The Kirilov Star (15 page)

‘It’s all my fault and I shouldn’t involve you.’

‘It is my privilege. There is no need to apologise.’

She was still desperately worried about Yuri, but with Alex at her side, she became more cheerful. And now she had time to notice what he was wearing. ‘Alex, what are you doing in that uniform? Are you in the Red Army?’

‘No, of course not.’ He spoke very quietly so only she
could hear, though everyone passing them seemed intent on their own business. ‘But it saves me having to answer a lot of awkward questions and it opens doors.’

‘You could be in dreadful trouble if anyone finds out.’

‘They won’t. Don’t worry.’

He was right about opening doors. They went to the head of the queue and in no time had tickets to take them to Moscow. ‘You are my prisoner,’ he told her as they boarded the train. ‘I am taking you to Moscow to be interrogated for not having the right papers, so do not look too happy to be with me.’

‘I can’t help it,’ she said, not questioning why they should go to Moscow instead of directly to Minsk. ‘I am happy. No, not happy, because we still have to find Yuri, but as happy as I could be under the circumstances. Oh, you don’t know the relief it is to have someone to talk to, someone who isn’t going to swear at me and slap me. And all because he thought there were more jewels to be found. I am sure Grigori had whatever were left, though he pretended to search for them as well.’

‘I am surprised he did not take the Star from you.’

‘He wanted to but I said I’d lost it. I gave it to Ivan Ivanovich to look after.’

‘Why did you take it out of England?’

‘I thought I might need it to prove my identity if I met my parents. What a fool I was. Do you think Papa will ever forgive me?’

‘Of course he will. It was he who asked me to find you and bring you back. He said he wanted you home, no matter what.’

‘I wrote to him several times, but he never answered.’

‘He wrote to you at Kirilhor.’

‘I never received a single letter. They must have kept them from me. Oh, how I wish I had never come here. It was wicked of me.’

‘You are not wicked, sweetheart. Led astray.’ He paused. ‘What are you going to do about your husband, when we find him?’

‘Divorce him. I want nothing more to do with him. I only want my son.’

He was immeasurably relieved. ‘Then let us see if we can find him,’ he said, ushering her onto the crowded train and sitting beside her, whispering in her ear. ‘Remember to play your part. You are my prisoner.’

As the train began to move and pick up speed, the events of the last few days and her lack of sleep, together with her implicit faith in Alex, combined to send her to sleep. He smiled as her head nodded and then settled on his shoulder. Let her sleep. They were not out of the woods yet and he must be careful, very, very careful. And when they did catch up with that devil, Nikolay Andropov, he still had to decide how to wrest the baby from him. Money would be the answer; it seemed to be what had been driving the man all along.

In Moscow he booked them into the Metropol Hotel and then left her to rest while he went to see about their onward journey. ‘Try and be patient,’ he said before he went. ‘I’ll be back before you know it. Don’t, on any account, leave this room.’

How could she be patient when her child was missing? She was desperately anxious to continue and having to stop was frustrating, but she knew Alex was right when he said they must keep within the Soviet rules and regulations as far as possible. Resting was out of the question, and as soon
as she was alone, she began pacing the small room, back and forth, back and forth, thinking of Yuri, wondering if he was being well treated and Olga had been able to obtain baby food for him, praying he would know her when he saw her. Would they give him up without an argument? Or would she have to fight for him? Thank God for Alex.

She stood looking out of the window onto the busy street. Cars, lorries, military vehicles, horses and carts went up and down. Young women in light cotton dresses hurried along with shopping baskets on their arms, a
babushka
with a scarf tied over her head was endeavouring to sell small items from a tray she had round her neck. There were soldiers in breeches, businessmen in light tussore suits, peasants in belted tunics, students and children. She wondered if any of them were as lost, bewildered and miserable as she was.

Alex was gone a long time. By the time she heard the special knock on the door they had arranged, she was in a fever of anxiety. ‘Thank God!’ she said, pulling him into the room. ‘I was beginning to think something had happened to you.’

‘I had a lot of calls to make and a lot of queueing. I went to the embassy and told Lord Chilston your child had been kidnapped. He was all sympathy and promised to do what he could with the Russian authorities, though he is due to return to London soon and I don’t know who his replacement will be.’

‘I can’t wait for diplomatic wheels to grind, Alex, I must find Yuri before they spirit him away somewhere where I can’t reach him. You did tell him that, didn’t you?’

He smiled. ‘Yes, of course. Now, we will have something to eat and a good night’s sleep and go on tomorrow.’

‘No, Alex, no. I want to go now.’ She grabbed his arms and looked into his face, seeing the lines of worry and concern for the first time and realising how much she was putting on him. ‘I’m sorry, I’ve no right to ask you to help me. I brought this trouble on myself and ought to resolve it myself. I’ll go on alone.’

‘No, Lidushka. You will not even get out of Moscow alone, so don’t try it. You need me and my uniform and my papers, and Olga and Andropov won’t disappear.’ He took her hands from his arms and held on to them. ‘Olga is going to take up a job she has been directed to. It is more than her life’s worth not to go, so we shall find her. Rushing off into the night will not make any difference. And you need to eat and rest, you are nearly dead on your feet.’

Reluctantly she admitted he was right and they went out to find a restaurant where she picked at her food with no appetite. Nor did she have much conversation; her head was too full of Yuri. He took her back to her room. ‘Stay with me,’ she said.

‘Are you sure?’

‘Yes. I don’t want to be alone.’

He watched her undress and get into bed, then he slipped off his own clothes and got in beside her, putting his arms about her and drawing her towards him. He wanted very much to make love to her and he did not think she would object, but he desisted. Now was not the time and place. He kissed her forehead. ‘Sleep tight, my darling,’ he murmured. Whether she heard him or not, he did not know; safe in his arms, she had fallen asleep.

When Lydia woke, the place beside her was empty and the only evidence that Alex had ever been there was a dent in
the pillow. She sat up in alarm. Where was he? Had he left her? Even as her heart began to race in panic, he appeared in his underclothes with a towel about his neck. ‘There’s a bathroom along the corridor,’ he said. ‘The water is only lukewarm, but better than nothing.’

The sun was streaming in the window. It was going to be another scorching day, not the sort of day to be travelling on crowded trains. She rose and kissed his cheek. ‘A lukewarm bath sounds like the height of luxury to me. I shan’t be long.’

‘While you dress, I’ll go down and order breakfast.’

It arrived while she was towelling her hair and they sat down to eat. She had not unpacked the night before and it was the work of a moment to put her toilet things into her bag and declare herself ready to go on.

He picked up their cases and she followed him from the room.

The train, which was full of noisy troops, rattled through the countryside; hills, forests, small towns flashed past and all the time Lydia was praying. ‘Please let him be there, please let me get him back.’ It became a litany in time with the rhythm of the wheels. And then, just short of their destination, the train came to a sudden stop which jolted everyone out of their seats. Alex stood up and put his head out of the door. ‘The line is blocked up ahead,’ he said. ‘Stay here. I’m going to see what’s going on.’

He jumped down onto the track and made his way up the line, together with the colonel in command of the troops. ‘It looks like an explosion,’ he said, as they walked. ‘Do you think the war has started?’

‘I don’t know,’ Alex said. ‘But I heard that Germany and Russia have signed a non-aggression pact.’

‘So they have, to divide Poland between them. We’re off to the front. I’m surprised you didn’t know that, Major.’

‘I did, of course,’ Alex said. ‘But we are some way from the border and they surely won’t start an offensive until all the troops are in position.’

They had reached the site of the explosion which was centred on the station itself and had taken place a few hours before. ‘A bomb was left in the luggage room,’ a railway official told them. ‘The station building is a wreck but we have to concentrate on clearing the line. We could do with some help from your men.’

‘I’ll arrange it,’ the colonel said and returned to the train.

‘Were there any casualties?’ Alex asked the railwayman.

‘Some. Ten dead. They are laid out in the station yard. The wounded have been taken to hospital in Minsk. Twenty of those, women and children too, all waiting for trains.’

‘Who did it?’

The man shrugged. ‘Who knows? Probably a Jew. There are plenty of those in Minsk who don’t like the idea of Russia making friends with Hitler.’

The troops arrived and began helping to clear the line of rubble. The rails beneath it were only slightly damaged, Alex noted. Once the line was clear they would be able to continue their journey. He wandered off to inspect the damage to the station, which was considerable, and from there went out to the station yard. Why he decided to look at the bodies, he did not know. He lifted the tarpaulin that covered their faces. Some had terrible injuries but others were unmarked. There was even a baby, lying beside its mother. He was about to replace the covering when Lydia
joined him. ‘I wondered where you’d got to. Oh—’ She put her hand to her mouth and stared at the dead man lying almost at her feet. ‘Oh, my God, it’s Kolya.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Of course I’m sure.’ She rushed up and down the line of bodies, bending over each. Alex held his breath as she reached the woman and the baby, but she passed them with barely a glance. ‘They’re not here! Olga and Yuri are not here!’ She looked wildly about her. ‘Are there any more?’

Alex counted them. ‘No more dead. The wounded have been taken to hospital in Minsk.’

‘How soon can we go on?’

‘As soon as the line is cleared.’

‘Is there any other way? A bus or something?’

‘Nothing that will be any quicker.’ He put his arms about her to try and calm her. ‘Don’t despair, Lidushka. He might not be hurt at all. If Olga was hurt, they would have sent him with her, wouldn’t they? We shall find him.’

How could he understand her obsession with her child? He was not a mother. Nor even a father. She shook him off and ran out to see how quickly the line was being cleared, and paced backwards and forwards between the blocked section of line and the stationary train. He could do nothing but walk beside her, uttering banalities which he knew were no comfort at all.

It was nearly midnight when they were told to return to their seats and the train moved off very slowly over the damaged bit of track, before picking up speed. Lydia was so keyed up and anxious, Alex began to fear for her sanity. She had been through so much and, though he kept reassuring her, he knew there were still enormous obstacles
to be overcome before she could be reunited with her baby. If it were not for the child, he could have had her safely out of the country and on her way back to England by now.

They arrived in Minsk just as dawn was lightening the sky behind them and then there was another long delay as everyone’s papers were examined. Germany had invaded Poland, they were told, and Britain and France had declared war. It meant security was tighter than ever. Lydia was shaking with nerves as the queue in front of them diminished and they moved nearer the table where an official was examining papers and interrogating everyone.

‘Leave it to me,’ Alex whispered.

His own papers, though forged, were passed without comment. ‘Lydia Andropova lost her papers in the explosion along the line,’ he told the officer. ‘Her husband was killed and her sister-in-law was wounded. They had her baby with them. I am taking her to the hospital to see them. She is out of her mind with worry. I beg you to let us pass. I will be responsible for her.’

The man pretended not to notice the roubles Alex had laid on the table almost under his hand and looked up at Lydia who was white-faced and shivering uncontrollably; obviously in great distress. He returned Alex’s papers and waved them on.

They took a taxi to the main hospital where they were told to wait. Lydia sat beside Alex on the hard bench, holding tight to his hand, waiting in torment. The place was crowded. She could hear children crying in the distance and wondered if one of them might be Yuri. It was all she could do not to run along the corridor to trace the source of the crying. At last a big woman in a dark-blue uniform and a
white cap came to them and Lydia sprang up to meet her.

‘You were enquiring about Olga Denisovna Nahmova,’ she said.

‘Yes, can we see her?’

‘It won’t do any good; she is dying and not expected to recover consciousness.’

‘The baby,’ Lydia moaned, hanging onto Alex’s arm to stop herself falling to the floor. ‘What happened to the baby?’

‘Taken to an orphanage.’

‘Which one? Where?’

The woman shrugged. ‘I’ve no idea. He wasn’t hurt, though he was bawling loudly enough to wake the dead. Hungry, I expect. I couldn’t feed him, so he was handed over to the authorities to deal with.’

Alex decided to intervene before Lydia said something rash and alienated the woman completely. ‘Have you no idea where the baby might have been taken?’

‘There are two orphanages in Minsk. He could be in either. I’ll write the addresses down for you.’