Faithless (19 page)

             
"Maybe better than the other side though," she mused, "I mean - a free world led by Richard Nixon?"  She finished her vodka.

             
John said, "There's a lot that's wrong here. But I remain a Socialist."

             
"Let's go to your place. I have an ache for you."

             
John laughed. "Lust trumps politics. As usual."

They arranged for a taxi and stood at the front door of the Intourist Hotel observed by around six doormen. John left a message for his mother that he would come back to
the hotel to fetch her and William at around about 10 o'clock the next morning.

When they arrived back at his student flat, Karen gestured at the brutal Soviet architecture. "It's very ugly," she said, "and it's just like all the others."

              "For miles around," said John, but he felt a defensive about his temporary home. "It's not too bad. We're up on the fifth. The elevator does work and it doesn't smell of piss like British tower blocks."

             
"No graffiti either," said John as they got in the lift.

             
"No, they don't dare. They'd get shot," said Karen.

              "That is unfortunately true. Or at least beaten up by policemen."

             
"Though that happens to Hibs fans back home too," added Karen.

             
When they arrived in their kitchen. Joe was sitting there at the table talking to Yelena. They had a bottle of vodka open. Yelena flushed red. John stopped in his tracks and Karen noticed. Joe said, "Hi, John. And this vision of beauty must be Karen."  Karen smiled.

             
"Joe the Canadian? John writes about you," she said,

             
"Good things?"

             
"Generally," she laughed.

             
"Karen?" said Yelena.

             
John coughed. "This is Yelena, our student mentor."

             
Karen shot a questioning look at John. John shrugged.

             
"You know me?" asked Karen.

             
"John has spoken of you."

             
"Ah. He hasn't mentioned you to me."

             
Yelena blushed deeper.

             
"I suppose you spend a lot of time together over the cold Russian nights?" said Karen.

             
"We have excursions and events," said Yelena.

             
"Excursions and events? Sounds fun."

             
"You are very pretty," said Yelena.

             
Karen looked at her, taking her in. "So are you."

             
"Thank you. John is a wonderful man. You are very lucky."

             
"You're telling me."

             
"Sorry?"

             
"It's just a phrase," said John. "It  means 'you're right'. Come on Karen, let's retire."

             
"Ah, I did not know this," said Yelena.

             
"Retire?" said Joe, "For the night?"

             
John nodded. "Yeah, why not?" He was embarrassed.

             
Karen pushed John's beckoning hand away. "No," she said, "I think I'd  like to stay and talk to this lovely woman. Yelena was it?"

             
Yelena nodded. "Yes Karen."

             
Karen sat down. John sighed and continued to stand. "Come on," he said.

             
"We're no in a rush, are we John? The night is yet young," said Karen.

             
Joe caught John's eye and gave him a look of commiseration.

             
"Can I have some vodka?" asked Karen.

             
"Sure," said Joe pouring the clear liquid into the chipped glass. Karen knocked it back with a gulp. She put the glass down and gestured for Joe to fill it. Then she leaned forward towards Yelena, resting both elbows on the table. 

             
"So Yelena, where are you from?" asked Karen.

             
Yelena nodded. "From Moscow. Actually from Lyubertsy. And you?"

             
"From Edinburgh. Actually from Bonnyrigg."

             
Yelena nodded. The men looked at each other. Karen's smile twisted. "Tell me Yelena, have you been trying to shag my boyfriend? Or maybe you did already?"

             
Yelena looked horrified.

             
John said, "For Christ's sake Karen. Of course not."

             
Karen looked at Joe. "I'll believe you Joe. You seem like a nice guy. But I've seen the way she looks at my John. Tell me, did she let him take off her party dress?"

             
Joe shook his head. "No. Really no."

             
"Good," said Karen. "Because otherwise we wouldn't be able to be friends Yelena, you get me?"

             
Yelena looked at her with narrowed eyes.  She stood up. "You insult me. I will leave in the interests of peace."

             
"Yeah you go in the interests of world peace."

             
Yelena pointedly looked away from Karen. "Good night Joe. I will see you soon." Then she looked at John. "I am sorry your Karen is such a terrible woman. She does not deserve you."

             
Then she left, closing the door behind her.

             
"Well, that was awkward," said Joe.                           

             
Karen mimicked a Russian accent. "'She does not deserve you'. And that hoity-toity Communist bitch does?"

             
John looked at Karen. "How much vodka have you had?"

             
"Not nearly enough, but I want something else now," smiled Karen. She stood up. "Anyway, go me! I  scared off the opposition. Let's go to bed."

That night they made love - frantic from being apart from each other's bodies for so long. Then they slept briefly before waking t
o make love again. The grey Moscow dawn had broken outside on the Lenin Hills when John was wakened finally by an urgent knocking on his door.  He stepped out of bed, pulled on his underpants and went to the door, opening it a crack. It was Joe. He looked serious.

             
"What's up? It's very early."

             
"Sorry, John there's been a phone call. I don't know how but they knew you were contactable through Yelena."

             
"What? What are you talking about? It's six a.m?"

             
Karen looked up sleepily from the bed behind him to see what was going on.

             
"Your dad. He's had a heart attack."

"What? William? Where?"
             

"In the night at the Intourist Hotel. I don't know how but I think your mother must have said you were a student and somehow they've tracked you down through Yelena. She came and told me."

              "Yelena's been here?"

             
"Yes, but she's left now."

             
"Why did she tell you – rather than waking me herself?"

             
"I think she didn't want to knock on your door. You know after last night."

             
John shook his head. "OK, where is he?"

             
Joe looked pained. "That's the problem. An ambulance was called but your mother didn't know where they took him. They wouldn't let her go in the ambulance and she didn't understand what they were saying."

             
"Jesus Christ. Fucking Soviets. They have to fuck everything up. What time's the first train on the Metro?"

             
"Usually between 5:30 and 6:00."

             
"Ok let me get dressed."

             
"Sorry man."

             
"Don't worry Joe. Thanks."

John hurriedly pulled on his t-shirt and jeans and a pullover and anorak. Karen asked what was happening. He told her.

             
"Ok, I'll get dressed quickly."

             
"No, you don't have to come."

             
"I'm not staying here. I'll come with you."

             
He leaned over and kissed her. "Thanks."

They hurried out into the grey morning.  Just outside the front door of their block, John and Karen saw a black Moscovich car with its engine running as if waiting. John hardly
looked at it and made his way, head down towards the station. Then Karen said, "The man in the car is waving to you. And your little friend Yelena is in the passenger seat."

             
"What?" John turned round suspiciously and stared at the car. Bebur Gelashvili got out. "John," he shouted. "Let me give you a lift. It will be faster than the Metro."

             
John shook his head. "No thanks, but thanks." He walked on a few paces then he paused. "How do you know?" he called back.

             
Bebur said, "Yelena told me. They phoned her from the hotel. She rang me. I believe you don't know many people with cars in Moscow. I thought I could help."

             
"You're right I don't know many people with cars here. Listen it's not your problem."

             
"Please let me help?"

             
Karen whispered. "It makes sense. Come on let's get in the car."

             
Reluctantly John made his way to the car. As if he was accepting a favour he may later regret. He opened the back door and he and Karen got in, sliding across the old fashioned leather seats.

             
"I'm really sorry, John," said Yelena.

             
"Thanks," he said. Karen looked at her but didn't say anything. Bebur put the car in gear and headed off at speed.

             
"Your mother didn't know which hospital they've taken him to, but if I ask the hotel staff they may well know," said Yelena.

             
"Did she say how bad he was?"

             
Yelena shook her head. "No, but I don't think he was conscious."

             
Karen muttered, "Russians aren't subtle I see. What about breaking things gently?"

             
John squeezed Karen's thigh and whispered. "She means well."

             
Karen nodded. "Sure. Sorry." She hugged him.

             
They broke the speed limit tearing through the almost deserted Moscow streets. A Militia Car saw them. It put its lights on and sped after them. John looked round and through the back window he could see the Militia signalling for them to pull over. Bebur slammed on the brakes and stopped by the side of the street. He wound the window down and waited impatiently while the two Militia men took their time to get out of their car and wandered over gesturing for papers.

             
Bebur flashed an identity badge in his wallet. The Militia man stood back and saluted. Bebur said, "Thank you comrade. Now we are in a hurry so we will go."

             
The Militia man said, "Of course comrade, we will provide you with an escort. Where are you heading?"

             
"The Intourist Hotel."

             
"Very good." The militia men ran back to their car and put on their sirens and lights. They drove in front of Bebur's car and provided an unnecessary escort. The traffic split to both sides to allow them through and they sped through the streets to pull up in front of the main doors of the Intourist Hotel. Bebur dumped the car and jumped out. Doormen ran down and began clucking like angry chickens. Bebur's militia escort quietened them and they went back to their stations like shamed schoolboys. Bebur opened the door for John and Karen. Yelena came along behind. The militia men left them with another salute.

             
"Mrs Gilroy, ring her please for us," said Bebur.

             
The receptionist looked affronted. "And you are?" Again Bebur showed wallet and the receptionist's mien changed abruptly from angry dragon to fawning kitten. "Sorry, comrade. Yes, comrade, immediately."