The Relic (4 page)

Lepkin said gently, ‘You'll look after your mother and the little one. You and Viktor will be good boys and take care of them till I get back. You promise?'

They promised. Viktor blinked back tears. Ivan took them outside. He knew what happened to the political officers if they were captured. His colonel wouldn't surrender. He'd die fighting. He sat the boys down and told them tales of the wonders they would see in Moscow. When he was a lad, he'd queued all night and a whole day to see Lenin lying in his tomb in Red Square. He'd looked just like he was sleeping peacefully. The children began to settle.

Natalia and Lepkin made love that night. They held each other and talked bravely of the future.

‘I think I'm pregnant again,' she admitted. ‘I've missed twice; I didn't want to tell you because I was frightened you'd make me leave.'

He had laid his hand tenderly upon her stomach. ‘It'll be a boy this time,' he said. ‘You'll be safe. Ivan will get you to Moscow. We'll beat these swine back in to Germany, don't worry.'

She said, ‘If you're caught, they'll murder you, Gregor.'

‘They're murdering our people anyway,' he said. ‘And you know I have to fight. I'm Russian. I'm not fighting for Stalin. I'm fighting for Russia. Once we've cleared the city, we shall blow up the buildings and the rail heads and leave nothing for them. Nothing.'

‘Try not to get killed,' she whispered to him. ‘Try to come back to us.'

He kissed her. ‘I'll do my best,' he said. He got up and dressed in the dawn light. ‘Don't forget to take the box with you,' he said.

‘The box?' She sat up, bare-breasted with her hair hanging down over her shoulders.

‘The tin box,' he said. ‘That cross must never fall in to German hands. And my present to you, Natalia—my clock and the calendar. Wrap them up carefully. Above all, keep that box close to you. Hide it somewhere safe when you get to Moscow. Remember!'

‘I'll remember,' she said. ‘It's unlucky. I wish we could just smash it to pieces and bury it!'

Lepkin held the battered box in his hands. He had a strange look and it frightened her. ‘I think we'd be cursed,' he said.

The terrible separation was coming closer, minute by minute, as he finished dressing. Once more she held him, kissing him and weeping. Then he was gone; the car started up and she couldn't bring herself to go to the door or watch him from the window. Ivan was driving him in to the city. Then he'd return for her and the children. He was armed with a rifle and ammunition. She sat at the table in the kitchen and bowed her head. Then she heard the little girl begin to stir and whimper in her cot. She got up and went to her, soothing her and holding her close.

It was still early, but the sun was up. The boys were making bundles of their clothes for the journey. It kept them occupied. The baby was sitting on the floor in a pool of warm sunshine, playing with a wooden doll Ivan had made for her.

Natalia went into her room to dress. She brushed her long hair. She loved the house and garden, and the cat with the yellow eyes. The children were begging her to take the cat to Moscow. She couldn't bear to tell them that it wasn't possible. Cats wouldn't be allowed on a train. It would be all right, left behind. It would catch birds. It would live.

As if summoned by her thoughts, it strolled into the room and came to rub against her legs. She bent down and stroked the rough fur.

‘Silly thing,' she said. ‘Why are we all so fond of you?'

And then she heard the noise. It was loud. It throbbed and roared like an animal. Her chair fell over. The cat fled. She ran from her room to the kitchen and saw them through the window. A motorcycle with a sidecar. Painted grey, with the black and white German cross on the side. Soldiers, with bucket helmets and grey uniforms. They were stopped a few yards away. She didn't scream. She couldn't. Fear made her dumb. Her sons had come in to the kitchen. She heard one of them, Stefan—Viktor—say, ‘What's that Matiushka? What's that noise?'

Then she seized them, hissing at them to be quiet, silent. ‘Don't make a sound. In there, quick,' She thrust the baby in to the cupboard with them. ‘Don't let her cry, stay there.
Don't move.
'

She slammed the cupboard shut. As she stepped back, the first of the German soldiers walked in through the open door.

Chapter 1

‘I love this view,' her father said. ‘It's the best on the island.' He held out his hand to Lucy. ‘Come and sit by me. It's so peaceful up here.'

‘The garden is looking lovely,' she said.

He was a keen gardener, and the mild climate made Jersey a plantsman's paradise.

The sea stretched below them at the bottom of a cliff mantled in spring foliage and flowers, girdled by a thin line of yellow sand. Yuri Warren had bought the site twenty-five years ago and built the house. It'd been a minor heart attack that had prompted the move, but the signs had been ominous. He had a wife and two-year-old daughter. He had enough money to retire if he sold the business. Within five years, his wife had died of cancer and he and Lucy were alone. He had lived far longer than anyone expected and he was grateful. The pace of life was easy, the gentle climate suited him. He had brought up his daughter, tended his beloved garden and devoted himself to his life's work.

He had made it her cause as much as his. He had shared everything with her. From an early age he taught her to speak Russian. She looked like a child of his native Ukraine, with her Slavic bone structure and fair hair. He had bequeathed her everything but the piercing blue eyes. They were her Irish mother's legacy.

Lucy glanced anxiously at him. ‘I've been so worried about you,' she said. ‘But you are feeling better, aren't you?'

He thought, I've got to be brave. I've got to tell her. I've got to tell her everything. My time has run out. Hers has come. He reached for her hand and held it.

‘No, Lucy,' he said gently. ‘I'm afraid not. Listen to me, darling, and be calm. I have only a few weeks left. Maybe a few days. It could happen any time.' He heard her sob. ‘Don't do that,' he said. ‘You mustn't. I've had a very good life and much happiness. It's coming to an end, that's all.'

She stemmed her tears for his sake. With an effort she said, ‘How long have you known?'

‘Since the last test. I've been putting everything in order. I don't want you involved with lawyers. It's all clear cut now. There's only one thing left.'

‘What is it?' she asked him.

‘To tell you the secret I've been guarding since before you were born. And to show it to you. Help me in to the house.'

It wasn't the safe where he kept his papers and Eileen's jewellery. It was a trap door under his desk. When she moved the desk and took up the rug, it was almost impossible to see the join in the parquet floor.

‘Put your foot on the fourth square to the left, Lucy.'

She did so and the flap rose up on a hidden spring. She knelt down to look inside. It was a cavity hollowed out and lined with lead.

‘There's a box,' he said. ‘Bring it to me.'

It was plain wood with a ring handle and a simple catch. ‘What is it?' she asked him.

‘A great treasure,' Yuri answered. ‘But, before I show it to you, I want to tell you how it came to me. Put the box there, on my desk. When I've finished, we'll open it together.'

He waited for a moment. The past was dangerous for him. It made the failing heart beat faster. Keep calm, his doctor had insisted. Don't excite yourself. He had smiled and shrugged off the advice. For what purpose? To eke out a few more days? ‘Some of it you know already,' he told Lucy. ‘How I was taken for forced labour in Germany. How my parents were shot. How Major Hope got me to England after the war. You know all that. But I never told you about Boris.

‘Boris was in the camp at Spittal. There were ten thousand Ukrainians from the division that fought with the German army. The war was over and they were waiting to surrender to the British. There were women and children mixed up with them, kids like me who'd been caught up in the retreat and taken along. It was very hot. I remember men swimming in the dirty river and the women washing clothes along the bank.

‘I was hungry and lousy and lost. I'd been kicked and beaten till I was scared of my own shadow. Then Boris found me. I can still see him now.' He paused for breath. ‘He was a big fellow, built like a bull. Ugly, with a shaved head. He had a loud voice and a laugh you could hear in the next camp. I don't know what he saw in me, although he said afterwards I looked like his little brother who'd died. But he adopted me, Lucy. He scrubbed me clean and fed me, and kept me by him. “Don't you worry, kid,” he'd say. “You'll be all right. You stick with me and we'll get out of this shit.” He was coarse and people were frightened of him. I saw him hit a man with one blow and he fell as if he'd been pole-axed. Nobody bullied me with Boris around. I followed him like a little dog. I slept curled up by his feet at night.

‘He talked to me, telling me about what he'd done in the war. He'd been in the SS extermination squads, killing Jews, he said. He was proud of it. “I fought the bastard Bolsheviks,” he said. “They threw my family off their land and my mother and my little brother starved to death. I fought them and the filthy Jews that were the cause of all the trouble.” He had no shame about it. But I loved him, Lucy. Can you understand how I could feel like that for such a man?'

He didn't wait for her to answer. ‘The German general and his officers had deserted the camp. The place was full of rumours. The Reds were killing any Russian who'd worn a German uniform, even the poor devils who had been conscripted in to labour battalions to dig earth works.

‘The Ukrainians were waiting, not knowing what would happen to them. Boris had changed his uniform for an ordinary infantry soldier's. He said anyone wearing the SS uniform was handed over to the Reds immediately. I was terrified he'd be taken away. I used to cry and he always promised me, “I'm not going anywhere without you, kid. Now stop your snivelling.” And he'd give me a great bear hug that squeezed the breath out of me.'

Yuri was far away as he talked, reliving the trauma of those chaotic days. He could feel the heat of the sun on the trampled dusty earth and the smell of the camp was in his nostrils. ‘The British came and took our surrender. I remember the officers had a big dinner after the terms were agreed. Our commander, General Shandruk, was dressed up like a real swell. Many of them were old Tsarist officers, and some of them had been living in exile since 1919.

‘The British were friendly to us. They gave food and sweets to the children and there was quite a bit of fraternizing and drinking.

‘Boris didn't mix. I could feel he was uneasy, in spite of the way he talked. He kept in the background. We didn't know where we would be sent; one day it looked good, the next people were panicking because they heard we were going to be put on trains for Lenz. The Red Army was at Lenz. They were taking people back and shooting them in thousands. One night hundreds of Ukrainians and their families just slipped away and the British let them go. Then there was an announcement. The Ukrainians were going to be moved to a camp at Bellaria, outside Rimini. Beyond the reach of the Soviets. I'll never forget the cheering. People were dancing with joy, hugging each other, weeping with relief. Boris got very drunk that night. He was still drunk when a British officer and four men came in to arrest him the next morning. There was a separate list of SS criminals who were being entrained at St Veit and handed over to the Reds. Boris's name was on it.'

Lucy saw his lip tremble and a tear rolled down her father's cheek.

‘They took him by force. He fought and struggled and I was screaming at them to let him go, while the officer held me. I wanted to go with him. I wanted to die with him. He was all I had in the world.'

‘Daddy,' she said in a whisper. ‘Don't. Don't. You mustn't upset yourself.'

He didn't hear her. He said, ‘I begged the officer to let me say goodbye to him. I was crying and pleading in Russian; he called someone to translate. He spoke a bit of German. He said to me, “All right. You can say goodbye. Come with me.”

‘They were loading men on to a truck. The soldiers had guns trained on them. I saw Boris, and the officer gave me a push and said, “Go on. But be quick.”

‘Boris was handcuffed. There was a big bruise on his face. He couldn't embrace me, so I just clung to him round the middle. “Look after yourself, kid.” I can hear him now. His voice was thick as if he wanted to cry. “I've got a present for you. It's buried under my cot. It'll make you rich, Yuri. Hide it. Don't let anyone see it, or they'll take it from you. Promise me?”

I couldn't take it in properly. He seemed to realize that because he said it all again. “Under my cot. It's a treasure. Get it! Hide it!”

‘They were separating us, pulling me away. They dragged him to the truck and he shouted back to me, “Think of me, kid. And do what I told you!” They were all loaded on to the truck and driven away.

‘I went to Boris's tent. It was empty. There was his camp bed, which I'd slept beside, on the floor, to be near him. And I dug underneath and found what he'd given me. Now you can open the box, Lucy.'

She held it in both hands. The red stones and the delicate gold flashed in the bright Jersey sunshine. In the garden outside she heard the buzz of a lawnmower.

‘The holiest Relic in Russia,' he said. ‘It's been revered by Ukrainians for a thousand years. It's in our blood. We've been so close, Lucy. I've shared my dreams with you because one day I wanted to share this with you, too. I had it planned, and then I had this last attack. Russia is in turmoil. It's the time for us to strike. I won't live to do it, so you must take my place.'