IN THE MORNING, he left Anya sleeping peacefully exactly where he had left her, on her side in his bed. On his way across the playground he saw a dozen kids, carrying flashlights, on their way to school. He dropped in to the principal’s office on his way to the power station and told her that Anya was feeling under the weather. Despite his best lying face, she gave him a knowing look of disapproval, which he did not think was fair. How the hell could she know that Anya had drunk herself into unconsciousness? She could have been sick. He resisted the temptation to start a row with her.
He guessed that Anya would surface around lunchtime, with a sore head. Coffee and a light meal would fix her. He resolved to check in on her at one o’clock.
Around mid-morning, Timur walked into the control room, without knocking, and looked at Yuri with a loaded expression. Yuri wondered if he could have discovered that Semyon’s file was missing from his office. It had been stupid to take it on impulse, without having thought the risks through. He hadn’t even hidden it well in his apartment. He had been so distracted by Anya’s state when he got home that he had just kicked it under the bed. It would take a good lie to explain how it got there.
‘Catherine,’ said Timur, ‘would you mind if I have a private word with your boss here?’
Catherine turned to Yuri for his approval.
‘Of course,’ she said, after he raised no objection. She walked by Timur to grab her coat and hat.
‘You’re very kind,’ said Timur, with an annoying smirk.
‘Shall I come back in half an hour?’ she asked.
‘No, five minutes is all I need.’
Yuri’s heart rate quickened as he foresaw the end of his life here in Pyramiden. He could only guess what the punishment might be for the burglary of a KGB office and the theft of a confidential file. Murderers probably got less.
Timur looked around at the various machines and dials.
‘Quite a system you’ve built here, Yuri. You must be a clever man. Do you agree you are a clever man?’
He thought it best to give a non-committal shrug to this one.
‘Am I in trouble for something?’ he asked, after losing patience waiting for Timur to spill the beans.
‘Not really, no,’ said Timur. ‘At least not for anything you’ve done. Your girlfriend, Anya. Her drinking has become a problem.’
So everyone knew about them, Yuri realised, even though they had been discreet when other people were around. Nothing stayed secret for long in Pyramiden. And especially not from Timur, whose job it was to keep tabs on them all.
‘A problem for who, exactly?’ Yuri asked.
‘For me, and therefore you. She had to be sent home from the school today after making some sort of a scene in front of the children. There were tears apparently.’
Damn it, thought Yuri. She must have woken and gone to work after all. No doubt she smelled like a distillery. And he had set her up for a bigger fall with the story he had told the school principal.
‘The parents were none too happy,’ continued Timur. ‘If anyone is going to shout drunkenly at their kids, I think they would prefer if it was them.’
Yuri wanted to find her straight away, but Timur was enjoying taking his time. He wished there was some sort of test that people had to go through before they were given power over others. Anyone considered likely to abuse that power should automatically fail.
‘Are you going to get to the point of this any time soon?’ Yuri asked. ‘Because if not, I’d like to go and see how she is.’
Timur was not pleased about being rushed.
‘All right,’ he said. ‘Here’s the deal. From today, I am making Anya your responsibility. If she shouts at a kid again, I am going to blame you. If she comes to work smelling of booze, I am going to blame you. If she gets out of line in any way, I am going to blame you. Got it?’
‘That’s not exactly fair,’ said Yuri. ‘Maybe she had one too many last night. She’s not the only one who drinks in this town.’
‘No,’ agreed Timur. ‘But the miners can drink all they like. She works with children. So she can’t just do whatever the hell she wants. Let me put it like this, if you can’t control her, I will. Now you can go find her, if you want.’
Yuri did not move. He waited for Timur to leave so he could gather his thoughts. He had known from the beginning that Anya was going to be trouble, so none of this came as a surprise. But now, if he was to keep her, this situation would need careful handling.
Yuri found her in the canteen drinking coffee. Her face was colourless, and she looked shaken. She was staring up at the mural on the wall, the Arctic scene with its large yellow sun beaming down. Yuri sat down beside her.
‘I don’t know how you stand it without the sun for so long, every year,’ she said. ‘I think I’d lose my mind if I had to ever do it again.’
‘What happened at the school?’ asked Yuri.
She turned to face him and he saw that she was ashamed. ‘How did you know something happened?’
‘Timur paid me a visit,’ he replied. ‘I have been tasked with keeping an eye on you.’
Anya laughed. ‘Weren’t you doing that already?’
‘Not well enough, apparently.’
She held her cup in both hands. Despite her best efforts to control them, they shook as she brought the coffee to her lips.
‘I’m fine. It’s just something that happened once. It’s not a big deal. I don’t need looking after.’
‘I think you do,’ he said. ‘It’s my fault too. I need to try harder.’
‘And what do you care, Yuri?’ she asked.
Her raised voice made the waitresses look over in their direction.
‘I care,’ he said. ‘You know I do.’
She looked at him strangely, like she had that very first time.
‘It isn’t you … is it? You’re not the one?’
Yuri sighed, and touched her hand.
‘You’ve got to stop this. It isn’t healthy. No one is coming to meet you.’
Anya gave him an angry glance, and pulled her hand away from his.
‘They told me to come here. For nothing. Three months I’ve been waiting.’
‘Who told you?’ he asked.
‘Do you know why they’ve ignored me? Because I am a nobody – nothing. I used to be someone. Now look at me. Look where I have ended up.’
It occurred to him again that maybe she was crazy, and her obsession with this absent visitor was all in her head.
‘You’re with me. Isn’t that something?’
She shook her head. ‘You’re a good guy, Yuri. But I am not what you need. Maybe we shouldn’t see each other any more.’
‘I am afraid that’s not possible,’ he replied. ‘You are now officially my responsibility. If we stop seeing each other, I will be in trouble. We are stuck together.’
‘You would be better off without me. And you have your little foreign dolly bird, don’t you?’
Yuri smiled. He was pleased to detect a hint of jealousy in her tone.
‘I work with her, that’s all. Catherine is not my dolly bird. You still haven’t told me what happened at the school.’
She closed her eyes for a second, the memory of the incident obviously raw.
‘I was still drunk from last night. And this morning when I went in, they wouldn’t stop talking. Yak, yak, yak, in their little high-pitched voices. I told them not to. I didn’t shout. But it was going right through my head, and when they kept on doing it, I just lost it. I shouldn’t have. Poor little things. I don’t think they knew what hit them. They are good kids really. I’m going to apologise to them tomorrow. I didn’t get a chance to do it today because the headteacher came in when she heard them crying and she ordered me out.’
Yuri was thankful he had not witnessed this scene.
‘How many of them were crying?’ he asked.
‘All. All of them. One started, and that set them all off. Like a choir. The more I tried to calm them down, the louder they got.’
Yuri sighed. ‘I want you to promise that you’ll stop drinking. If you don’t you’ll lose your job at the school. Do you want that?’
Anya looked over at the waitresses, who were still watching them from the far side of the room.
‘I hate my job,’ she said. ‘But no, I don’t want to lose it, it’s the only one I’ve got. I will stop drinking. For you. Because you are the only one who likes me.’
Yuri smiled, even though he knew she did not mean it. At least if he could get her to stay dry for a while, that would be something.
‘More coffee?’ he asked.
‘Yes please. Keep it coming.’
‘And something to eat?’
‘Yes, I probably should. Though I’m not sure my stomach will agree.’
Yuri loaded a tray for her, with fresh coffee and potato pancakes. Then he sat and watched her eat.
‘I’ve been a bad girl,’ she said, between mouthfuls, ‘but the punishment is not so bad, being looked after by you.’
‘My pleasure.’
‘No, I mean it,’ she said. ‘Thank you, Yuri.’
He shrugged. ‘Less talking and more eating. The food will help.’
He wanted to think that this incident was the start of a turning point for her, and for them. But he didn’t really believe that. Not yet anyway. There was still something in her eyes that said she was not at peace with herself.
The next morning, Yuri escorted a nervous, sober Anya through the lamp-lit streets to the front door of the school. They had rehearsed what she would say, both to the principal and to the children. It would not be acting. She was genuinely sorry, and wanted to put it behind her. Between themselves, they had made a pact to avoid alcohol completely for a whole month. This was not something he would have chosen for himself, in December of all months, but it certainly would not do his body any harm. And he reckoned she needed as much support as she could get. As she said herself, he was the only one who seemed to take an interest in her. She had no friends among the other women. He had even heard one of them calling her the ice queen behind her back. He could understand where they were coming from. She was not open or welcoming, until she got to know people, which her closed manner made almost impossible. As far as he was concerned it was their loss. And he liked not having to share her with anyone.
Having deposited her safely at work, Yuri headed for the power station. He found that Catherine was not there. This was unusual as she was more diligent and conscientious than any Soviet worker he had ever come across. She even put the great Stakhanov, the originator of mine hand-drilling, in the shade.
Yuri was not in the mood for doing any work. He was sitting in a chair, thinking about Anya, when he noticed a note stuck to one of the monitoring machines.
Fire in back-up generator. Gone to investigate. Catherine.
He grabbed his coat and bolted for the door. Outside, he skidded on ice but managed to right himself and kept on going. Grigory waved him down as he passed.
‘Do you have a minute, Yuri?’ he asked.
‘No. Sorry. Later,’ said Yuri, without stopping.
‘What’s wrong?’ Grigory shouted after him.
‘Nothing. I hope.’
Yuri barged in the door of the shed that housed the back-up generators. Catherine was standing with her back to him, screwing the front cover back on to one of the machines. The smell of burning lingered in the air, but whatever fire there had been was now out.
‘What are you doing?’ he demanded.
‘There was a bit of a blaze in here,’ she replied. ‘Nothing major. Although, it could have been if I had arrived any later. I put it out.’
‘On your own?’ he said angrily. ‘You don’t do something like that without calling me.’
‘I didn’t know where you were,’ she said, her tone rising to match his own. ‘And why can’t I do it on my own? Because I’m a woman?’
‘No,’ he said. ‘Because you are a temporary trainee. What happened?’
‘A short-circuit, I think. One of the wires burned right through. I think there must have been dust underneath, and it just took off.’
Yuri stared at her with suspicion. Since he had been here, he had never had a fire in any of these generators.
‘It was just getting going when I arrived,’ she said. ‘If I hadn’t, the whole place might have gone up.’
Yuri calmed. A genuine saboteur would have let everything burn.
‘You can leave that off,’ Yuri said. ‘I want to have a look.’
‘You don’t believe me?’ she asked.
Catherine pulled off the metal cover once more and Yuri spotted the unmistakable mark of a fresh burn on the back of her hand.
‘You’re injured,’ he said.
‘Oh, that. It’s nothing.’
‘Show me,’ he insisted.
He held her hand close. She winced when he touched the scar.
‘I’ll get you some cream for that,’ he said.
‘It’s fine. Really.’
Yuri looked inside the damaged generator, and it was as she had described it. A short-circuit more than likely, and the inside, underneath the motors, was filthy. They would all have to be cleaned to prevent the same thing happening again.
‘From now on, we need to stay in contact,’ he said. ‘I am going to get us each a radio. And you will keep yours with you twenty-four hours a day. All right?’
Catherine smiled. ‘Am I allowed to turn it off when I go to sleep?’
‘Yes, you can do that,’ Yuri agreed. ‘But that’s the only time. And promise me you will not try to put out any fires without me, or do anything else dangerous.’
‘I promise, I will try and find you first, with my radio,’ she said.
‘And if you can’t?’
‘Then … I’ll put out the fire by myself.’
‘No,’ he said. ‘You will try me again on the radio, and you will keep trying until you get me. OK?’
‘OK,’ she said with a sigh. ‘I don’t see what the fuss is about. I’m a big girl. I’m more than capable of handling myself.’
‘Tell that to your hand,’ he said.
This was exactly the kind of thing that Timur had warned him about. Suspicious fires in an essential piece of equipment, only witnessed by a newly arrived foreigner. He would not be mentioning any of this to the KGB man. For now, he believed her. But he knew from personal experience that a good saboteur could cover their tracks.
He dined with Anya in the canteen, without their customary drink beforehand. And there would be none to follow. The whole thing was a source of amusement, at least for the first day. He saw her looking longingly at a bottle of red wine on a nearby table. And when she looked back, she caught his stare and smiled. He knew this honeymoon wouldn’t last and there would definitely be harder times ahead. Her return to the school had gone better than expected. The principal had been understanding, and the children had behaved as if nothing had happened.
‘They’ve got short memories, for some things,’ said Yuri. ‘And they don’t hold grudges, not like adults.’
‘I hope so,’ said Anya. ‘I don’t want them to hate me.’
‘Did you ever think about having any yourself?’
Anya smiled as if the idea were ridiculous. ‘Kids? No.’
‘What about your husband?’ Yuri asked.
‘We were too busy, in the programme. He was all about the work. We never had enough time for each other, let alone to spend raising children. How about you?’
Yuri paused before answering. No one in Pyramiden knew about his family history, except for Grigory. No one knew because it was not something he had ever told anyone.
‘I have a son,’ he said.
He waited for her reaction as she took in this news.
‘What!’ said Anya. ‘Why didn’t you tell me before?’
Yuri shrugged. ‘I don’t see him. I married young, and me and his mother aren’t on exactly friendly terms.’
‘Well, when was the last time you saw him?’
‘Twenty years,’ said Yuri. ‘When he was six. He’d be the same age as English Catherine now.’
‘He’s a grown man?’
‘Yes,’ said Yuri. ‘Old enough to have had kids himself. He could have for all I know.’
‘Maybe he’d like to see you?’ said Anya.
‘I doubt that very much,’ said Yuri. ‘After twenty years, don’t you think it’s a bit late?’
‘No. You’re his father. You should write to him,’ said Anya.
‘No.’
‘Don’t you want to see him?’ she asked.
‘I was never a part of his life, so why start now. Just to make me feel less guilty? I do feel guilty but his mother didn’t want me to see him, so what could I do.’
‘You give up too easily on things, don’t you?’ she said. ‘Is that why you’re here, so you can put everything difficult in your life behind you?’
Yuri stared at her. He didn’t disagree with anything she had said. It was just unnerving the way she had figured him out so soon. Abstinence had already made her sharper. A noise from his coat pocket saved him from further personality dissection. He pulled the two-way radio out and put it on the table. They could both hear Catherine’s voice talking into hers.
‘I’m switching off now, Comrade Yuri,’ said Catherine. ‘Getting an early night. See you tomorrow.’
Anya glared at the radio. ‘What the hell is that?’
‘I got them for English Catherine, so I can keep track of her.’
‘Why do you need to keep track of her?’ asked Anya.
‘Her’ was said with a touch of venom.
Yuri smiled. ‘She got herself into a spot of bother today. I can get one for you too if you like. Maybe I should.’
Anya shook her head, and Yuri put the offending radio back into his coat pocket.
That night, as Anya slept beside him, Yuri lay wide awake, staring at the ceiling. The last time he had seen his son he had not known it would be for the last time. He had taken him, at a prearranged time, from his mother’s apartment to the local park. They chatted and fed stale bread to the ducks beside the frozen pond. They had a brief disagreement when the boy had wanted to skate on the ice; it was early winter and it was still too thin. Apart from that they had a pleasant day together. When he dropped him home, it was the usual wordless exchange with his mother. She didn’t even bother to make eye contact with him any more.
Two weeks later, he called at the door to arrange another visit, and a stranger told him that they had moved. It took him three months to find them. She had found a new man; they were living together. He was going to be a father to the boy, and neither of them wanted Yuri to be part of the equation. Yuri and the boy had no say in the matter.
He objected, of course, but he had little power to change the situation. And as days turned into weeks, he got used to the idea. It meant he was free, with no ties to anyone. He walked away, without looking back.
When he was six the boy had looked just like his mother. Straight fair hair, with two-tone eyes that were green on the outside and brown in the middle. Yuri wondered if he had grown up to look anything like him.
There was no chance of him falling asleep now, so he reached under his bed and his hand found Semyon’s file. He carried it over to the table and opened it. The early pages contained official typewritten reports. It was clear from these that Semyon had been an informer going all the way back to his student days in Latvia. He had even received several commendations for the diligence of his work for the state. Who knew what havoc he had sown over the years among friends, teachers and relations? Some people ended up being informers after being caught committing an offence. Faced with the choice of punishment or telling tales on their friends, most chose the latter. However, Yuri suspected it was Semyon’s ambition that had marked him out as a suitable candidate for recruitment.
None of Semyon’s Latvian reports were in the file, only the ones he had written since he had arrived in Pyramiden. The first bunch made Yuri laugh out loud. Anya stirred in the bed behind him, so he kept quiet. He turned the pages as silently as he could. If she had been drunk, as usual, she would have been sleeping more soundly.
The subjects of these first reports were Semyon’s Baltic buddies, the Lithuanians. Yuri compared the report dates to the ones in the notebook, and he discovered that Semyon had given them the coded name Bears. In his reports he had faithfully catalogued a litany of their drunken boasts about sabotaging Soviet interests in their homeland. However, in fairness to the little weasel, he did remark that he was not sure whether to take any of their claims at face value or whether it was all bar talk. Yuri had to agree. The Lithuanians had a high opinion of themselves, and a chip on their shoulders as big as the Berlin Wall. If they had found out that Semyon was informing on them they certainly would not have been pleased. Perhaps they would have been angry enough to commit murder. He imagined the three of them surrounding Semyon in the mine shaft, and having a row about his betrayal. One blow from the tall one with something heavy, and that would have been that.
But then why had the Lithuanians threatened him, and beaten him up, claiming to be Semyon’s best friend in the world? Unless that was a show they had put on for his benefit to keep him guessing.
He had another look at the pages that Semyon had written about him. A more thorough read confirmed his first impression. There was nothing in it that Timur would not have said to his face. And any accusations of sabotage or individualism, however merited, fell flat when set against the fact that this lauded Soviet outpost only functioned because of him. He didn’t give a shit about communism, or Soviet ambition, but he worked hard. Until now, this much had protected him.
The pages were handwritten by Semyon, and in the margins, here and there, another hand had made a few notes. Timur. Fuck him, thought Yuri. If he wanted to make trouble for him, he could give plenty in return.
Another report documented various conversations Semyon had had in the bar with a miner from Chechnya. Yuri remembered him. He had left on the last boat before winter, after his contract had expired. The man obviously had a loose tongue while drunk, as he had made a litany of comments about named party officials in his home town. For the most part, they were accusations of financial corruption. All of them were probably true. A non-corrupt party official in the Soviet Union was a rarity.
Timur had written a note to self at the end of this report.
Have this joker arrested as soon as he gets home.
The poor guy was to travel all the way home, oblivious to any problem, with his wife waiting at the dock. And he would be arrested in front of her for speaking the truth to someone who pretended to be his friend.
All of the reports had corresponding entries in Semyon’s notebook. Except for one. The Latvian had apparently done three reports on Eagle. But whatever these were, they were not in his KGB file.
The other reports were of minor interest, apart from one. For some reason, Semyon had made six short reports on Grigory. In the notebook he was Fox. Yuri read each report word for word. There was nothing in them that he could see. They were all innocuous conversations. Semyon had attempted to draw Grigory out on various contentious issues. But true to form, Grigory had replied with intelligent, philosophical answers. How peculiar, thought Yuri. Why had Semyon continued to approach Grigory, and to write reports about him, when he never once said anything incriminating? Perhaps Timur had made him do it. But what was so interesting about Grigory? And who did Eagle refer to?