The Wolves of Leninsky Prospekt

by Sarah Armstrong

  ‘He’s a journalist?’

  ‘Yes, freelance, but works with Reuters a lot. They got the visa sorted.’

  ‘But he doesn’t live at the university?’

  ‘No, I can’t even let him in for a cup of tea. He has an apartment I can go to, but he’s barely been around so I’m trying to occupy myself. Have you got a good map?’

  ‘No, they’re all rubbish. You should make your own and sell it. You could make a fortune before they arrest you.’

  Leila nodded. ‘That’s an idea. What brings you to Moscow, Martha?’

  ‘Dogs,’ I said. ‘Big dogs.’

  ‘You have a thing about big dogs?’

  ‘I like to keep it quiet generally, but you caught me.’

  She patted my leg. ‘You know, the way to make people not interested in you is to give a pretty boring answer, rather than a funny but clearly evasive one?’

  I crossed my legs. ‘When you’ve been here a while, you might find you’re doing the same.’

  ‘I don’t have anything to hide.’

  I corrected her. ‘You don’t have anything to hide yet.’

  ‘Ha! Those KGB wolves. I can smell them. Can’t you?’

  She turned to face me fully. Wolves? I stared at her. This was like something out of Eva’s stories.

  ‘I can’t smell anything.’

  Leila turned away and smiled. I ran through our conversation, thinking whether I’d given anything away. Dogs, evasiveness. That was OK. I just had to not say anything else, and hope the dog got bored and went home.

  Leila wasn’t moving. The unfolded map fluttered in her hand and she raised her eyes to the sky.

  ‘He’s off chasing down a holy man, Seb. My boyfriend. In Siberia. Ha! Seb is in Sib. Have you been?’

  I shook my head.

  ‘No, I suppose you need a reason for a travel permit. And a country this big, it’s amazing how they keep track of everyone, but it seems to work. It’s so organised.’

  She looked at me, but I didn’t react.

  ‘I think so.’ She shrugged. ‘No one has too much or too little. Everything is just more fair. It’s just those damn wolves that put everyone off. Because ours are better at hiding what they’re doing.’

  The dog, bless her, stood up.

  ‘I guess you’re off,’ said Leila. She rustled in her pocket and pulled out a card. ‘Here’s my boyfriend’s details, if you’d like to meet up. I stay at his place more than I stay at mine. There’s no one to watch me there. He should be back at the start of August though.’

  I took the card. ‘Thanks. Nice to meet you.’

  She held out her hand again. I shook it quickly.

  I followed the dog, thankfully, in the direction we’d come. I didn’t turn around, although I really wanted to know if she was still sitting there. I thought she was interesting, but I didn’t trust her. The dog and I waited to cross. I took the card out. She’d written her name and an address on the back. That was odd. She must have done it before, but surely she wasn’t going to hand out her boyfriend’s address to everyone she gave a card to. I read it – 121 Leninsky Avenue, building number 1. My building. I heard her strange barking laugh, ha! No such thing as coincidences.

  Against my better judgement, I turned around. She waved. She’d been watching me, watching which way I went, waiting for me to turn around.

  I decided that I wouldn’t mention her to Kit after all. One dubious contact was enough. Unless our side was watching me too. I hoped I’d be able to read on his face whether there was something I should tell him.

  No, I should just tell him.

  When I got back, I cut some rye bread to go with the noodle soup. I was laying the table when I noticed a dark shape on the balcony. I opened the door to find it was a crow. It looked like it had a broken neck; it must have flown into the window. I shuddered. I was pretty sure that was unlucky.

  I was still looking for something to wrap it in when Kit got back.

  ‘Hold on, I have a Pravda.’ He fetched it from his briefcase, and unfolded the six pages to wrap up the crow. ‘Just put it in the bin for now, I’ll empty the bag later.’

  I took the floppy body and opened the bin lid. There was no bag.

  ‘Argh! Kit, why didn’t you put another bag in? I hate that.’

  He came out of the bathroom, drying his hands. ‘I didn’t empty it.’

  ‘But Natalya wasn’t here today, and there was a bag last night.’

  Kit gestured to the ceiling and the walls. ‘I wonder what happened then,’ he said.

  They would take our bin bag? I gestured to the bird. He nodded. They could have left that too. I put it in a new bin bag and washed my hands repeatedly. Then I heated the soup and brought it in.

  Kit had put Bach on. If I ever took a classical music quiz I would beat everyone now. He switched it up a little and sat down.

  I passed over my scoop of the day.

  ‘I was approached by a spy, I think. I saw her twice in different places. She’s pretending to be British but the accent is all strange.’

  Kit looked at the card. ‘Oh, she’s with the British Council. I met her when she was in the embassy today, trying to get a decent map.’ He pushed it back to me. ‘Why has she written our address on it?’

  ‘Oh, she said her boyfriend lives here.’ I drank some wine. ‘Don’t you think that’s odd?’

  ‘I suppose, but they do cluster foreigners together.’

  ‘I think I might have been a bit rude, in that case.’

  Kit laughed. ‘Better safe than sorry. She really didn’t strike me as someone who would take it personally.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Darling, I have something a bit awkward to ask you.’

  I sighed. ‘Yes, I went to see Eva again today.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Oh. I thought you meant that.’

  ‘Did you eat or drink anything? How are you feeling?’

  ‘I had some black tea with sugar. I’m fine. It was much better this time.’

  Kit sat and stared at me for a few moments. ‘Christ, Martha?’

  ‘Is it about Sandra?’

  ‘No. No, it’s about Alison. We are going to go back to Eva, though.’ He looked genuinely shocked. ‘It’s not funny, Martha.’

  ‘I know. Sorry. What about Alison?’

  Now he looked shifty. ‘If she was to ask whether I was out last night with Charlie, could you say yes?’

  Now I was shocked. ‘You want me to lie, for Charlie?’

  ‘I’m asking you to lie for me.’

  ‘What do you get out of it?’

  ‘He’s my colleague and my friend.’

  ‘He’s an arsehole. You’ve fallen for his smarm.’

  ‘I have asked you for a favour. It’s now up to you.’ Kit dipped his bread into the soup. ‘And Eva? What can you tell me about her?’

  ‘I’m so angry with you.’ I put my spoon down and crossed my arms. ‘You know she’s pregnant?’

  ‘It will blow over.’

  ‘Like the others?’

  ‘Not our business, Martha. We can’t go throwing stones.’

  ‘So, he knows about you, and is holding it over you?’

  ‘Martha. Darling. Let’s not fall out over this.’

  ‘All right, but you have to tell me something about your day. What’s Kissinger up to?’

  He stared at me, and had a spoonful of soup. I thought I’d offended him, but eventually he spoke.

  ‘Have you caught any news about Afghanistan recently?’

  ‘I can’t get the radio to work.’

  ‘There’s been a coup. The Afghan king was in Britain for eye treatment, and then went to Italy for a holiday. Wasn’t it lucky the coup happened when he was in Italy?’ He winked at me.

  The music was still playing, but I lowered my voice. ‘Was Kissinger pushing for it to happen when he was in Britain? Was he trying to involve us?’

  ‘I never said anything of the sort, darling. It’s only what you can read in the newsp
apers.’ He frowned. ‘Not Pravda, obviously.’

  We ate our soup and I thought about the million different impacts that Kit was having on the world, unravelling threads and exposing truths, and I was jealous. I wanted to know everything.

  Kit fetched a bottle of Georgian white wine, which was particularly vile, and Bach carried on in the background.

  20

  It had started raining the day before, and not stopped. On the way to the bread shop, I’d seen drivers get out of their cars to attach wipers. I wondered how many would forget to take them off again and lose them forever. It was one of those rainstorms where the drops feel much larger and wetter than normal. My coat still wasn’t quite dried out from then. I gave it another ineffectual shake and put it on.

  I was due at Alison’s for two, but it was a Friday. I’d promised myself to go to the gardens today, and I couldn’t let the rain stop me. I wanted to see Sandra again, but I needed, at least, to try to deliver the letter before I did.

  My Metro line went to Prospekt Mira, so I didn’t need to change. I walked over the wet chessboard floor, past the cream marble and gold mouldings, and carefully negotiated the steps up to the street. The dezhurnayas had kept it very clean. I held the letter inside my sleeve, having found out that nothing stayed dry in the pockets.

  Already drenched, I continued through the rain until I found the entrance for the Apothecary’s Garden. The tanker trucks which washed the dust from the streets every day in summer, were washing the streets in the thunderstorm. On the wall was some graffiti I’d recently learned to translate: ‘Ленин Жил Ленин живëт Ленин будет жить’. Lenin lived, Lenin lives, Lenin will always live.

  A large double gate was closed, but the single gate on the right was open. I paid and went into the garden. There were paths to the left and right and a pond in front of me. I’d grabbed a simple map, and saw that there were two ponds, one rectangular and one more natural in shape. Which one would Sandra have called the lake? I decided it would be the larger, natural one, the one out of sight of the entrance. At least I could tell her I tried, but I hoped this was a waste of time.

  There didn’t seem to be anyone else outside. I checked my watch – ten to twelve. If I went in the greenhouse I’d seen on the map, someone might decide to take me on a tour. I headed to the lake.

  The rain was not letting up at all. I kept my hood up and my head down, but the rain didn’t roll off because my coat was so wet already. I stood under a tree next to the lake and tried to look like a tourist. Now that I thought about it, why would Sasha approach me? Sandra hadn’t been able to meet him to say that I would be there in her place. I could, at least, have waited until the following week and not come in a rainstorm.

  I shivered. The cold was soaking right into my bones. I heard a noise behind me and turned, but I couldn’t see anyone.

  I stared at the lake, watching the splashes on the surface, watching it for so long that it started to seem like a rippling, monstrous lizard skin.

  I checked my watch again. The smell of the rich, damp earth and beaten flowers was fading as I stood there. Either I was getting used to it, or I was getting a cold. This was ridiculous. Sasha wouldn’t know me, I didn’t know Sasha. I had no idea what Sandra wanted to pass on. There was still a few minutes before twelve, but I left, heading towards the exit.

  The rain got even heavier, and I didn’t hear the man approach me. His hand rested on my shoulder and I turned in alarm. He was much older than I expected Sasha to be, easily late fifties, with heavy eyebrows and a serious expression.

  ‘Sandra?’ he said.

  I shook my head. He looked away searching for words. The rain ran from the brim of his hat.

  ‘Sandra go?’ He mimed away, with his hand. ‘Informatsiya Sandra?’

  His face was slightly tense. The fact that he didn’t speak English made me trust him more.

  ‘Ya skuchayu po ney.’

  He missed her. I pulled the soggy letter from my sleeve and held it out to him. He took it, nodded his head, and walked back the way he’d come.

  I regretted it instantly. Shivering, I headed back to the Metro.

  Alison looked at me in horror.

  ‘Strip off,’ she said. ‘I’ll get you my dressing gown.’

  I was shaking all over by now, wet through to my bra and pants. I went into her bathroom and stripped, wringing each item as much as my stiff hands could. I towel dried my hair, and emerged to a cup of tea.

  ‘I wasn’t expecting you to come out in this,’ she said. ‘You really need a phone.’

  I knew that. Kit had finally told me that he didn’t have a phone because in the hotel he’d been called at night by women wanting to come to his room. He tried leaving the phone off the hook, and the receptionist knocked to insist he replace the receiver as it was messing up the switchboard. As if. His only respite was to wrap it in clothes and put it inside his suitcase. I didn’t know whether Charlie had been alone in a hotel before Alison arrived, and I didn’t think that Charlie would have been as resistant to the phone calls. So, I didn’t explain why we really didn’t have a phone.

  ‘Kit says there’s no point having something you’re reluctant to use.’

  Bobby was sitting on the sofa with a book. He waved and then ignored me; we wouldn’t be exploring today. I sat at the dining table.

  ‘So, what have you been up to?’ asked Alison.

  ‘Um, learning Russian. Reading. Not much.’

  ‘Have you seen Sandra again?’

  ‘No.’ I moved my hands around the cup, trying to soak up more heat. ‘Have you been up to much?’

  ‘Yes. It’s much easier in the holiday. Everyone has been planning for this the whole school year. Maybe when Bobby goes to school, I’ll become an organised mother.’

  ‘You’re sending him?’

  ‘Yes, well, with number two coming along, I think it’s for the best. Charlie said he’ll get a car so I can drop him off at school.’

  ‘When are you due?’

  ‘November. So, if it’s anything like last time, I’ll be active until the end of August, and then it will all start slowing down again. Quite good timing, really.’

  I was glad I had Sandra. If I’d been relying on Alison to keep me company, I’d be stuck.

  Alison refilled my cup. ‘So, I was going to ask you a favour. While I’m mobile, I wanted to plan a trip to Helsinki to stock up on baby stuff, and clothes for Bobby too.’

  ‘And toys,’ said Bobby.

  ‘And toys. And I’m sure there are things you could do with. Maybe for the kitchen? Or books? They have a good English selection in this shop I’ve heard about.’

  ‘That sounds great. So, Charlie can’t go?’

  ‘No.’

  Alison looked away, and I wondered what he had planned for that time. She blinked a few times. I hoped she didn’t ask about the night he was supposed to be with Kit. I couldn’t lie for Charlie.

  ‘Will you get UPDK to organise it all?’

  ‘Either them, or the Russian department at the embassy. I don’t know, Charlie will sort it out, hotels and stuff. To be honest, it would just be nice to go away for a bit and not worry about what you say or who you speak to.’

  I noticed the silence, then. Alison saw me look at the record player.

  ‘He won’t have any noise when he’s reading.’ She nodded her head towards Bobby.

  ‘You’re being noisy with the talking,’ he said.

  ‘Not that noisy.’

  ‘You’re going to be busy,’ I said.

  ‘Yes. What are your plans? You really need one for when it gets cold. You won’t want to explore quite so much in the autumn.’

  ‘I want to get much better at Russian, maybe do some translations. I see Galina twice a week, but it’s not much. So, I’m going to look at doing a proper course, like a degree.’

  ‘I’m not sure you can, with your visa.’

  ‘Maybe I can just get more hours with Galina, then. And
I really need to go shopping. I’ve totally avoided it so far. I can’t face asking Natalya to let me go with her.’

  ‘That’s her name? Your maid is called Natalya?’

  ‘My nanny was called Natalya,’ said Bobby. ‘She played with me.’

  Alison left the table and began to bang plates around in the kitchen.

  ‘It’s probably not the same one,’ I said.

  Alison coughed and cleared her throat, then shouted through. ‘Charlie got hold of some baked beans. I’m not sure how they will go with rye bread, but that’s what we’re having for lunch.’

  ‘Perfect,’ I said.

  I could hear Alison sniffing occasionally as she opened the can and poured it into a saucepan to heat. Nice saucepans. That’s something I could get from Helsinki.

  The rain continued to fall against the balcony window. I got up to look out of the window. The cars drove along Vernadskogo, some with their lights on, and I was sure a couple were missing their wipers. There was a lot of surface spray and I could see sitting water on the road, where they hadn’t built in a proper camber.

  It was peaceful watching the cars, imagining the noise and cold, without being a part of it. My clothes were probably still dripping in the bathtub, and I had yet to walk home. But not right now. I pulled the dressing gown more tightly around me and thought, I could get a dressing gown too. That was one of the things I never thought to pack. A swimming costume, swimming hat. Once I started writing a list I could see it being way too much. I’d been content until I had the chance to get more. Maybe that’s what it was like, living here. If you can’t get it, you don’t think about it. Somehow, I doubted it. I still felt as if I was on holiday. It was a temporary state for me.

  The phone startled me.

  ‘Can you answer it?’ shouted Alison. ‘It’ll just be Charlie. Tell him I’ll call him back.’

  I grimaced and answered. ‘Hello, it’s Martha.’

  ‘Ah, Martha.’ Charlie hesitated. He didn’t even sound embarrassed. ‘I was ringing to speak to my wife. Is she there?’

  ‘She says she’s busy with lunch and will call you back.’