls.  After eating, John made sure his mother was happy looking after the twins. It was still a fine summer evening and she was planning to put their sun hats on and push them around in their double buggy. They had tried a buggy where one twin sat in front of the other but the one behind always got cross. They now had a side by side buggy so that neither girl felt neglected. The width made it difficult to get through shop doorways but it was fine in the park. John said he would be back in an hour or two and drove the car up the road to the Friern Hospital.  He entered through the gatehouse. There was a pleasant park stretching in front of the long Italianate building and he could see patients gardening in the evening sun under the watchful eyes of the nurses. Karen was staying in a separate hospital built on the grounds called the Halliwick Hospital.

             
Karen was dressed in her own clothes. He met her in the day room and they sat at a table in the corner while patients and some staff watched Coronation Street on the TV in the opposite corner. A nurse brought Karen a cup of coffee but they didn't ask John whether he wanted one. Karen lit up a cigarette.

             
"You've started smoking?" said John.

             
"I have for a while, secretly like, without you knowing. It relieves the stress."

             
"It's not good for you Karen."

             
She puffed out smoke. "It's the least of my worries." She looked up at him. " So are you going to take my babies off me?"

             
He shook his head. "Why would I do that?"

             
"You don't think I'm safe to look after them. Don't deny it. I know. Is your mother down?"

             
He nodded.

             
"I bet she's loving it." She flicked ash on the floor. "I'm glad someone is. Send her my love. Will she come and see me?"

             
He shrugged. "It's hard because she won't be able to get here unless I drive her. And then what would we do with the girls?"