People were coming and going all the time, and it was quieter than I would have thought. Small children walked calmly, holding the hands of old ladies; older children didn’t look around and fidget. I leaned back and crossed my legs thinking that I should have got an ice cream.
I liked Moscow. I liked having spare money for ice cream, I liked skipping queues and going to the best hotels and restaurants. I didn’t mind rude staff and the odd dodgy course. I was important here in a way I would never be in England.
A woman walked away from the obelisk with a large black dog panting beside her. I looked up at her. She wasn’t wearing her purple hat today. When she smiled I smiled back. She sat next to me, and her dog sat too.
‘I recognise you from the festival, don’t I?’ she said.
‘I am with the festival, yes. Small world, I suppose, us festival people. I’ve seen you in the Metropol too.’
She nodded. ‘That’s right. I saw you last night with your striking wife.’
‘Oh, not my wife. A colleague. A reviewer, like me.’
The woman bowed her head. ‘I’m sorry if I offended you.’
‘Not at all. She’s gorgeous.’ I flushed. ‘Just not my wife.’ I fidgeted and made moves to leave.
‘Please stay,’ she said. ‘I’ve upset you.’
‘No, I embarrassed myself.’ I settled back. ‘You’re not a reviewer are you?’
‘No.’
‘A translator?’
‘I do work as one, but I’m more of a consultant to these translators. I have experience of British culture, so I can explain some of the more subtle or obscure references.’
‘I didn’t realise that they would employ British people like that. Do you speak Russian too?’
‘Oh, yes. I live in Moscow.’
This was who I had been looking for. Someone I could talk to, interview, to get a sense of life in Moscow. She stroked her dog’s head.
‘That is a massive dog.’
‘Do you like dogs?’
‘Not really. I’m sure it’s very nice, but I’m not keen on dogs generally.’
She shrugged. ‘I’m just looking after it while my friend is away.’
In the distance a bell started to chime. It was noon and I was late.
‘I’m so sorry, I have to run,’ I said as I stood up, ‘but I’d like to speak to you again, find out what Moscow is really like.’
‘Of course. I’m sure we’ll bump into each other again.’ She held out her hand, ‘Eva Mann.’
I shook it. ‘Ted Walker. See you around.’ I ran across the road when I saw a gap, and jogged back to the Natsional.
‘Papers,’ said the doorman.
I rummaged through my pockets, grumbling. ‘You never asked before.’
He looked at the chit carefully before handing it back, and nodding. That was odd. I turned to look at him as I went down the corridor. He was still watching me. And I him.
They were waiting for me. Ursula looked nervous and Christopher looked annoyed. It was his day off, I supposed. I sat between them.
‘Still got an appetite?’ asked Ursula.
‘Sorry?’
‘After seeing the body.’
‘Oh, Lenin, yes. It was all very tasteful, really.’
Christopher was eager to start. ‘Ursula has ordered for you both. I don’t have long.’ He cleared his throat. ‘We have found Alan. He hasn’t been able to give me permission to talk to you, and you’re not related, so I’m going to have to give you a very brief summary of the facts.’
‘Hasn’t been able to give permission?’ Ursula repeated.
Christopher sighed, and looked outside as he spoke. ‘He was taken into hospital in the early hours of Saturday morning. It seems the dezhurnaya, the floor attendant, heard a crash and went to check on him.’
He was lying. Or was repeating something he didn’t believe? I looked at Ursula. She was frowning.
‘He has been on a drip since. They have ruled out serious conditions, the heart or a stroke, but the doctors have prevented me from speaking to him as he is too unwell. They say.’
Ursula gripped my hand harder.
‘Did you see him at all?’ I asked.
‘I saw him through glass. He recognised me and lifted his hand.’
Ursula said, ‘So, that’s a good sign?’
‘Yes,’ Christopher said, uncertainly. ‘We’d prefer to speak to him directly, but they have told me to come back tomorrow.’
‘What do you think happened?’ I said.
‘I couldn’t say.’ He shuffled his cutlery, and sipped from a glass of water. ‘I was wondering, when I saw you at the Metropol on Friday night, which restaurant did you go to?’
Ursula clasped her hands together. ‘We went to our usual restaurant as Ted only had vouchers. We couldn’t go to the cash bar, and the restaurant was emptier than you suggested.’
Christopher half-smiled and nodded. ‘I see.’
‘Was there a danger in there?’ asked Ursula. ‘Did something happen in the restaurant?’
He sat back and shifted the cutlery again. ‘I’m sure not. Anyway, we have found him, and that’s good. After I see him tomorrow I will let you know the latest.’ He pushed his chair back, nodded, and left as our soup arrived.
We both looked at the soup, and then each other.
‘Didn’t we all eat the same at the Metropol?’ I asked.
Ursula nodded. ‘I ordered the same for everyone.’
I picked up my spoon. ‘Well, we’ve eaten there again, and we’re all right. So, I’m sure it’s fine.’ I put my spoon back next to the bowl. ‘I don’t think I’m hungry.’
Ursula stared into her soup, shook herself and began to eat. ‘Come on,’ she said. ‘We can’t starve. Alan will be fine and so will we.’
‘Do you contact each other between festivals? I mean, do you know where he lives?’
‘The embassy would deal with all that, contacting his office.’
‘And his wife. He never mentions her. Will you write to her?’
‘I got the impression that she wouldn’t approve of him being friends with someone like me.’
If he had to leave Moscow she wouldn’t ever know what happened to him. If it was bad he wouldn’t ever come back. ‘How do you know each other will be here each year?’
‘I get my magazine to contact his magazine.’ She smiled. ‘They’ve never asked why.’
We’d both given up halfway through the soup.
‘Are you all right to go and see the films we planned?’
‘Yes.’ She pushed her bowl away. ‘I don’t think I’ll be going out to eat, though. I need some time. Will you come with me to the Beriozka?’
Now I understood why she liked to have someone with her, watching the people around her.
‘Of course. You have to keep the herring stocked up.’
CHAPTER 24
As Ursula did her shopping I looked at the ikons, matryoshka dolls and lace. I wondered whether I should buy something to take home. I moved to the guidebook section and decided on Москва Moscow, which now even I knew was just Moscow written twice. I liked the photos and decided I should go to a gallery or museum before I left. That had been the best part of Bucharest, even though it had never crossed my mind to visit a museum in London. The book, a bottle of wine, and I’d settle down after a quick dinner to write up my review notes. They’d become a bit sparse and I was worried my memories of the films were starting to merge into each other.
Ursula paid up, let me carry her bag, and we walked back to the Natsional, arm-in-arm. The sun was setting behind us.
‘It feels like the end of a film,’ said Ursula.
It did feel like the end of something. I couldn’t think what to say. We’d barely spoken since we’d seen Christopher.
In the lobby I gave her the bag with her food in, and took mine to the café. I ordered wine with pelmeni, the small meat dumplings fried with butter, and took my notebook from my pocket. Tonight I would eat
and work. Tonight I would earn my money.
Just as my food arrived, someone sat at my table. I made a big deal of closing my notebook.
‘Are you eating here, Christopher?’
‘I wanted to speak to you alone,’ he said, leaning close to me. ‘Your friend — what exactly is her relationship with Alan?’
‘Platonic. They’re both married.’
He raised his eyebrows, but didn’t point out that meant nothing. ‘For how long has this been going on?’
I was confused. ‘You know Alan, don’t you?’
‘I just want to know what they told you.’
‘This is their fifth festival together. Alan came alone to one before that.’
‘All right.’ Christopher looked around. ‘So, there is nothing really between them to exploit, except a long friendship. They are just always together. And now you. Think back to Friday at the Metropol. Was there anyone in the restaurant who seemed to be paying particular attention to you as a group?’
I thought back. ‘No.’
‘Or Alan as an individual? Did anyone leave the room after him when he went to the toilet, or did anyone speak to him as you were leaving?’
‘I can’t think of anything.’ I wasn’t sure about the way he was looking at me. ‘Why?’
He rubbed his chin and sat back. I waited for him to speak, eating my pelmeni before they got cold. He thought Alan had been approached in the Metropol, but why would that put him in hospital? And, if he hadn’t had contact with anyone there…
‘Do you think I did something to him? Or Ursula?’
He said nothing.
I put my fork down. ‘Why would either of us do that? I’ve only known him a few days, and Ursula has been his friend over years. What exactly happened to him?’
Christopher leaned back in. ‘Apart from Alan and Ursula, who else have you been spending time with?’
‘No one. There’s only one other British reporter and Alan can’t bear him. Terence. I haven’t even met him. Then there are the Americans who are so paranoid that they only talk to other Americans. That’s what Alan said. I haven’t met them either. I don’t speak any other languages, so that’s been it. Alan and Ursula.’
‘Alan and Ursula.’
‘Yes.’
I decided to leave it there, carry on eating and let him talk if he wanted to. He leaned back and watched me eat. I concentrated, but still managed to drip some melted butter on my trousers. Another stain. I looked at the circle bleeding outwards and mentally gave away another handful of pounds for a new pair. It wasn’t rational, but I blamed him for that.
He spoke quietly, looking at his fingernails. ‘I walked down Manezhnaya to meet you and Ursula earlier.’
I shrugged.
‘It’s the road that runs past the Alexander Gardens.’
I swallowed. ‘Alexandrovsky Gardens, I think you’ll find.’ I don’t know what made me say that. He was just annoying me.
He nodded, but didn’t speak.
‘So?’ He didn’t look at me. I thought back to the gardens, the wall, the bench. ‘Are you asking me about what I did? About the woman I was talking to?’
Now he made eye contact. ‘Can you tell me who that was?’
‘I can tell you what that was. That was none of your business.’ I pushed the rest of my food away. ‘I’ve done what I was told. I haven’t had to resist women throwing themselves at me, I haven’t spoken to any Russians, I haven’t exchanged money on a street corner, I haven’t bought any ikons. I haven’t done anything to be questioned like this.’ I pushed my notebook and guidebook into the carrier bag with the wine and stood up to leave. Christopher put a hand on my sleeve.
‘You are the reason that Alan didn’t follow my instructions. You are the one who made him go to the wrong restaurant. If you would like some advice, Ted, I would spend less time with foreigners and more time with the British people who have been vetted as film festival attendees.’
I shook his hand off. ‘I would be spending time with Alan if I could. And the person I was seen speaking to, Eva Mann, is English and she is connected to the festival.’
‘Is she?’
I was thrown by that. ‘She sounds very English.’
‘What role does she have at the festival?’
‘She’s a consultant translator.’
‘She’s not.’ He raised his eyebrows. ‘The Russians don’t employ consultant translators. They have entire universities set up for the study of languages. They travel abroad, they study hard, they train them up at the Illusion cinema. They get seven roubles a film, or more. It’s a competitive business, and they do not like outsiders. Think about what you know about the Soviets, and don’t accept what people tell you.’
I sat down, my bag on my lap. ‘So, what is her role, then?’
He pressed his finger on the table. ‘Never mind her role. Your role, Ted, is to stay away from her. Spend time with Terence while Alan is indisposed.’
‘What about Ursula?’
‘Ursula is not my concern. The British are my concern, people like you and me. I only want to make sure that you are safe, but I can’t be everywhere. I know this is all new and strange, and how liberating that can feel. But you are responsible for the decisions you make here, so, please, make good choices.’
We looked at each other. I could sense he wanted me to agree with him so he could feel reassured and walk away. I knew he wanted me to see what we had in common, us British men, but I could only see the differences. I said nothing.
He stood up. ‘Watch your back, Ted.’
He left me in the bar. I had wanted to walk out and leave him sitting there. He wanted me to abandon Ursula, but she was my concern, whatever he said. I wasn’t like Christopher and I never wanted to be.
I wasn’t in the mood to sit quietly in my room, so I decided to have a walk before I went upstairs. The streets were quiet again. No drunken gangs of teenagers. No skinheads. Not like London.
I walked through the underpass where there were a couple of stalls, and I was approached by a short, dark-haired man.
‘Ikons?’ he said.
I shook my head and picked up speed. It was my first approach and, although I’d been expecting it since I arrived, I was unsettled. Had I walked away fast enough? Was he following me? I half ran up the cobbled slope to Red Square, the wine banging against my leg, and then slowed before a guard could shout at me. Were there too many police here, too many soldiers? I noticed them around the Kremlin, but it was the centre of a city. I suppose they didn’t worry me, so it hadn’t felt too many. Now that someone had come up to me, tried to involve me in something dangerous, it looked as if there were far too many of them. I blamed Christopher for this too, making me feel guilty for no reason.
I arrived at the Kremlin just before the hour struck on the tower clock, and saw the exchange of sentries again. The river created a large dark space in the distance where there were no buildings, and I felt anxious about walking further and traced my steps back towards the Natsional. I thought I saw Christopher in conversation with a man on a corner, but I wasn’t sure.
I wondered what he believed had happened to Alan. At least I could be sure that he wouldn’t talk to Ursula about Alan without me. She was Alan’s oldest and closest friend here, but she wasn’t British. I wondered what had really happened to Alan to prompt all of this. And while I also wondered what Terence was like, I knew I wouldn’t exchange time I could spend with Ursula for anyone else.
KGB Second Chief Directorate
2nd Department: British Commonwealth
‘FISHERMAN’ ADDITIONAL REPORT:
FOR ADDITION TO WALKER FILE
Background Report on the Recent Professionalisation
of Journalism in Britain
In Britain, mass education raises two issues related to journalism. First, it removes some of the autonomy and influence of educators: by making journalism an academic subject which can be tested, it allows the state to supervise the key subjects
and approaches of new entrants to the industry. Second, it inevitably ensures that new entrants are more middle class than those accepted through traditional apprenticeships.
Professionalisation, using the universities to exclude, rather than educate, is already underway. However, there is much we can do to further the advancement of individuals whose lives have not benefited from the rigidity of the establishment and feel no natural ties to its maintenance. Early work in this field has shown that valid concerns voiced by government services, regarding those who might be seen as our fellow travellers, have not resulted in those journalists being barred from employment, or even becoming editors themselves. Even unsympathetic editors can usually be relied on to be driven by the desire for the story, whatever its origins.
CHAPTER 25
I regretted the wine when I woke up at ten o’clock. It hadn’t resulted in a thoughtful summary of the films I’d seen, but a scrawling rant which seemed to be largely about Christopher. I threw it away. No one had woken me. I’d missed the start of this morning’s film, but they served breakfast in the restaurant until eleven, so I had a quick wash and left my key with the attendant. Day or night, it was the same woman sitting there. When did she sleep?
Ursula was in the seat she’d been in yesterday, staring out of the window. Her face was drawn, the dark hollows under her eyes deeper. The cutlery on her plate signalled that she had finished eating, but she’d left a lot of food.
She must have seen my reflection because she turned suddenly.
‘Ted, you’re here!’
She held a hand out to me, which I took and then awkwardly dropped so I could sit down.
‘Are you all right?’ she said. ‘You don’t look very well.’
‘Too much wine. I couldn’t sleep so I kept drinking, but I feel like I drank more than one bottle. I forgot to order a call or a breakfast.’
The Starlings of Bucharest Page 15