The Wolves of Leninsky Prospekt

by Sarah Armstrong

  I stood up. ‘Stop it. What are you doing?’ I’d spoken in English, suspecting that she did speak it. All spies spoke it.

  Natalya put her hand on her hip and turned to me, eyebrows raised.

  ‘What are you doing?’ I repeated in Russian.

  ‘I am sick. I have to go home.’

  ‘Yes, go home.’

  She swaggered past me. She wasn’t sick, but something was going on. I couldn’t make her stay.

  I heard the front door slam and went into the kitchen. The coupons for Wednesday’s shopping were still there, and I realised that she wasn’t coming back. In fact, I suspected she had another job to replace this one.

  I went back to finish my coffee. This wasn’t good. I’d have to do the shopping now, and more cooking. I should have gone with Alison and seen how it all worked. I didn’t even have my own bags. Maybe Kit would expect me to do the cleaning, and I’d have to wash the sheets in the bath and somehow hang them up. Suddenly, Natalya felt a crucial part of my happiness in Moscow.

  I would ask Kit if we could get someone else, but as he paid for everything, I knew I should be offering some work in return, at least in the meantime.

  The following day, I lost Galina as well. She came in with a furious look, and I was shocked because we’d been getting on so well. That’s when I knew she was going to walk out too. There was no way I was going to let her do this easily.

  I agreed with her every criticism of my pronunciation and understanding. I agreed when she said that I would never become fluent, that I didn’t have a talent for languages. I apologised for my failings, but I could tell it wasn’t working. She knew that we both understood the game, and neither of us meant what we were saying.

  At the end of the lesson she said, ‘I am being sent to long conference far away. I cannot come here for some time.’ She tried to convey something with her eyes, and I knew we couldn’t use any words. I saw the pressure in the way she pressed her lips together. I wished I had something to give her, but we had to pretend that she’d be back. We hugged quietly in the hallway.

  That was Sandra, Alison, Natalya and Galina all lost in less than three weeks. And Bobby, my fellow explorer of the wilderness.

  When I’d stopped crying, I tried to read more of Kit’s books, the historical ones distanced from this Moscow. Everything seemed the same. The time of Tsars had the same secret police, the same silence when officials attacked the powerless, the same random cruelties and Siberian exiles. It wasn’t the communists that were responsible for thinking up ways of tormenting people. They were following a well-established model.

  I began to jump at every noise in the hallway, every yelp from the children outside. I began to think of going back to England, just for a visit, but just thinking that made me furious. I would decide when I left Moscow, no one else. I just had to get out of the apartment.

  I never even thought of going in the woods any more, now that I knew I definitely wouldn’t be alone. I stayed on the streets and the Metro, keeping in clear sight. Not that this was any protection. If I was bundled into a car, no one would say anything. They wouldn’t want to be next.

  I walked to Alison’s, half thinking I should knock, but I decided against it. Charlie was bound to be there, packing. I kept walking up Vernadskogo. I walked for three hours. I crossed into Gorky Park through the arch with the grand columns Stalin loved so much, and walked to the Moskva where I leaned on the railings and thought about Sandra.

  Now that the shock had worn off, I couldn’t see how she could be regarded as suicidal. Despairing, yes, but for specific reasons: the loss of her books as well as her relationship with Sasha. Would someone have done this to her? One of the KGB jackets was unlikely, but what about her husband? She could have been having an affair with Sasha, or her husband could have thought she was. That would be useful information to the jackets. I would bet on her husband, white-faced, but not inconsolable. And back at work. I’d tried to ask Kit about him, but he wouldn’t say much.

  I turned so my back was to the river and picked out my blue jacketed friend from the people on benches. He held a newspaper in front of him, like a spy from a film, but his hat wasn’t as low as usual. I could see his face, young, with the hollow eye sockets and slight grey tinge of the average Muscovite. I imagined him clenching his jaw, wishing me to look away. Maybe this was the best job he’d ever had, and to stare at him meant he could be removed, sent to work in the depths of Lubyanka.

  I let my eyes drift to the bridge, and past it where the river split off to the canal, leaving the British Embassy on a long, curved island. Where had Sandra been pushed into the river? Had she fallen? Was anyone asking?

  From the corner of my eye I saw a shape coming towards me and I flinched, turning to face them. It was no one. Just a couple of men in conversation, who looked at me with the vaguest curiosity. My heart was beating – run, run, run.

  There was little point pretending that I wasn’t thinking about it. It was Tuesday. I went to see Eva.

  I think she could tell that things weren’t great with me. She didn’t even tell me off about not bringing anything. In fact, she hardly said anything, just settled me down in the bright room. For the first time since coming to Moscow, I felt homesick.

  She spoke gently.

  ‘How are your lessons going?’

  ‘They were going all right, I think. I have a long way to go.’

  ‘We can always speak in Russian, if you’d like the practice.’

  ‘I’m not ready for that, but thank you.’

  She poured the tea. ‘I think I may be able to get you a job at the Institute of Foreign Languages, when your Russian is good enough.’

  I was scared by that. I realised I was expecting the police to charge in and arrest me for planning to break my visa conditions. ‘I don’t have the right visa.’

  ‘Visas can be changed. Don’t worry, it’s just a suggestion. You can think about it.’

  ‘Sorry. I’m finding it all a bit much today.’

  ‘Living abroad is hard.’

  I flinched.

  She added, ‘Even when it’s temporary.’

  I put my cup back on the saucer. My shaking hand made it clink.

  ‘Any problem,’ she said, ‘is just a series of steps. It’s overwhelming to look at the whole picture.’ She made a frame with her fingers. ‘Look at each part separately.’

  ‘I’ll try.’ I could feel tears welling up and I really didn’t want to cry, but my voice was cracking.

  Eva leaned forward, as if to whisper something, and then sat back. ‘Would you like to sit here quietly, or would you like to walk the dog for me?’

  I felt the tension in my shoulders give a little. The only uncomplicated relationship I had in Moscow. ‘Oh, yes. I’d like to walk your dog, please.’

  The dog led me back from the Kremlin and up to the apartment. Eva had a teapot already on the coffee table, and six crackers, each with a smear of blackness.

  ‘Is that caviar?’

  She nodded. ‘Your first?’

  ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘It’s not expensive, is it? I don’t know if I like it.’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ she said. ‘There’s only one way to find out.’

  She poured the cups, side by side, and waited for me to choose one. I appreciated this subtle nod of apology every time since the illness. Or, that’s how I read it.

  ‘Do you like the way she takes you to the bench? I need to rest so we always stop there.’ Eva stroked Vorona’s head. ‘It’s easy to feel isolated in a big city, and sometimes it’s nice just to sit and watch people.’

  I nodded, trying to relax.

  Eva smiled. ‘Shall I tell you about Black Russian Terriers?’

  That sounded a safe subject. I sank back against the sofa. ‘That would be lovely.’

  Eva gave me a gift as I was leaving. I tied the headscarf at the back of my neck and smiled. I wore it on the Metro, and walking home, but took it off when I got back to my apartment building a
nd pushed it into my coat pocket. I should have asked her for a bag, I realised. If it came down to it, I could pick up some essentials using my new headscarf as a little bag, even if it would look as if it belonged over my shoulder, on the end of a stick.

  I stopped off at the twelfth floor and knocked for Leila, on the off chance. I’d knocked before, but she must have been at the university, or out with her boyfriend. This time the door opened.

  ‘Oh, you’re in,’ I said.

  ‘I’m in. Do you want to come in?’

  ‘Your boyfriend’s not here?’

  ‘No. Way over east, somewhere.’

  ‘OK. Yes. Thanks. I just knocked to ask whether you have a bag I can borrow for shopping. I can’t seem to find one to buy.’

  ‘Sure. Follow me.’

  Leila went into the kitchen, which was exactly the same as our one, and emptied the vegetables from a brown string bag onto the cupboard she was using as a worktop.

  ‘You’ve got an oven.’

  ‘Haven’t you?’ She looked surprised. ‘Well, Seb is luckier than I thought. I’ve also got some string, if you wanted to make your own bag.’

  ‘I can’t do that.’

  ‘I’ll show you.’ She grimaced. ‘My mum is into macramé. Do you know when the heating comes on in the building? I’m freezing.’

  ‘I think it’s October. It’s related to the temperature outside, I remember that.’

  ‘A bit of a wait, then. Do you have time for a coffee? I’ll look for the string while it heats up.’

  ‘That would be great. Thanks.’

  I allowed myself to be guided to what seemed to be the front room, but it was a single room containing both table and bed. The same size as ours, but there was no dividing wall. Her table was more of a desk, covered in books and a typewriter, but there were two chairs. She took the clothes from one, and I sat and faced the balcony.

  When she brought in the coffee, and moved the other chair near mine, I realised what was strange.

  ‘Don’t you put music on when you’re talking to people?’

  ‘I have a radio, but I don’t have many visitors. I don’t think about it much.’

  I looked at the pile of clothes by her bed. So many hats and scarves and coats. Twice as many clothes as me.

  There was nothing in what she said to make me doubt her, but there was something odd about Leila. Or maybe Moscow had just altered me permanently and I would never trust anyone again.

  ‘Are you all right?’ asked Leila.

  ‘Yeah. It’s been a difficult few days. How’s the studying?’

  ‘Good. It’s the other stuff, trying to keep occupied while Seb is away. I mean, it’s difficult to find out anything interesting, but I like a challenge. I met some poets, saw some operas, went to a student art exhibition. I found a couple of cocktail bars, so it’s been good. How do you fill your days?’

  ‘I have no idea. Walking, watching Soviet films, rereading books I brought with me.’

  ‘Have you tried the House of Foreign Books?’

  ‘No. Is it in Moscow?’

  ‘Of course. I can take you, if you’re not sure about getting around.’

  ‘I can get around, if you draw me a map.’

  ‘You and your maps. I got Seb onto that, and he found some good ones. I asked him to get me a spare in case I bumped into you, or someone else who needed one.’

  She rifled through a drawer and pulled it out.

  ‘That’s brilliant.’ I felt quite ashamed to have been doubting her. It was a proper, full map, with an index. ‘I am sorry, about our first meeting and then just turning up. I thought…’

  ‘You thought it was a provocation. I get it. We were warned about that too. It would be nice to have someone to go around with though. I’ll take you to the shops I go to. It’s not too bad at the hard currency places. I have some rye bread you can have, if you want. It will go stale before I finish it. Hey, you know that the Universiade is on at the Lenin Stadium?’

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘It’s like an Olympics for universities. You haven’t heard about it? The British are expecting to do all right in athletics, and they might win something.’

  ‘No, sorry, I haven’t heard anything. Things are quite busy at the moment.’

  She nodded. ‘Well, it starts in a week. If you could get any tickets, I just thought we could go together.’

  ‘I’ll ask.’

  With my shopping bag, bread and map, I felt much more positive when I arrived back at my apartment. I sliced some kind of smoked sausage that Natalya had brought and the rye bread. Kit came in, tired again. I put Bach on. He opened the Bulgarian white wine I’d left in the fridge. We sat at the table and I ate while he drank.

  ‘Any news on Charlie?’

  ‘Not public news, no. But Alison and some of the mums are going to the exhibition centre at VDNKh with the kids as a final outing for Bobby to say goodbye. After he’d just started getting to know them and talk about school. Two weeks to sort everything out and leave. It’s tough on him.’

  Had Bobby entirely changed his character in the last couple of weeks? I doubted it. Maybe Kit meant that it was tough on Charlie, but I wasn’t going to agree with that. I knew it was his fault.

  ‘Can I go along?’

  ‘Oh, yes, you’re invited. This is your invitation, times, date.’

  He pulled an envelope from his pocket. I put it next to my plate. It reminded me that I really should write home again.

  We ate for a while, shrugging off the day.

  ‘Have you heard if there’s any replacement for Natalya?’

  ‘Not yet, darling. That could take weeks, or months. They’ll decide in their own sweet time.’

  ‘I think Galina won’t be back either.’

  ‘Hmm. Did you do anything?’

  ‘No! She’s been sent away.’

  ‘It’s like the Soviets are trying to isolate you, now that Alison’s going. And after Sandra, of course. Or push you in a specific direction.’

  Was it connected to Sandra? My actions at the Apothecary’s Gardens were looking more reckless as time went on. I still hadn’t told Kit.

  ‘What are you thinking about?’ he said, suddenly. ‘Anything else I should know?’

  ‘I walked Eva’s dog for her today.’

  ‘Remember when I said Eva would get you to do things for her?’

  ‘Yep.’

  ‘Good. Did you ever get that map from her?’

  ‘Nope.’

  ‘Remember that. It’s always one way.’

  ‘I know. I am being more careful. And Leila gave me a map. The student with the British Council. She asked about tickets for the Universiade.’

  ‘Did she bump into you somewhere?’

  ‘No, I knocked for her, downstairs.’

  ‘She asked you to get her tickets?’

  ‘No, she just offered to go with me. If I was going.’

  ‘Do you want to go?’

  ‘I’m not desperate. I’m just trying to tell you everything that’s going on.’ I felt such a liar. I was covering up the very thing he should be told, about Sasha.

  Kit put his hand on mine. ‘You know I said that Leila was with the British Council? It doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t still be careful about what you say to her.’

  I pulled my hand away. ‘I know that. I’m not allowed to speak to anyone about more than the weather. Please trust me, Kit. You get to go out and see people every day. I just want someone to go shopping with, maybe see a film. That’s all.’

  Kit thought for a bit. ‘So, you’ve been dog walking.’

  ‘It’s a big one, a Black Russian Terrier.’

  Kit raised his eyebrows and opened his mouth.

  ‘And I know all about the breed and everything, so there’s no need to fill me in. I think I could probably write a paper on it and be considered an expert.’

  ‘Is she boring, Eva?’

  ‘No, not at all. Before we were dancing around each other, bo
th trying not to say anything meaningful. It was exhausting. But today she was kind. I think I’d really like the real Eva. I needed her to be exactly as she was today. It’s been shocking with Alison and Sandra, just gone like that. It was preying on my mind.’

  ‘You’ll find a way through it, darling. Just remember you’re on a different side to Eva, but you understand her in a different way to anyone else here. She might feel she needs you to access that British part of her life. You don’t need her, though. You’ll find new friends. And I will always love you.’

  He held out his hand across the table again and I squeezed it.

  23

  We arrived in our chauffeured cars, six of the embassy wives with assorted children. As we passed the VDNKh Metro station on Prospekt Mira, the Monument to the Conquerors of Space soared up behind us. A hundred metres high was a tiny rocket, leaving the curve of burned up energy on the earth.

  We turned left, and the archway for the VDNKh came into view. The All-Soviet Exhibition Centre. I said to Alison that it was an odd way to say goodbye to Moscow.

  ‘Bobby’s choice,’ she said. ‘He wanted to see something to do with space. The planetarium is being used to train cosmonauts, so we came here.’

  She ruffled Bobby’s hair, and he leaned towards her, resting on her bump.

  ‘It’s a shame we never made it to Helsinki,’ she said, and stroked his head. ‘I won’t be going anywhere for a while.’ She began to blink and looked out of the window.

  Our cars drew up in a line. Alison struggled from the car, and we assembled around Taisia, our short young guide. She projected her voice as if she had stage training.