Rosa and the Veil of Gold (4 page)

“God, Rosa, don’t do that,” he said, jumping out of his seat.

She sat very still, getting her balance, then took her hands off the railing and waved them about.

“Come down,” he said.

“You wouldn’t be worried if we were on the ground floor.” Giddiness flooded in as she imagined the drop behind her; a thrill of danger that was almost sexual slipped up her spine.

Daniel sat down again, putting his hands over his eyes. “I’m not watching.”

“I’m leaning back,” she teased.

“I’m not watching.”

Foiled, she jumped down. “Okay, you win.”

Daniel peeked between his fingers then removed his hands. “I forgot about your stunts.”

“I didn’t do many stunts in London.”

“Climbing that tree in Hyde Park?”

“I was perfectly safe.”

“You shimmied out on that tiny branch. I thought it was going to break and you were up twelve or fifteen feet.”

“Fifteen,” she said. “At least.”

His voice softened. “You ruined what was meant to be a romantic evening.”

Rosa butted her cigarette and dropped it over the balcony railing. He had contravened the talking about “us” rule, so she ignored him. The butt spun away towards earth. “Oh, yeah, it is a long way down. I wonder what it would feel like to fall that far.”

“You’ve been skydiving. You know what it feels like.”

“To fall that far without a parachute,” she said. “I wonder what it feels like to hit the ground.”

He was quiet and she let the quiet draw out between them. Buses roared, car alarms squealed, trains thundered underground. The clouds moved back in and began to spit lightly. She sat next to Daniel under the awning and picked up her coffee. It was cold.

“How’s work?” she asked.

“It’s okay,” he said, nodding slowly. “It’s a job.”

“What’s the program called?”

“
Great Medieval Cities.
”

“Interesting. What other cities are you doing?”

“I’m only working on Novgorod. They’ve done Istanbul and Rome and…some other places, I’ve forgotten. They wind up in London in winter, I think. But I won’t be around then.”

“What are you going to do instead?”

He leaned back in his chair and wouldn’t meet her eye. “I’ve been offered a job researching for language videos. There’s travel involved, and it could be ongoing.”

“That sounds good.”

“Do you think so?”

“Don’t you?”

“It would take up a lot of time. I wouldn’t be able to finish my thesis. Or my other projects.”

Rosa considered him as the rain grew heavier and bounced off the awning. His dark unruly curls, his serious eyebrows, his bitten fingernails pressed against his soft lips. She knew how warm those lips were and reminded herself to stay cool. He turned his gaze to her and she smiled. “Daniel, you aren’t finishing those things anyway.”

“But I might.”

“Might you?”

“Well, not if I take the job.” Then he sighed and shook his head. “You’re right, you’re right. I haven’t worked on my thesis in a year and as for the novels and the screenplay…”

She recognised the tone of self-irritation in his voice. “Be nice, Daniel.”

“I’m so—”

“Kind,” she offered quickly. “Patient, passionate.”

“Indecisive,” he said. “Dithering, a non-starter.”

Rosa shook her head.

“It’s true,” he said.

“Well, decide on something then,” she said. “Take the job.”

“I don’t know…”

She sighed theatrically and spread her hands out. “Then I can’t help you. But, you know, Uncle Vasily has a collection of gorgeous red wines. You want some? We could put on a load of laundry and drink out here in the rain until Em returns.”

“That sounds great.”

For the next hour they drank wine and filled each other in on the last six months: he carefully weighing his questions to probe her about her sex life, she carefully hiding all evidence of its vigour and frequency: tinkers, tailors, soldiers, builders, wait staff, pastry chefs, three ballet academy graduates on an end-of-term drinking binge, and a couple of adventurous American college girls in the park late one Sunday. Rosa gathered Daniel hadn’t seen anyone else since they split, which was a pity. The quicker he was over her, the easier she would find it to let him go. As matters stood, the temptation always existed that she could tell him everything, reveal all those hidden truths, and be vulnerable to his conviction that any obstacle could be overcome.

When the day’s light had bled from the sky and all the streetlights below had flickered into life and the rain had set in heavily once again, they moved inside to put the clothes in the dryer, then returned their attention to the bear.

“So what should I tell Vasily?” she asked, positioning the bear directly in the beam of a downlight over the kitchen bench. It took on a haze which looked almost holy.

“I don’t know, Rosa. I’m not the expert you want me to be. Tell him to take it to a museum.”

“He won’t.” She slumped forward on the bench, her head resting on her arm as she considered the bear.

“You can tell him it’s gold.”

“Yeah, and he’ll want to melt it down and make cufflinks.”

“Don’t let him do that.”

She ran a finger over the curved belly of the bear. “I feel drawn to her,” she said softly. “I feel she’s important.”

“Because she zapped you?”

“Maybe. Or maybe because I feel sorry for her. Poor thing, shoved in a hole with her butt in the air for a hundred and fifty years. It isn’t very dignified.”

A knock at the door. “That will be your ride home,” Rosa said in what she hoped was a light tone. “Can you let her in?”

Daniel opened the door for Em, who clutched at least a dozen bags in her hands.

“Wow,” said Rosa. “You’re serious about your shopping.”

“And I’m wet again,” Em said, dropping her bags. “The rain got heavy just as I started back.”

Rosa helped her with her coat. “You want another shower?”

“No, just a towel this time. Your coat kept most of it out.” She shrugged out of the coat and Rosa hung it by the door.

Em nodded at the bear on the bench. “Is that it? This mysterious artifact Daniel spoke of.”

“That’s it,” Rosa said from the hallway where she was fetching a towel.

“Ouch.”

Rosa hurried back. Em was sucking her middle finger and Daniel was gazing at her astonished.

“It zapped you,” Rosa said.

“It certainly did.”

Rosa paused to think. First herself, then Daniel, then Em. But not Vasily; not Larissa; not, to her knowledge, any of the men at the site. “Why you?” she said under her breath, but Em caught it.

“What do you mean?”

“She’s marked all three of us.”

“Marked us?” Em was beginning to look sceptical and Daniel embarrassed, so Rosa shrugged it off.

“I’m full of silly old wives’ tales. Ask Daniel,” she said, handing Em the towel.

“No, no. Don’t be dismissive. Is there another explanation for the electricity? Daniel?”

Daniel turned his palms up. “I’ve no idea.”

Em smiled. “Perhaps she has marked us then. Thank you for the towel, Rosa. Did Daniel manage to deduce where and when your bear was created?”

“Not really,” said Daniel. “I have a ballpark figure, but I’m not particularly confident about it. It really needs to go to a museum.”

“But my uncle won’t hear of it,” Rosa added quickly.

“A museum would have the right experts and the right equipment,” Daniel said.

“Vasily’s afraid the government will take it from him, and it might be worth a lot of money.”

“How about a compromise,” suggested Em. “Daniel, what’s the name of that professor we’re going to see at the end of the month?”

“Professor Gergiev, at Pomor University in Arkhangelsk.” Daniel turned to Rosa. “He was my Masters supervisor for a little while, back in England.”

“He’d know, wouldn’t he?” Em said. “And he’s at a university…they might have equipment to analyse the metal. If there are traces of other materials in it, they might suggest a provenance. Might also suggest the reason for the zap. It would make good television.”

“Wait, wait,” said Rosa. “Uncle Vasily won’t let you take this to Arkhangelsk.”

“It’s for an English television show. It’ll probably never be screened in Russia. He won’t know.”

“He’ll know if the bear isn’t around.”

“How long is he away for?”

“Ten days.”

“What if we can get it there and back within ten days?” Em asked, picking up the bear and examining the pattern around its belly closely.

Rosa was puzzled by this woman. She was charming and affable on the surface, but there was an unyielding quality to her. As though she hadn’t heard any of Rosa’s protests.

“Sorry,” Em said, after the silence had drawn out a few moments too long, “am I being pushy?”

Rosa laughed. “Yes. You are.”

Em tilted her head on the side and met Rosa’s eyes directly. “You just said she marked us. The three of us. Perhaps that’s why.”

Daniel found his tongue. “Come on, let’s not be superstitious.”

Rosa was struck by Em’s logic. “No, no. Em is right, Daniel. Perhaps the bear wants to go to Arkhangelsk. Perhaps she wants us, at least one of us. If that’s so, we should honour her feelings.” She held up a finger. “But she must be back before Vasily returns. He has a temper like a storm at sea.”

“You have my word,” Em said. “I’ll get on the phone to the producer tonight, I’ll organise everything. We’ll fly up—”

“I don’t fly,” Daniel murmured, almost inaudibly.

Em fought with her exasperation. “Then you can stay here.”

“Em, I’m sorry. I barely know you, you can’t take her alone,” Rosa said.

“It’s two days’ drive,” Em said. “Can’t
you
come instead?”

“I have work here. Uncle Vasily is away. I must stay.”

“Okay, then we’ll drive. Daniel,
I’ll
drive. I’ll organise the crew to meet us up there. Does that satisfy everyone?”

Daniel nodded, Rosa nodded.

“Does it satisfy you, Em?” Rosa asked.

Em placed the bear gently on the bench. “Oh yes,” she said. “I’m easily satisfied.”

“Take her then,” Rosa said, and she felt as though she had waded into a current tugging her onto some new and mysterious bearing. “But God help us all if Vasily finds out.”

Em woke in a dark and unfamiliar place. A few seconds passed before she remembered that she was still in St Petersburg, in Rosa’s uncle’s apartment. She and Daniel had decided to stay to avoid the round trip back to Novgorod. The crew were sending their bags up to Arkhangelsk. Em rolled over and turned on the lamp to check her watch. Three a.m. What had woken her so deep in the night? She sat up and listened as far as she could into the dark, but everything was perfectly quiet. Then she realised it had been a dream which woke her. That same dream she had told the fortune-teller about: suffocating black wool, snarled impossibly. She could feel the texture of the wool tangled at her fingertips still, and it made her shiver.

Em switched off the light but didn’t want to go back to sleep. Like anyone, she had her share of nightmares, and some were far more awful than this, but this dream stayed with her. She tossed back the covers and went to open the window. Fresh cold air poured in. Em liked few things better than fresh cold air.

She took a deep breath and gazed down at the sleeping city. The rain had withdrawn and a young couple out walking had paused at the gate of the cemetery for a quick grope. Em watched them with a detached sadness. Seeing young lovers always aroused in her a feeling that something to which she was entitled had been given to somebody else. The cold air was making her nose run, so she closed the window and went to her shopping bags. Working by the dim pool of lamplight, she organised her purchases into shoes, underwear, accessories and dresses, then folded them on the end of the bed.

Soft footsteps in the hall alerted her that somebody else was awake. She cracked open her door and peered out. Rosa, in a thick blue dressing gown, had switched on the kitchen lights. The bear gleamed yellow-gold on the bench. Em could hear the coffee machine spring to life.

Coffee.

Em found herself slipping down the hallway into the living area. “Hi,” she said softly.

Rosa jumped, and turned, hand over her heart. “Oh! Hi, Em.”

“Didn’t mean to give you a fright.”

“It’s okay. Couldn’t you sleep?”

Em shook her head. She could always sleep. She’d never had a moment of insomnia in her life. “Something woke me, and then I heard the coffee machine.”

“I couldn’t sleep, and this won’t help.” She held up the coffee cup. “Do you want one?”

“I’d love one.” She eased herself onto a stool at the bench, yawning.

Rosa made coffee wordlessly. The living room was dark and the coffee machine was loud in the night-time silence. Em checked her watch again. Nearly four. She wouldn’t be going back to sleep, she had too much to organise before they started the drive to Arkhangelsk. She still held hopes that Aaron could persuade Professor Gergiev to come to Novgorod early instead. Two days was a long time to spend in a rented car, especially when the steering had been soft since she’d driven out of the ditch on the way from Novgorod. Not that she’d tell Daniel; he was already afraid of his own shadow.

Rosa handed Em a steaming cup of coffee and she took a grateful sip.

“Wow,” she said to Rosa, who was settling opposite her, “you make good coffee.”

“I think you can always be good at something you care about,” Rosa said.

Em reached for the bear and ran her fingers over the arabesque design. “So, why couldn’t you sleep?” she asked.

“I was worrying.”

“About the bear?”

“Yes.”

Em touched the bear’s closed eyes. “She’s sleeping soundly, though.”

“Is she sleeping? Or is she thinking about something?”

“I don’t know.” Em considered the bear’s face. “What would she think about?”

“Something that makes her smile. Her trip to Arkhangelsk maybe.”

“The bear will be perfectly safe, I promise,” Em said.

Rosa hesitated, seemed about to say something, then stopped herself.

“Go on,” Em said. “Say what you want to say.”

“Yesterday afternoon, we talked about the psychic zap that all three of us felt from the bear.”

“Yes.”

“You didn’t question me on it. You weren’t surprised or cynical. You even said it was a good reason for me to allow you to go to Arkhangelsk with her.”

“That’s right.”

“Were you serious? Do you really believe that? Or did you think it was a good way to get me to agree?”

Em was taken aback, and had to remind herself that often people read her completely differently to her intentions. “No, no. I wasn’t using your beliefs to manipulate you,” she said.

“So do you believe?”

“Believe in what?” Em said carefully.

“In enchantment.”

“You think the bear is enchanted?”

“I’m certain she is,” Rosa said, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Perfectly certain.”

“I neither believe nor disbelieve,” Em said. “But I do want to take the bear to Arkhangelsk.”

“Why?”

“Because it would make good television. I’m very serious about what I do, Rosa. I assure you I have no sinister intentions.”

Rosa raised a carefully shaped eyebrow and directed a glance towards the bear. “
She
might.”

“Might she?”

“I’m not altogether sure that she’s benign. Daniel thinks I’m full of superstition, but his dismissiveness makes him vulnerable.”

Em watched Rosa for a few long moments trying to assess her.

Rosa laughed. “You’ve been quiet a long time,” she said. “You make me want to talk to fill the silence.”

“It’s not deliberate. I’m sorry.”

“Em, if you believe, even a little bit, that the bear is enchanted…”

“I do believe a little bit,” Em allowed. “Many unusual things happen. Many things aren’t as they seem.”

“Then you have to take care, for both yourself and Daniel. Do you understand?”

Em nodded. It was a reasonable request. “Is there anything I should do?”

“Just…be aware. That’s all.” Rosa shifted in her seat and brushed a strand of black hair off her face. “A bear is a powerful and dangerous creature. We don’t have a real word for it in Russian. To say its true name is taboo. Instead we use
medved
, which means honey-eater. A figurative word.”

Em nodded. “I’ll take good care of the bear.” She smiled. “And the boy.”

“Ah. The boy.” Rosa shook her head. “I don’t want to talk about the boy.”

Em took her at her word and said nothing further.

“Tell me, Em,” Rosa said. “What woke you?”

Em sipped her coffee thoughtfully. “I had a nightmare.”

“Did it frighten you?”

Frightened. Em pondered the word. The ticking of the clock seemed to slow, as though it was as early-morning tired as she was. “It made me feel very uncomfortable,” she said carefully, “but not frightened. It was only a dream after all.”

Rosa drained her coffee cup and stood. “Are you going back to bed?”

“No. I might do some work.” She indicated her briefcase, which leaned against the coffee table. “I wanted to be up by six anyway.”

“I’ll see you when the sun rises then.”

The builders were arriving when Rosa let herself into the bathhouse early in the morning. Jamie, the American foreman, looked up from his paperwork.

“Miss Kovalenka, we weren’t expecting you.”

“I wanted to speak to the builders,” Rosa said, finding herself idly admiring Jamie’s strong, tanned wrists. How had it escaped her notice that he was so good-looking? She found his eyes and a spark of interest jumped from her to him. She shook herself, told herself to concentrate, and said, “I wanted to know if anybody touched the bear before I arrived.”

Jamie looked puzzled, but Rosa didn’t know if it was her sexual attention or her question about the bear that had confused him. “I did,” he said, “and two of the Russians, Leon and Kolya.”

“Nobody else?”

“No.”

Rosa bit her lip, deciding how to word her next question. The spotlights flared into life, sending shadows cowering into corners. “Jamie, did you feel anything odd when you touched her?”

“Anything…odd?”

“In your fingers. Like electricity, or a shiver.”

He shook his head slowly. “No.”

“Are you certain? It might have felt like she was very cold, or very hot.”

“I’m absolutely certain,” he said. “Why?”

She waved him away. “Oh, it’s nothing. Just a silly theory I have. I’ll ask the others,” she said.

She found Leon and Kolya and put the same question to them. They both said no, but Rosa noticed that Kolya wouldn’t meet her eye. As the building site came to life, she took him aside into a dark corner at the back of the bathhouse. Here the tiles were mouldy and the smell of damp centuries was heavy. She sat on the old wooden bench still attached to the wall and invited him to do the same. He was a heavy man with dirty brown hair, and Rosa suspected he might be superstitious.

“You promise me to tell the truth?” she said.

He shrugged, still not meeting her eye. “Of course.”

“The bear, Kolya. Did she mark you?”

“I don’t like the way you talk, Rosa Petrovna.”

“Are you afraid of enchantments?”

“This is a bad place, and anything found here cannot be good.”

“Did you feel something when you touched her?” Rosa asked again. “Honestly now, tell me the truth.”

He sighed, jiggled his feet nervously, then finally lifted his gaze to hers. “Honestly, no, I felt nothing. I didn’t know what I was touching at first. Then I saw it was a bear and I was afraid. When you came along and said she was enchanted, I knew it was very bad magic.”

Rosa fought an uneasy feeling. “Why so?”

Kolya gestured around him. “A bathhouse is where sorcerers practise.”

“Not any more.”

“Their magic stays in the walls.” He dropped his voice to a whisper. “Some of the men say the devil himself practised here.”

“The devil?”

“The mad monk.”

“Grigory Rasputin?”

Kolya nodded quickly, superstitious about the name of the famous mystic being spoken.

“He was a man, Kolya, not a devil.”

“They had some trouble killing him as I understand.”

“But in the end they did kill him.” Rosa infused her voice with a kind tone. “If you aren’t happy working in this place—”

“No, no, I am happy to work,” Kolya said, and the desperation in his voice almost pained her. Vasily was rich, but so many were poor; despite his fears, Kolya came to work in the bathhouse every day. Rosa supposed that the alternative was letting his children go without new shoes for their growing feet this winter.

“You’re a good man, Kolya,” Rosa said gently, pulling two hundred roubles from her purse and pressing it into his hand. “Vasily rewards you for your honesty.”

“Thank you, Rosa Petrovna,” he said, his pride stopping him from meeting her eyes as he jammed the money into his pockets. “Beware of enchantments.”

“I will.” But what about Daniel and Em? Could she trust Em to take her warnings seriously? Perhaps she should forbid them from going.

And yet, the bear wanted to go. It was clear that not a single other person had felt the mark of enchantment. Rosa didn’t know how the three of them figured in the bear’s plans, but they all belonged in the puzzle somehow. Maybe Kolya’s superstitions about bad magic were unfounded. Maybe the bear dealt in blessings, not curses. Maybe an adventure awaited them all.

An adventure to burn bright in her memory.

She was outside walking up the street on her way to the office when Jamie caught up with her.

“Miss Kovalenka. Rosa,” he said, carefully taking her wrist. His fingers lingered seconds too long, and Rosa felt the promise to return in their withdrawal.

“Yes, Jamie?” she said, trying to be cool but knowing it was too late. The familiar hot signals were already passing between them.

“Did you find out what you needed to know?”

“Yes, thank you. I did.”

“If there’s any way I can be of service…”

Her moment of interest had made him bold. The flutter of adrenalin had started within her and she knew that, if she allowed it, within a week she’d be fucking him in the bathhouse after hours. The thought inflamed her imagination, and a tide of warm blood washed into her.

Then she stopped herself. Was this really about Jamie, to whom she had paid scant attention in the six months he’d been working for Vasily? Or was this about Daniel and the feelings seeing him had awoken in her: desire, regret, despair, anger? Jamie was Vasily’s employee; she had to be more cautious.

“Best not to offer me your service,” she said softly. “I wouldn’t treat you kindly.”

He smiled uncertainly. “I don’t believe that.”

She wanted to explain to him. She wanted to say, “I’m a collector, Jamie. I collect vivid memories. I collect intense sensations. Often it’s selfish, sometimes it’s cruel.” But any explanation would bind her tighter into his imagination. Instead, she stepped away from him, hands up. “Sorry,” she said, and she walked to the office without looking back.

Daniel kept telling himself that all this social anxiety would be character building. He sat uselessly on Vasily’s couch while Em made phone call after phone call. She was trying to avoid a two-day car trip to Arkhangelsk, but Professor Gergiev was in no mood to leave the university.

“That’s it,” she said with a sigh, hanging up the phone. “Gergiev says he can’t take time out this close to the end of term to travel to Novgorod. So the mountain has to go to Mohammed.”

He jumped up to follow her as she bustled down the hallway. “Aaron’s okay with this?”

“Not as okay as I’d like him to be, and we’re only getting a mini-crew.” She flicked them off on her fingers. “Two cameras, one sound, no lights…pray for fine weather so we can do our interviews outside.”

“What if we need to film in the archaeology lab?”

“Aaron says we can hire lights if we have to.” She was packing her newly-purchased clothes into a suitcase Rosa had loaned her.

Daniel paused at the door to the room. “So we’re off to Arkhangelsk today then?”

Em nodded. “Timing’s everything, right? We can’t have your Russian princess getting eaten by the ogre she calls Uncle Vasily.” She stopped what she was doing for a moment and fixed her gaze on him. “Daniel, one last time…are you sure you won’t fly?”