That evening, Oleg Fedor Savadski reached the foot of the stairs from the upper floor, and wondered where he was. He looked around, his dressing-gown sash hanging loose around his pyjamas.
‘Goddammit,’ he muttered to himself. ‘They must’ve moved the bathroom again.’
Oleg knew that his mind was beginning to falter. Little things in his daily life had become a test for him, such as the whereabouts of his spectacles or the name of the thing that hung from the ceiling which glowed when he hit the switch. Of course, he knew it was the light bulb. Like the location of the bathroom, it would quickly come back to him. Even so, as he shuffled along the landing, Oleg wished he could do something to restore his wits.
It was the sound of gunfire and explosions that prompted him to stop outside Ivan’s bedroom. Despite his forgetfulness, Oleg’s memory of the Siege was vivid. Just hearing the crackle of a weapon transported him to the ruins of Leningrad in a blink. Without knocking, he opened the door and looked in on his grandson. Ivan was sitting on the edge of his bed with a videogame controller in his hands. His eyes were locked on the screen across the room. It showed some frenzied military skirmish, and was the source of all the noise.
‘Hi, Grandpa,’ he said, without looking around. At the same time, he squeezed a trigger on the controller. The sound of bullets spitting from a clip filled the room for a moment. ‘Are you looking for the loo again?’
‘It can wait,’ said Grandpa, watching the action on the screen. ‘Good game?’
‘Great game,’ said Ivan, who had yet to blink. ‘I love this level. If I can take out every mercenary I’ll get a weapons upgrade and then I’m practically unbeatable.’
‘Can I play?’
Ivan hit the pause button. The noise gave way to silence. Ivan faced his grandfather, surprised by the request.
‘Really?’
‘Got to keep my reflexes sharp somehow.’ Oleg closed the door behind him. ‘Now make room for an old man and pass me the other controller.’
It took a little while for Oleg to get to grips with the game. Thrilled that his grandfather should show an interest, Ivan patiently explained what to do, and even suggested that they fight on the same side.
‘I’ll be your wingman,’ he said. ‘Lock and load, Grandpa!’
‘The action is a little over the top,’ said Oleg, who was leaning forward to focus on the split screen in front of them. ‘But it reminds me of the old days, that’s for sure.’
For a moment, the pair focused on taking out an incoming wave of mercenaries.
‘What was it like?’ asked Ivan next. ‘During the war?’
‘Grim,’ said Oleg. ‘Like hell on earth, with just a taste of Heaven every now and then.’
‘Sniper on the tower,’ warned Ivan, and promptly took out the target with a headshot. The body dropped from its position, hitting the floor like all the bones had left its body. ‘See ya, sucker!’
‘God rest his soul,’ said Oleg quietly, but it was enough to draw a glance from his grandson. ‘So, what happens to the corpse now?’ he asked.
‘Nothing,’ said Ivan with a shrug.
Oleg looked back at the screen. Smoke drifted across the battleground, which shook as a nearby airstrike hit a building. With a sigh, he set the controller down beside him.
‘There is a lot of death in this game,’ he said. ‘With no respect shown to the fallen.’
Finding himself without a partner, Ivan mashed the controller buttons in a bid to stay alive.
‘What do you suggest?’ he asked. ‘We bury him while the bullets fly?’
‘No,’ said Oleg. ‘We should eat him.’
For the second time since his grandfather joined him, Ivan paused the game.
‘This isn’t real,’ said the boy. ‘It’s fun.’
Oleg clasped his hands in his lap. He stared at his thumbs, turning them over and over.
‘No death should be taken in vain, as we all hope you’ve learned after what happened at the weekend.’ He watched the boy press his lips together, nodding at the same time. Then he waited for Ivan to meet his eyes once more. ‘Ivan, if a life must come to an end then the body should be treated with ceremony. Your father wasn’t unaffected by the disposal of the model. He was forced to take that action for the sake of his son, but it moved him deeply.’
‘I know,’ said Ivan quietly. ‘He hugged us all a lot the next day.’
‘It’s a shame we weren’t able to consume her,’ said Oleg, ‘In the early history of mankind, a friend or a foe would be feasted upon as a mark of respect. Long before burial and cremation became popular, that’s just how things were done.’ He stopped there for a moment, seemingly lost in thought. ‘Of course, I had no choice but to revive the ritual as a means of survival, but after the Siege it grew to mean so much more to me, and to my family.’
‘How was it?’ asked Ivan, who had been listening closely. ‘The first time?’
Oleg chuckled to himself.
‘Awful, tortuous, unbearable,’ he said. ‘Your grandmother and I were close to death ourselves. We were gaunt, weak, beyond hope, and struggling to stay alive in a city with more bodies than the living. All the food had gone. There was nothing left we could eat. Nothing but …’ He paused to reflect for a moment. ‘Slowly, it became something that many people considered, but only a few put into practice. Some say it was mostly young mothers desperate to feed their children, but I didn’t see that for myself. We had thought about it for some time, of course, but always dismissed it as going beyond the limits of humanity.’
‘So what changed your mind?’
‘A neighbour,’ said Oleg. ‘She lived in the apartment next to ours, and had seen every member of her family perish. She was a sweet, quiet soul who had endured just so much misery. The trauma of our existence left her vulnerable. Your grandmother helped her wherever possible, and once even shared a dead pigeon with her that we’d managed to find in the rubble. But, Ivan, her heart was broken. She had no will to survive. Weak beyond reason, it was a small mercy that her heart gave out in her sleep. We couldn’t just leave her corpse in the apartment. We had to do something, but at the same time we were desperate people. That morning we had forced down pebbles just to give our bellies something, so you can understand what led us to look at her body in a different light.’
‘Was it your idea?’ asked Ivan, who had been listening intently. ‘Or Granny’s?’
‘I could read her mind and she could read mine,’ answered Oleg, nodding at the same time. ‘It was as if an inner voice had awoken in us both, and it spoke so loud and clear that neither of us could ignore it. So, we made a joint decision. Your grandmother folded back the bed sheet and with my penknife we peeled off the thinnest layer of flesh from her thigh. Oh, Ivan, the moment moved me to tears. What I was doing felt so wrong and yet so necessary. The slither wasn’t enough to sustain either of us. We halved it, and on the count of three each placed what we had in our mouths. Several times we spat it out, and both of us wretched before we finally succeeded in washing it down our gullets with rain water. But once it settled in the stomach we soon went back for more. We were starving to death, Ivan, you have to remember that, so to be nourished at that time was to feel as if God Himself had fed us. I’ll never forget it. We were rejuvenated and elated, as if born again! My boy, there is something so special about human flesh that drives a man to devour until nothing more is left. Ever since, I look forward to that feeling each time we sit to feast.’
Ivan toyed with his controller.
‘When Granny died,’ he said finally. ‘Did you?’
‘A little.’ Oleg nodded. ‘Your father was only small at the time, but we both did so in her honour.’
‘I was too young to remember my first mouthful,’ he said. ‘But I wouldn’t give it up now.’
‘Just be careful,’ warned his grandfather. ‘One careless kill could mark the end of a family tradition that I hope outlives us all.’
Of all the suppers her mother could’ve cooked, on what was Sasha’s first meat-free day, it had to be pork chops. She could smell them from her bedroom, even with the door shut. Compared to human flesh, this was the next best thing. Her father often reminded them that pigs share ninety-eight per cent of the human genetic make-up, which explained why her mouth was so moist. Still, with exams looming, Sasha had revision to get through. It was a struggle, however. Just thinking about those prime cuts crackling and popping in the griddle pan wasn’t only a distraction. In view of her oath, it was torture.
‘When will we be eating?’ she asked, having drifted downstairs to the kitchen.
Angelica was at the hob, with little Katya in the high chair at a safe distance from the spitting oil. The toddler looked delighted to see her big sister, and gurgled when Sasha crossed to pet her.
‘Any time soon,’ said Angelica, and flipped a chop with her spatula. ‘The mash is ready. So, as soon as the peas come to the boil.’
‘Do we have any nuts?’ asked Sasha. ‘Cashews, perhaps. Or almonds?’
Her mother turned, spatula in hand, as if to check she had heard her correctly. ‘Nuts. You want nuts to go with the chops?’
‘Actually, I was thinking instead of the chops.’
Angelica turned the gas ring down by a notch.
‘What’s wrong? Are you ill? Something you’ve eaten?’
‘I’m fine,’ Sasha insisted, and focused her attention on playing with Katya’s curly locks. ‘I just thought nuts would be good.’
Angelica looked at how uncomfortable her daughter appeared and knew that there was more to this.
‘Sasha,’ she said calmly. ‘Your father isn’t home from work yet. You can talk to me. If there’s anything on your mind, I’m here.’
‘I know that.’ Sasha offered her finger for Katya to chew on. At the same time, the pan of peas on the hob came to the boil. The water frothed over the sides, which drew Angelica’s attention for a moment. Once she’d dealt with it, she turned back to Sasha, who knew she’d have to offer her something.
‘It’s just for a short time,’ she said to begin. ‘Mum, don’t freak out on me or anything, but I’m skipping meat for a little while. It’s for Jack. He asked me. We made a pact.’
Sasha held her mother’s gaze for what felt like an age. It only came to an end when Katya bit down on her finger a little too hard.
‘Be careful,’ Angelica said to her youngest daughter, but kept her eyes pinned on Sasha. ‘Your father thinks she’s ready, you know? The last of her teeth are coming through. We’re thinking soon it’ll be time for a welcoming feast.’
Sasha knew full well what she meant. All of a sudden she felt like some kind of traitor to the family.
‘This isn’t a permanent arrangement. By the time Katya’s big day comes, everything will be back to normal.’
‘So, how long do you plan to keep this up?’ asked Angelica, returning her attention to the pan.
‘Four weeks.’
“Four what?’ Sasha’s answer brought her mother round full circle. ‘You’re seriously thinking of no meat for a month?’
‘It isn’t like a lifetime. Not really.’
‘But why? What does this prove? And what could it do to you? You’ll turn anaemic or something. It can’t be good for your concentration at school.’
‘My concentration is fine. School is fine. This isn’t me going off the rails or anything.’
‘But it isn’t making me comfortable,’ replied Angelica all the same. ‘What ideas has this boy put into your head?’
Sasha examined her finger, which was still stinging. Kat hadn’t drawn blood, but she could see her teeth marks.
‘This isn’t really about Jack,’ she said. ‘As soon as he laid down the challenge, I began to think it was something I’d genuinely like to try. Just to see if I can, and what difference it would make. Seriously, going veggie for a while isn’t a big deal.’
‘It will be to your father.’
‘Does he have to know?’
Angelica returned to the business of preparing supper. She reached for the plates and began to lay them out.
‘He just called to say he was on his way home from the tube station,’ she said. ‘By the sound of it, he’s had a difficult day.’
‘All the more reason not to say anything,’ said Sasha, watching her mother as she began to lay out a scoop of mashed potato on each plate, followed by a sprinkling of peas. ‘Please, Mum. If he finds out now he’ll just put a stop to it without giving me a chance to find out what it’s like to do something, well … different.’
Angelica didn’t reply. Instead, reaching for the spatula, she transferred a pork chop to every plate but one. Sasha smiled in relief, and skipped to the cupboard when Angelica told her that’s where she’d find some nuts.
‘But you’ll have to eat quickly,’ she said. ‘I’m sure he won’t ask questions if he knows you’re using the time to revise.’
Sasha was already seated at the table when Angelica placed the plate in front of her. She looked up to thank her mother, but Angelica’s taut mouth told Sasha enough had been said. Instead, she picked up her knife and fork and began to eat. Without the chop, it just tasted like something was missing, but that was not the point. She could do this, she told herself. However things worked out with Jack, he’d introduced her to something she felt compelled to try. Sasha ate without speaking, keen to be finished before her dad returned home. She fully expected to hear the front door open at any time, so when the bell rang it came as a surprise.
‘He’s probably forgotten his keys,’ muttered Angelica, and made her way to the hall.
It left Sasha to pick up the last of the nuts and shovel them into the pockets of her cheeks as fast as possible. She heard the door open, and crunched on them hurriedly. By the time her mother returned, there was nothing on her plate that would spark a stand-up row. Then again, the figure that followed her into the kitchen wasn’t her father.
‘From the gas,’ said the man with the ID necklace when Sasha looked up from the table. ‘Sorry to disturb. I’ll just take a reading and be gone.’
Vernon English wasn’t exactly a master of disguise. He had a whole bundle of fake identities to call upon. It’s just he looked the same whichever one he chose to wear: a little out of shape, with tangled, receding hair that was just begging to be hidden under his beloved cap. Arriving in the kitchen behind Angelica Savage, he tried hard not to show too much of an interest in his surroundings. The girl looked surprised to see him, but not suspicious, while the toddler in the high chair shrieked in delight and threw out her arms.
‘Hello, little one!’ Vernon reached out to ruffle her hair, only to remind himself that this might be deemed inappropriate behaviour for a representative of the power company. The last thing he needed was an official complaint, mostly because the ID around his neck was totally fake. ‘Cute kid,’ he said instead, and turned to find Angelica watching him with her arms folded.
‘The meter is over there,’ she said, and gestured at a cupboard in a recess beside the French windows.
‘As good as done,’ said Vernon, and got on with the task at hand.
Some months earlier, the private investigator had picked up a job lot of radio bugs on eBay. This was the first time he’d put one into use. Although highly illegal for the task he had in mind, in his opinion it was a fast track to nailing Titus Savage. Not just for his business dealings but his possible involvement in the death of Lulabelle Hart. The device was the size of a watch battery, and stuck snugly onto the side of the gas meter as he jotted down the numbers on a clipboard he’d brought with him. ‘That’s me done,’ he said, rising to his feet. He turned to address Angelica once more, only to find the man of the house at the kitchen door.
‘Something smells good,’ said Titus, as Vernon suddenly pretended to look busy with his clipboard. ‘What’s for supper?’
‘It’s served and ready to go,’ said Angelica, before raising one eyebrow at the man in the corner.
‘Oh, don’t let me stop you.’ Vernon kept his head down on making his way to the door. Sometimes making face to face contact with his target was unavoidable, but it couldn’t happen more than once. Not without attracting suspicion. ‘Bon appetit!’
As he left, both Titus and Angelica exchanged a puzzled look.
‘Since when did the gas man ever sound so cheery?’ he asked.
‘The guy seemed a bit too interested in little Kat,’ said Sasha, who by now had cleared her plate. ‘Most probably a paedo.’
Titus turned to peer into the hall. By then, the man was gone. He faced back at the three girls in his life, and dismissed their concerns with a chuckle.
‘So the gas man is a nice guy. That doesn’t make him dodgy. Though I have to say it seems like only yesterday that I paid the last bill.’ Titus sighed, and then smiled fondly at the little one straining to escape from her high chair so that she could reach her father. Carefully, he lifted her out and held her up. ‘And how are you, my little beauty!’
‘Never better,’ said Angelica, and began to bring the plates across to the table. ‘She bit Sasha’s finger just now. Almost drew blood.’
‘Did she?’ Titus looked around, still holding the little girl aloft, and then brought her down for a cuddle. ‘Then, you know what this means?’
‘I do indeed,’ said Angelica.
‘Who would have thought?’ said Titus. ‘The last of my children is set to join us in the family way.’
‘It’s quite an achievement,’ Angelica agreed, as Sasha took her empty plate to the dishwasher. ‘Have you had enough to eat?’ she asked her.
‘I’m good thanks.’ Sasha headed for the door, and willed herself not to look at the plates on the table. No matter how she tried to sell it to herself, mash, peas and nuts just didn’t feel like a complete meal. ‘I’ll be in my room,’ she said, and glanced at her mother. ‘Got to revise this month.’
‘Can you tell Grandpa that I’ll blend his supper as soon as it’s cooled. And send Ivan down now. You know how those two like their pork. There’s even extra in the pan.’
Sasha reminded herself not to react. Despite the dig from her mother, there was no way that her dad could find out about her pledge. Heading out of the kitchen, she caught his eye, and saw only pride in his expression.
‘I admire your commitment,’ said Titus, and jiggled his youngest daughter in his arms. ‘It’s a shame you won’t be eating with us, but all the more reason to look forward to a feast. One that none of us will ever forget!’