by David Woods
The short journey through customs was a slow and frightening experience with everyone’s luggage being searched, security men paced up and down staring with sullen expressions. When at last it was their turn Irina watched, feeling sick with worry as her handbag was emptied out and Brian’s briefcase was subject to the same treatment. They were finally told to put the contents back into their bags and allowed on to the tarmac and across to the mobile steps. They were both shaking as they climbed aboard and collapsed into their allocated seats exhausted. Irina gripped Brian’s hand as they stared out at the terminal building, expecting men in uniforms to rush out and arrest them. The half hour just sitting and waiting on the plane seemed like two hours, their apprehension only started to ease when they felt the jet move and then take off.
Within a short while they were above the clouds in brilliant sunshine and Irina quietly broke the silence. “Look Brian, the sun is shining on us. Perhaps I really will be able to make a new start in England.” She gripped his hand lightly, only relaxing when it was announced they were over West Germany, and she hugged him. “Oh Brian, you are a wonderful man. I’m free and I love you.”
“Well, as I said before, I didn’t have much choice.”
“Yes you did, you could have just walked off and left us both in that flat. And insisted you would only travel back with Sally.”
“That just goes to prove how a pretty girl can twist me around her little finger, doesn’t it?”
“I don’t believe that, I think I am more than just any girl.”
“Yes, I suppose you are, but how is Sally going to get away with it?”
“She’ll be starting a new job on Monday, where no one knows her.”
“What sort of job?”
“I can’t say exactly, because you may go back. But it’s sensitive.”
“Yes, I can imagine. And now Irina, I want you to tell me the truth. Did you shower me with love and affection because you wanted to, or because the Russians thought Sally and I were lovers? And you had to keep up appearances.”
“The truth is, at first I was so grateful for what you were going to do, I wanted to please you. But then I fell in love, and couldn’t get enough of you.” She frowned and whispered. “Did you make love with Sally?”
“No, I didn’t, but someone else did.”
“Oh yes, her ‘major’ friend.”
“That’s right, and the less said about him the better.”
“Quite so, you know I didn’t really consider what the Russians thought about our relationship.”
“I think they thought Sally and I were lovers from the first time they saw us.”
“Did they really? So we didn’t disappoint them?” The removal of danger made them light headed, resulting in them chatting and laughing about inconsequential things until they were about to land. “This wig is making me itch,” remarked Irina.
“Well, you better not take it off until we clear customs.”
“Then I will be leaving you.” She said sadly.
“Yes, I’m afraid so.”
“But I still want you.” She grabbed his hand, placing in her lap and against her body.
“I’m sorry, but we can’t see each other again. We were thrown together in a dangerous situation, and now it has to end.”
Tears came to her eyes as she whispered. “I know I’ll have to try to live without you.”
“You’ll make a lot of new friends. A beautiful woman like you will have men queuing up for a date.”
“But I don’t want other men, just you.”
Brian felt very sorry for her, and for himself. He no more liked the prospect of never seeing each other again than she did.
They strolled through customs with just a glance at their passports, and mingled with the crowds of travellers. A fair haired woman in her thirties rushed up to Irina. “Hello Jane. Did you have a good trip?”
Irina hesitated. Oh, hello, yes it was great.”
“I’ve got a car waiting for us. Hello, Brian, how are you?”
“Fine, and yourself?”
“Much better for seeing you. Anna will be here in a minute. I saw here parking her car.”
“That’s wonderful. Cheerio Jane.” Irina, with tears in her eyes, was quickly ushered away and Brian watched with a lump in his throat as she got in a car and was whisked away.
He was still staring in the direction of the disappearing car when Anna ran up and flung her arms around him. He felt guilty and delighted at the same time.
The weekend was spent resting and reflecting upon his recent adventure. The couple’s lovemaking the following morning was intense and satisfying, making Brian hope he would never see Irina again.
Sally spent Saturday morning shopping, washing and doing chores in the flat. As she was trying on more of Irina’s clothes, she thought she would very soon adjust to her new surroundings, which were much better than she expected.
On Sunday morning she went out for a walk, finding a park with tall trees, grass and paths meandering through bushes, some making their way to a central lake. She walked down one of these paths, and glancing behind, she noticed a tall dark- haired man wearing a trench coat about fifty yards away. She kept going, although she had to slow down due to the slippery surface. Two hundred yards further on she heard heavy footsteps getting closer, and automatically moved aside for a person to pass, but tripped on a root and fell against a tree. A male voice said. “I’m sorry for making you trip. Let me help you?” She felt a strong arm under her armpit, lifting her to her feet and found herself by his side. “Are you feeling steady enough to walk?”
“Yes, I’m fine now, thank you.”
“Would you mind if I join you for a while?”
“Please do, you never know I might fall again.”
They stopped at a park bench and waited while a group of noisy hikers passed by. Others approached as he said. “Let me introduce myself. My name is Vasily Anichkova.”
“Pleased to meet you. And I’m Irina Svechin.”
“Irina, that’s a nice name. Do you live locally?”
“Yes, I have a flat about ten minutes walk from here.”
“Shall we walk to the lake?”
“That would be nice.” They chatted about the wildlife on the lake, and walked beyond it to a deserted area of woodland where they sat on a fallen tree trunk.
Vasily looked around. “Well done Sally. So far so good.”
“Don’t call me Sally. You might slip up at the wrong time.”
“You’re right, dearest Irina. You’re still beautiful, despite the face lift.”
“You won’t go off me then?”
“Of course not. I still love you as much as ever.”
“I’ve been worried because of the way I look and that you wouldn’t want me any more.”
“But you’re still gorgeous.”
“So are you, as handsome as ever my love.”
“The English couple got off all right.”
“Good, I was worried about them.”
“They appeared to be very close.”
“So they acted the part well, then?”
“Very well indeed.”
“Will I have a visit from the KGB tonight?”
“No, I’m sorry, but it’s too soon. We’ll have to be seen together a bit more first.”
“Yes, I suppose you’re right.”
“If we meet regularly, it won’t take long.”
“The sooner, the better, as far as I am concerned.”
“I think about a week should be enough time.”
“Good, because I’ve gone to a hell of a lot of trouble to be with you.”
“I know my love. And I do appreciate it.” They walked back through the park and parted outside her block of flats.
Sally spent a sleepless night, tossing and turning, and worr
ying about the job she was about to undertake in the morning. Although fluent in Russian, she still wondered if anyone would detect a hint of a foreign accent or notice a mispronounced word. Then she thought about her assumed life story, which she had studied over and over again. Would someone catch her out over some minor detail in Irina’s past, like describing the town where she was born or who was her schoolteacher? Would they believe her when she said she had no boyfriends before coming to Moscow? Or what if a childhood friend should turn up, what would she do then?”
The next morning she dressed in Irina’s most formal attire. She ate a light breakfast whilst studying Irina’s paperwork, which she had to take with her. It was all in order so she put it in a large handbag. The journey to work took twenty minutes, and she felt less nervous as she joined the throng of office workers looking straight ahead with blank expressions, who clogged the footpaths.
When she turned the corner, immediately in front of her was a large grey stone building surrounded by a heavy steel fence and with guards standing by a sentry box at the gate. She nervously approached, gripping her pass, and was looked up and down by a guard who examined her pass and said. “You are new here, so you must go to the reception office first. It’s on the right.” He pointed towards a door. She nodded, strolled through the open door and stood by a hatchway in the wall. A man examined her pass again and told her to wait, and a few minutes later a short stocky bald- headed man appeared. “Irina Svechin? Follow me please.” They climbed two flights of well- worn stairs and along a corridor to an unmarked door at the end of a passage. He led her in. “This is your office. Wait in here until you receive further instructions.”
He disappeared, shutting the door behind him. She gazed at the plain room which contained a desk, a chair and a small table by the desk with a typewriter on it. The small room, about ten feet square, was well lit by a window with frosted glass and a large overhead light. She waited nervously for half an hour when a man entered, who was about forty, with black hair, of medium height and well built. He spoke with a low pitched voice. “Welcome comrade Svechin. I’m your only contact in this building and my name is Colonel Pokrovsky, but you will address me at all times as Sir. Is that understood?”
“Yes Sir.”
“You will have no need to leave this office, except to report to me straight across the corridor, or go home. You have your own washroom.” He pointed towards a door by the window. “You’re allowed one hour for lunch, unless that’s inconvenient of course. It’s most important that you only talk to me whilst you work in this building and speak to no one about your paperwork.”
“I completely understand Sir.”
“Good, I’m sure we will get along well.”
“What will my duties consist of, Sir?”
“Your duties will be many and varied, but mainly sorting out information submitted by our people overseas. Translating it where necessary, and presenting it to me in an orderly manner.”
“That sounds interesting, Sir.”
“It will be, but top secret, don’t forget. I’ve read your dossier and note you’re well used to handling sensitive information.”
“That’s correct, Sir.”
“I also note you’re single,” he said thoughtfully.
She noticed a slight change in his expression. “Yes Sir, I am.”
“I find that quite surprising, for an attractive woman like you.”
“I’ve not been very lucky, Sir.”
“I see, perhaps your luck will change now you live in Moscow.”
“I hope so.”
“You’ll find everything you need in this office. So look around and get settled in. I’ll be back with some work later.” He turned and left the room.
She suddenly felt the need to use the wash room, where she found the facilities clean and complete. Her desk drawers were filled with writing materials and dictionaries, and feeling less nervous she sat in her chair looking forward to discovering what her first task would be. It arrived an hour later in the form of a hand written letter from England for translation. It was easy to read, and as she typed it she wondered why anyone would be interested in what appeared to be a normal chatty letter between friends. She pinned the original to her typed version, knocked on the door opposite her office and entered when commanded. Her boss looked up from a large oak desk and smiled. “That was exceptionally quick. I can see we’ll get on well together.”
“Thank you Sir, I’m sure we will.”
She glanced around the large office, which had a settee and easy chairs grouped together, the walls lined with bookshelves and box files and there were two other doors. He noticed her curiosity and said. “Go into the kitchen and make us some tea.” He nodded towards the appropriate door where all the necessary materials were in evidence and she returned with two cups of tea. He looked up. “Sit down over there.” She sat on the couch and he sat opposite in one of the chairs. He set out what he expected her to do and the routine she should follow, and when she returned to her office she hoped she had memorised everything.
As she walked home that evening, Sally felt confident that she would be successful in deceiving the powerful and treacherous organisation she had chosen to work for, and considered herself lucky to have what seems like a very reasonable boss.
That evening Vasily met her at a café, and they chatted together over a meal. “Did you have a good day in the office? He asked.
“Yes, very good thank you. How was your day?”
“Oh much the same as usual.” They carried on chatting until it was time to go home, when he escorted her to her flat, kissed her briefly and reluctantly departed.
This became the set pattern over the next few days; each night he asked her if she had a good day in the office, and she always replied ‘very good, thank you.’ Each night their goodnight kiss became longer and the parting harder.
On Friday Sally was handed a note which had just arrived from England, which she translated and memorised. The contents described the activities of a high-ranking politician with access to military secrets. That evening she met Vasily for dinner. As had become normal he asked “Did you have a good day at the office?”
“Yes very interesting, thank you. And how was yours?”
“Fine thanks. Would you like to have a picnic in the park on Sunday?”
“Oh yes. That would be nice.”
A group of men entered the restaurant and Vasily greeted them. “I’d like you to meet a good friend of mine.” They all smiled, shook hands with Sally, but then left the couple to finish their meal.
Sally and Vasily did not meet on Saturday, which gave her the opportunity to clean the flat and go shopping. On Sunday she took a bag of food and a big flask of tea to the park, and they walked to the same fallen tree trunk and sat down to enjoy their lunch. Vasily complimented her on the food and said “How are you getting on with your new boss?”
“Very well. He seems like a nice man.”
“That’s good, because some of the men in that place are far from nice.”
“Yes, I can imagine. But my boss has just started calling me Irina.”
“Has he now? I hope he isn’t thinking of embarking on an affair with you.”
“No, of course he isn’t.” She sounded irritated.
They finished their meal and she folded up a piece of wrapping paper and slipped it in the hollow end of the tree trunk. She put the other paper and flask in her bag, and they walked away in the direction of the lake, having decided to feed the ducks with the leftover crusts of bread. They stayed for an hour, and a jogger wearing a loose fitting track suit ran by as they headed back towards town. The couple glanced at each other momentarily before proceeding towards her flat, and having decided they needed a drink, Vasily accepted Sally’s invitation to come inside. He examined the lounge slowly as she prepared tea, and then looked around the other rooms before joi
ning her on the settee. He kissed her neck and asked “Who did you have an affair with to get this flat?”
She elbowed him in the ribs. “No one, you dirty old man.”
“Come off it, Irina. How does a beautiful Russian girl get a flat like this without screwing for it?”
“Hard work, of course. Vasily Anichkova, you’ve got a dirty mind.”
“Yes, and in a minute I’ll show you how dirty.” They talked for a while before moving into the bedroom.
They kissed passionately as they stood by the bed, which triggered an explosion of lust and desire and their clothes became a barrier between them. After clawing and tearing at each other’s buttons, zips and fasteners, these were rapidly removed, and they were naked in no time at all. He stood back for a second to admire the beautiful woman standing with her legs slightly apart, before launching himself at her. They both released their pent up sexual desire in a frenzy of activity, culminating in intense orgasms for both, after which they lay together panting as they cooled off. He found his voice first. “My God, I needed that, it was fantastic!”
“Yes, it seems ages since you crept into my hotel room.”
“It was risky, but worth it.”
“Will you come and live with me here?”
Yes, but not yet.”
“I gather things have to proceed slowly.”
“I’m afraid so, but in the meantime we can get together regularly.”
Sally went to work the next morning feeling refreshed and confident. She translated several messages from England, one of which she memorised carefully, and took them to her boss, who ordered her to make tea. They sat opposite each other, as usual, and he looked thoughtful. Sally said nothing, not wishing to interrupt his deliberations, but at last he spoke. “I hear you’ve found a boyfriend?”
“Yes, I met him in the park last Sunday.”
“And do you go to the park often?”
“Quite often. I find it relaxing.”
“So do I. It’s good to walk in the country after working in the city. Tell me, do you know what your young man does for a living?”
“No Sir. He didn’t say.”
“You must never discuss your job.”