by F. C. Clark
‘Half an hour, then I have a meal for you. The plane will leave at first light tomorrow, returning you to the UK.’
‘Oh.’
‘Once we have dealt with the money, I would like to show you some things that you may find interesting.’
‘OK.’ Yet again, I sense warmth coming from this man. Does he care about me, or the money?
‘Come – let’s go to my office.’
I follow in his footsteps, captivated by his home.
Ivor’s office mirrors the house: it is large and austere, with another open fire roaring against the far wall. It may be summer, but the house feels cold. The focal point is a large, wooden desk. He walks to a chair and holds it for me.
‘Can I ask what you’re going to do with the money? Let me be clear, I have no interest in it,’ I say.
He nods. ‘It will disappear. Stocks and—’
I hold my hands up. ‘On second thoughts, don’t tell me! What I don’t know won’t hurt me, right? What are the chances of the men still coming after me? They might use me to get to you.’ I rub my forehead. My life since this morning makes no sense: my mother is dead, I have a Russian inheritance… God, I feel sick.
‘The account will be closed.’
‘And that’s enough?’ I don’t buy that. ‘You’re certain they’ll stop.’
There is a knock on the door. Ivor responds in Russian, watching me.
‘We can discuss this again shortly.’
I nod. I have nothing left to say.
The door opens and the guest of honour enters – the man from the bank.
‘Katarina Varizin.’ He holds out his hand. I shake it.
‘Katarina, this is Mr Akulov.’
I nod.
Mr Akulov prepares his laptop and various forms for me to sign, then gestures for me to enter my code.
I close my eyes to think. Here goes – Russian Victoria sponge cake. Sugar 30g, flour 90g, butter 100g, eggs 24, and baking powder 189 teaspoons. The screen accepts the code. I watch the digits alter until all that remains is a flashing zero.
Job done. I want to go home. Mr Akulov shakes my hand and Ivor walks with him to the door.
‘Kate, you have done well. From this point there should be no further threat.’
‘I hope you’re right. I need to check my phone. I’m waiting for an update on Dad.’
‘Yes, of course.’ Ivor bellows a command. The same man as before walks me to the large living area.
Oddly, I have no calls or texts from Luke, just a message from Kiki.
Dad is still stable. Nurse Kelly is pleased. X
No mention of Luke!
I hear the door open and turn to see Ivor.
‘Our meal is ready.’
I grab my bag and follow Ivor to a very grand dining room. The delicate sound of classical music playing in the background leaves me feeling relaxed – considering the situation.
Ivor pulls a chair out for me, while a man places two plates of steaming food on the table. It looks like a stew.
‘Enjoy. It is a classic: Rassolnik. Do you like to cook?’
‘Yes.’ I taste my first mouthful. It’s good – I didn’t realise I was hungry. ‘This is lovely.’
‘I cannot cook. Your grandmother – my mother – tried to teach me. I detested the kitchen. Your mother loved to cook – this was one of her favourites.’
I place my fork on my plate and look across at him.
‘Were you happy – I mean, when you got married?’
‘Yes.’ He takes a deep breath and sits back in his chair. ‘I was sent to prison for a crime I did not commit; it was a conspiracy against me and my family. Corruption is big business in this country – money can buy most things.’
‘And now… the people who wronged you – are they the same people that want to hurt me?’
‘Please, Katarina…’ He holds his hands up. ‘Kate. Without money you become less… how can I say it? You lose power.’
‘What about you? Do you come at a price? Will it cost me my life?’
‘On paper, I do not have children.’
‘Oh. But they know about me and my trust fund, so clearly there is a paper trail. I had the shit kicked out of me, so someone knows who I am.’
‘Yes, and as I told you that someone has been dealt with. You are no longer wealthy, and your paperwork has been destroyed.’
‘Destroyed! Was that to make your life easier, wiping us out of your life? Besides, they found me once, maybe they’ll find me again.’ The attack feels like yesterday, not days ago. I shudder at the memory; it’s even worse that Ivor knew.
Ivor shakes his head. ‘Not possible.’
Should I ask how he knows this? No.
‘Lucky for you – I’ll disappear out of your life.’
‘Luck is not something I possess. I have lost everyone I have loved.’
‘Me included,’ I mumble.
Ivor pours some red wine. He holds up his glass.
‘Kate, it is an honour to meet you.’
I raise my glass, but I can’t reciprocate.
‘Do you have any questions about your mother?’
‘Where do I start? This is a major shock. I celebrated my birthday yesterday with my friends and family, and now… everything’s gone, everything’s changed.’ I hate him, and my dead mum, for doing this. I swallow my emotions. ‘My entire life has… you’ve… ruined it.’ I lower my head, feeling desolate.
Ivor places his hand over mine.
I look up. Our dark eyes are identical; distance or no distance, he is part of me. ‘Sorry,’ I whisper. I want to hate him, but I can’t.
He shakes his head and tries to smile. ‘You have every right to be angry with me.’
‘I’m angry with everyone.’ Mum and Dad too. They knew – how could they have kept this from me and Harry?
‘I know I have upset you, but that was never my intention. You must not reject those who have cared for you over the years.’ He removes his hand and clasps them together, resting his elbows on the table.
‘OK. So – if there was no trust fund, I’m pretty certain this…’ I gesture, ‘would not be happening.’
He watches me for a second. ‘I would like to think that this would have happened at some point.’
I shake my head. No. ‘You could have contacted me a month ago – a year ago.’
‘Russia is a very different country to your home. Your safety is my priority; I know that your mother took you away for the right reasons. If she were alive today, life would be very different for us.’
‘I don’t see how. She put us up for adoption.’ I shake my head. I can’t believe I’m saying this.
‘You must understand she was protecting you – that is what a mother would do.’
‘No… I don’t think I could ever leave my babies. No – never.’
‘No!’ Ivor speaks sternly, shocking me. ‘She had a kind heart. To give you and your sister away would have caused her great pain. Do not speak in that way – do you understand?’
I have no control over the tears rolling down my cheeks.
‘Kate. Please.’ He gently touches my face. ‘This is difficult for me, also. Let me show you some pictures of your mother.’
‘OK,’ I respond softly.
We move towards the hall and stand in front of two large doors. Ivor uses a key from a chain around his neck and unlocks the doors. He walks towards the wall and flicks a switch, turning on a beautiful chandelier in the centre of the room.
He looks at me. I slowly move to the panelled walls. What the fuck?
‘How did…’ I can’t speak. The room is huge. The walls are covered in pictures of me – at every stage of my life.
This is surreal! How has Ivor documented my entire life?
‘Kate
?’ Ivor is waiting for a response. ‘I have shocked you.’
I bleakly look at him. ‘No shit.’ Am I supposed to be impressed?
‘Kate, this is all I have of your life.’
‘If you wanted to know me, why didn’t you just contact me?’ I fold my arms and continue to absorb all the pictures. ‘I would have accepted you. But you didn’t contact me until money was involved.’
‘I repeat. I do not need your trust fund. My old enemies would have hurt you. I could not allow that to happen.’
‘Maybe. Incidentally, I don’t want it back.’
‘My words do not mean much to you, but they are all I can give you.’
‘This is really difficult for me, so forgive me for not taking your word as gospel.’
He nods.
Strangely, many of the pictures were taken inside Mum and Dad’s house.
I tap a picture. ‘How did you get these?’
‘Christina Sampson has been sending them to me over the years. The others have been taken by men that I have hired.’
All I heard was Christina… Aunt Christina, Dad’s sister! ‘What? Why does Christina send you pictures?’
‘I pay a fair price for them.’ He walks towards me, his hands in his trouser pockets.
I stop.
‘You pay her? Fuck! Jesus, I can’t believe what I’m hearing. She told us she didn’t know you. This looks pretty friendly to me.’ I move to the next row. ‘These pictures were taken in my mum’s house. I was about five, I think.’
‘Six… you were six – and please do not speak in that manner.’
I shake my head in disbelief. Does he think he can tell me what to do? No way; he’s not my dad.
‘When did this start?’ I move across the room.
‘After I was released from prison. The company that was used for your adoption belonged to Malcolm’s sister. I knew I could have photos of you.’ He watches me closely, as I crumble. ‘Kate, I had the paperwork of your adoption destroyed – there was no trail in London. I could not risk certain people knowing you existed.’
My world has been shattered. How could Christina lie to us?
I continue the tour of my life. Some of the images were taken very recently. I stop at an image of Luke; my finger traces his face. God, I miss him.
‘You have made a good choice in finding yourself a man – he seems determined and strong.’
‘He is.’ Strong? I’ll go with controlling, and thanks to you he’ll be extremely pissed off.
‘You don’t have many pictures of Harry – is that because of the trust fund?’
He moves forward, closing the distance between us.
‘Kate, Harry is not my daughter… I thought you would have worked out the dates of her birth. I was in prison when she was conceived.’
Shit, he’s right.
‘The dates didn’t enter my head. Crap! So if it’s not you, then who is her dad?’
Ivor takes a deep breath, almost waiting for me to solve the mystery.
‘Do you know who it is?’ Then a thought hits me. ‘Dad!’
‘I believe Katenka and Malcolm had an affair. I have no proof of this, and accept that she needed happiness. Malcolm seems like a good man.’
My eyes glaze over and my legs weaken, making me stumble.
‘Kate!’ Ivor grabs my waist and guides me to a chair. He sits next to me, taking hold of my hands. ‘This is too much for you.’
‘What do you think?’ The evidence is clear – tears are streaming down my cheeks.
He moves his chair nearer and places an arm around my shoulders. I sense he is unsure how to behave, but I feel comfortable enough with him to lean my head against him.
‘Kate, I am sorry.’
‘It’s fine. Actually, it’s not. I’m really cross with you.’ I sit up.
He stands and walks towards a glass trolley, pours two drinks and resumes his seat next to me.
He passes me a tumbler. ‘Drink this.’
‘Thank you.’ I down it. The burning sensation takes my breath away – whisky, I think. ‘I’m angry at a lot of things today, Ivor, not just you.’ He looks at me, uncertain of my state of mind. ‘My dad – well, I have no idea how my dad is, because I’m here with you. Let’s not forget my mum left us, and now she’s dead. Oh, and my sister is now my half-sister because my dad had an affair with my birth mum. You would be right in saying my life appears to be completely…’ Fucked. God, I want to scream. ‘Why haven’t you contacted me? I don’t get it.’
His face softens. ‘I had my reasons.’
‘I bet you did,’ I mumble under my breath.
He stands and collects a box from the corner of the room, and places it on the table.
‘You may find this interesting.’
‘What is it?’
‘Information about your mother.’ He removes the lid. ‘It is up to you if you want to look – I understand if it’s too much.’
I deliberate for a moment. Of course it’s too much, but not knowing where you come from has to be more painful than knowing. I stand and take a deep breath. Here goes. Instantly, I’m drawn to a picture. I sit back in the chair and examine the image of a beautiful young woman with blonde hair.
‘You look like your mother.’ He smiles with pride.
Tears roll down my cheeks as my finger traces the picture in my hand.
‘If this is all true, then I feel cheated for not knowing her.’
‘I have no reason to lie.’
He reaches inside the box and removes a small photo album.
‘This, you must see.’
He passes me the album. I flick through the pages. Immediately, I see that Ivor and Katenka look happy. They almost look like Luke and me. She was blonde and Ivor is dark.
‘You look happy.’
‘We were, but it was taken away from us, and from you.’
‘I guess.’ Part of me can’t let myself think of what ifs. If Katenka hadn’t come to London, there would be no Harry – a thought I really can’t accept.
He passes me more pictures, this time of their wedding day.
‘She was beautiful. What about your family?’
He shakes his head. ‘I have no family.’
‘None?’
‘No. My parents died many years ago. I was their only child.’
‘Oh.’
‘My mother loved Katenka. You have the same ability as she – to light up a room. This is a gift from your mother.’ He looks away. I hate to admit it, but I pity him, living alone with no love – not a love like these pictures display.
Ivor stands and pours himself another drink. ‘Kate?’ He holds up the decanter.
I shake my head. I’m already feeling confused.
‘Ivor, I need to ask – what do you want from me?’
He returns to the chair. ‘I need you to be safe. If I enter your life that may alter.’
‘I thought that, now we’ve met… maybe you would want me in your life.’
‘I wish it were that easy,’ he says.
‘I’ve survived this long without you… just say it how it is. Trust me, I can take rejection.’
Firm lines form across his forehead, and once again his temper returns.
‘Rejection? No! I have kept you away from my life for good reason.’
‘Safety! So you said.’
‘My family have old enemies, who would enjoy…’ He shifts in his chair. ‘I have lost your mother. If they hurt you, I would have nothing left.’
‘Nothing left?’ I almost laugh out of anger. ‘All you have are some old pictures locked away in a room.’
‘That is my life, Kate.’
Christ, it’s true – this is all he has. ‘It was your choice, and you seem like a man who knows his own mind.’
&nb
sp; ‘Losing your mother was too painful for me. Knowing you are safe and happy gives me peace.’
‘You still haven’t answered my question. Are you entering my life now?’
‘No.’
‘When?’
‘I do not know; give me time.’
I hold back tears of disappointment.
‘Kate, I want you to have this.’ He places a wedding picture in my hands. ‘I will see you again – one day.’ His knuckles tenderly brush my cheek. ‘I want you to return home, happy in the knowledge that you and your family are safe.’
I take the picture and stand, feeling confused about the man I want to hate because he abandoned me, yet my heart wants him to be part of my life.
We leave the room. I shall never forget it. My silent footsteps follow Ivor’s towards the staircase. I can’t help but feel empty – a lost daughter.
He turns to me. ‘I have prepared a room for you.’
‘Thank you.’
I follow Ivor up the wooden staircase. The house smells old, and I’m not sure what the scent is – maybe wax or oil.
‘Is this your house?’
‘Yes. It has been in my family for many generations.’
‘Oh. It’s stunning.’
He looks at me. Perhaps he’s pleased that I’m appreciating my heritage.
‘Here is your room. Do you need anything?’
‘No, thank you.’ I stand awkwardly in front of him.
He opens the door. ‘I will not be here when you wake. The man who escorted you today will return you home safely.’
I look up into his dark eyes.
‘When you’re ready.’
I can no longer speak; my emotions grip my vocal cords. I reach up and kiss his cheek, and then bolt into my room.
The door closes and I crumple to the bed. My tears fall hard and fast. My sobs develop into a painful silent wail.
A knock at the door shocks me into stopping. I stand and try to compose myself, wiping away my tears with the back of my hand. I open the door to a man carrying a tray with a jug of water and a glass. He walks past me and places them on a table, and immediately exits. Short and not so sweet! I assume communication skills must not be a requirement to get a job with Ivor.