Rosa and the Veil of Gold (6 page)

“Not just a jeweller,” Vasily said, “but a valuations expert for an insurance company. I told him of my…find, and he graciously offered to come back here with me and tell me what it’s worth.”

“On the proviso that I get first refusal if he decides to sell it,” Yuri said, with a smile which wasn’t altogether pleasant.

Rosa winced. “Ah, the bear.”

“Yes, the bear, Rosa. Where is she? Yuri can look at her while you make coffee.”

Rosa carefully set out three cups and put her back to the coffee machine. “Vasily, I’m sorry. The bear isn’t here.”

A twitch of annoyance crossed his brow, and Rosa realised that for the first time she would be on the receiving end of one of his infamous tirades. She braced herself.

“Not here, Roshka. Where else could she be?”

“My friend came up from Novgorod. He says it’s definitely gold, but couldn’t date the object himself. So I let him take it—”

“You let him take it!” Vasily roared. Then, remembering himself, he turned to Yuri with his charming smile. “I’m sorry, Yuri. I’ve brought you out of your way needlessly.”

Yuri stood and handed Vasily a business card. “I understand. When the bear returns, I’m happy to look at it.”

Vasily showed Yuri out, insisting on giving him money for a taxi, full of polite apologies and expansive laughs about silly girls not knowing the value of priceless objects. Rosa gritted her teeth and finished making coffee, then hovered in the doorway to the kitchen to await the onslaught. The television still muttered softly in the background.

The door closed. Vasily turned, his black eyebrows drawn down hard.

“I’m sorry, Uncle Vasily—” she started.

“Foolish girl. You should never have let the bear out of your sight.”

“I trust Daniel, Uncle Vasily. I know how important that bear is to you.”

“Do you really? Yuri spoke in terms of hundreds of thousands of American dollars. He also spoke of selling it quickly. It would be out of the country before the government takes it from me and puts it in a museum.”

Rosa felt her blood chill. She was a foolish girl. Vasily was right. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. But I know that Daniel will keep it safe.”

“Where is the bear? Be honest with me now.”

“She’s on her way to Arkhangelsk.”

“Arkhangelsk!” he shrieked. “What does he intend to do with her there? Put her on a boat to England?”

“No, there’s a professor at the university—”

“Universities are worse than museums!”

“Uncle Vasily, I—”

He took a step towards her and drilled his index finger into her shoulder. It was so startlingly different to his usual delicate touch that she gasped.

“You will go to Arkhangelsk and you will bring it back before any professor can look at it.”

“Yes, yes, of course,” she muttered nervously.

He softened. “Rosa, don’t be afraid of me.”

“I’m not afraid of you hurting me, Uncle Vasily. I’m afraid of you hating me.” Her eyes brimmed and she had to swallow back tears.

Instantly, he had grabbed her in a bear hug. He squeezed her once, hard, then set her free. His voice regained its hard edge. “Go to bed, Rosa. We’ll speak again in the morning.”

“Should I ring an airline? Book a flight for tomorrow?”

“I’ll take care of it. I know someone. You go to bed.”

Rosa knew that he wanted her out of sight, afraid of his own anger. She dutifully turned and went to her room.

Arkhangelsk. Even if she flew tomorrow afternoon, she would probably still beat Daniel there. He and Em would have arrived in Vologda by now. She wished she had thought to ask where they were staying in Vologda; it would save a lot of trouble if she could simply phone them. Em would be upset. After all the bother of driving to Arkhangelsk, not getting her story would
certainly irritate her, but it couldn’t be helped. Vasily’s will was inexorable.

Rosa turned off her light and climbed into bed. Her curtain was still open and she could see a bright quarter of the moon in the corner of the window. She watched it for a long time before she closed her eyes.

What about Daniel? She had promised to tell him the truth. He would expect to hear it in Arkhangelsk. Could she really go through with it? She supposed she must, if she could be certain he would keep his promise never to contact her again afterwards. She reminded herself to take the silver bracelet and the blue scarf he had given her, to return them. Gifts were like knots between people, which had to be unpicked. Her stomach ached and she flipped over and pressed a pillow against her belly and cried because she loved Vasily and had let him down, because she loved Daniel and had let him down.

But mostly just because she was selfish and hated that life was so unfair.

Rosa ventured out of her room warily the next morning, and found Vasily dressed in his singlet and trousers, smelling of talcum powder and with his hair freshly greased. He whistled as he fried eggs in the kitchen.

“Good morning,” she said.

He turned and his eyes were soft. “Ah, my girl. Have you forgiven me?”

“Have you forgiven me?”

“Dear little Roshka. Of course.”

“Have you booked my flight to Arkhangelsk?”

“Yes, this afternoon at three. I’ll take you out to the airport myself as I have business in the area.” He indicated the pan. “Eggs?”

She shrugged and perched on a stool at the bench. “Yes, but not too greasy.”

He served her breakfast—fried eggs, too greasy, with thin pancakes—and sat opposite her.

“Uncle Vasily, I think I need to explain something to you,” she said, not touching her food.

“What is it?”

“I didn’t give your priceless bear away on a whim.”

He put down his knife and fork and swallowed a mouthful. “Then why, Rosa?”

She took a deep breath, dreading invoking the spirit of her dead mother. “Uncle Vasily, I have the second sight, like Mama.”

His eyebrows twitched. “You do?”

“Mama told me you don’t believe in it.”

“It was a long time since Ellena and I spoke of it. As I grow older, I’m more able to believe strange things.”

“The bear…she gave off a shock of energy. To me. To Daniel.” Rosa wisely didn’t mention Em. “But not to anyone else. Not to you, or Larissa, or anyone who touched her at the bathhouse. Do you see?”

“I think so.”

“I let her go with Daniel because I thought she wanted to go.”

Vasily drew his lips into a pensive line and was lost in thought for an age. Rosa ate a few mouthfuls dispiritedly. Finally, Vasily said, “Rosa, I didn’t know you had the sight.”

“I don’t tell anyone.”

He stood up, pushing his breakfast aside. His mood was urgent, decisive. “Come with me. There’s something I need to show you.”

Puzzled, Rosa followed Vasily to his bedroom. He knelt in front of his oak dresser and pulled out the bottom drawer. There was a smell of old wood and sandalwood drawer liners.

“Come, sit by me,” he said, patting the floor next to him.

Rosa joined him, shrugging out of her dressing gown; Vasily always had the heating in his bedroom on high. The pale carpet was soft beneath her knees.

From the drawer, he pulled out a flat wooden box which he opened.

“Do you see this, Rosa?” he said, withdrawing a dirty silver bracelet which rattled and tinkled with charms.

“What is it?” Rosa said, extending her hand.

He dropped it onto her palm. “It was your mother’s. She gave it to me when they left Russia.” He chuckled. “She said Petr had insisted; that in the West she would have no need of good luck.”

Rosa felt the tickle of magic from the bracelet. “These charms…”

He pulled the bracelet into a straight line on her palm. “Rosa, it’s an amulet. Ellena started it when she was fourteen. She made a lot of these herself; others she found.” He pointed them out one by one. “Here, a ruby she engraved with an ‘E’ for Ellena. A silver knife, a silver key and a silver swallow. I don’t know what any of these mean. Maybe you could look them up in a book. Here, these are two of your baby teeth. Do you remember? When you were four, you fell off your bicycle and knocked them out.”

“I remember,” Rosa said softly, reverent in the presence of such a wonderful, magical object.

“These little bells she stole from a gypsy. The knots are just silver thread, but she told me these were the most important. Each of them tied her to someone she loved: so there is one for you, one for Petr, one for me. This miniature mirror is from her childhood dollhouse. This one…” He flipped open the last charm, a tiny locket. A piece of dried grass was glued inside. “She told me that this is grass she found growing through the eyehole of a horse’s skull. It was supposed to be a very potent charm.”

“Mama knew about enchantments.”

“She did. I once laughed at her for it.”

“She hardly mentioned magic. Papa didn’t like it. When I was thirteen, she taught me a few protection spells and told me to be wary of my power.” Rosa dangled the bracelet in front of her and it spun slowly. “Apart from that, she honoured Papa’s wishes and didn’t speak of it.” Until close to the end, when information had gushed out of her, careless and jumbled. Rosa offered the bracelet back to Vasily. “Thank you for showing me this.”

“No, Rosa. You keep it. I have had a lifetime of good luck.”

“Are you certain?” Rosa said, her fingers already closing possessively around the charms.

“Of course I am certain. Wear it, and have good fortune always.”

“Are you sure we haven’t come too far?” Em said.

Daniel looked up from the local map of Vologda he had taken from the hotel foyer that morning. “Absolutely sure.” They were searching for the service agent of their rental company, and had driven a long way north of the river into an industrial area which
looked as though it had been uninhabited since the collapse of the Soviet Union. “It should be down that road.”

“Road?” Em said. “That’s a dirt track.”

“Then it should be down that dirt track.” He was growing more comfortable around Em. Her odd habits—the quiet detachment, the momentary irritations, the aloof coolness—were becoming familiar to him, and he no longer inferred from them any special dislike. She treated everyone the same way.

Em turned the car and Daniel tensed, always alert in case the steering failed. They bumped down the dirt road and came to a dilapidated garage with a bent metal sign out front.

“That’s it.”

Em laughed. “God help us.” She pulled into the dirt parking area. “Now, do you have the spare car key I gave you back in Novgorod?”

“Yep,” said Daniel, reaching into the inside pocket of his jacket. Empty. An embarrassed realisation. “Oh, no. I think I gave it to Rosa.”

“You gave it to Rosa?”

“My room key back at the guesthouse too. I put them all on the same keyring, and I was so…distracted when I gave Rosa her keys…”

“It’s okay,” Em said. “We’ll sweet-talk him. That is, if he has another car for us.” They left the car and went to the garage in search of the owner.

A short man with big ears, a dirty beret and greasy overalls emerged from the front door as they approached. “Hello,” he called in heavily accented English. “You tourists? Phone me yesterday?”

Daniel switched into Russian and said, “The car’s steering is soft. We’d prefer a replacement car if one is available.”

“I have no replacement cars,” he said, gesturing around him. “You see. But I will fix this one.”

“We don’t have a lot of time,” Daniel said. “Could you look at it straightaway?”

“I’ll look at it soon. Should be ready around four.”

Em’s ears pricked up at the word “four” and she grabbed Daniel’s shirt. “Four this afternoon,” she spat. “Can’t he do it sooner?”

The mechanic shook his head and returned to English. “Busy, busy, busy.”

Daniel peered into the dark garage and could see only one other car up on the ramp. “Are you sure?”

The mechanic stroked his chin and his face took on a petulant expression. “Maybe if you don’t believe me, it will take until five.”

Daniel shrugged. “Em, we have no choice.”

She sighed. “Okay. But ask him if he’ll drive us back to the city centre.”

The mechanic enthusiastically agreed to drive them, and it was only when he was dropping them off on Prospekt Pobedy that Daniel realised he expected payment. Em pressed a note into his hand, retrieved the bag with the golden bear in it, and he drove off. The bustling market was alive behind them, redolent with the smell of food, spices and flowers.

“So shall we go back to the hotel?” Daniel asked.

“We’ve already checked out,” Em said.

“But we’re checking back in, aren’t we? I mean, we’ll have to stay an extra night.”

“Why?”

“Isn’t it an eleven- or twelve-hour drive to Arkhangelsk?”

“I don’t mind driving at night.”

“Is it safe?”

“It’s probably safer. No traffic. Daniel, we just don’t have that much time. Professor Gergiev is expecting us tomorrow morning at eight. If we have to reschedule, it might be days before he’s available again. We have to leave for Arkhangelsk today, even if it means driving until four in the morning. Aaron and the others will be there too.” A trio of teenagers jostled past them, wearing clothes printed with English slogans which they probably didn’t understand. She indicated a dreary coffee house across the road, wilting flowers in its window-boxes. “For now, we need somewhere to sit and pass the next seven hours.”

Daniel groaned. “Shouldn’t we do some sightseeing or something?”

“I find work always passes the time, and we need to get together a script for tomorrow. I was going to do it tonight, but I’ll be driving.” She gave him a meaningful lift of the eyebrows. “Remember, it’s your job too.”

The time passed in working on the script, in a walk around the city centre, in a long lunch, in repeatedly and unsuccessfully trying to phone Aaron to let him know they were running late, and in sitting for a while on a park bench. There was no denying that it was a long and boring wait, and the stress of boredom was made worse for Daniel by his growing feeling of dread about travelling so many hours late at night. What if Em fell asleep at the wheel? Or a late-night long-distance truck driver ploughed into them? Or a wild nocturnal animal crossed their path and caused an accident?