Cast No Shadow

by Peter Alderson Sharp

  “After that I was completely celibate until last year when I made the decision to use Jürgen Meyer to wean as much information out of him as I could. The easiest way to do that was to get him into bed.

  “I would be lying to you if I told you I did not enjoy it. At last, I was in a bed with a handsome man who genuinely desired me and wanted to please me. It wasn’t the ideal circumstances, but it was better than anything I have ever known before.”

  Sybilla finished her story, quietly sobbing in Kelly’s arms. He held her closer and kissed her gently on the forehead, she responded by muzzling her head into his neck.

  They sat for some time like this until Kelly stirred. Almost reluctantly he said, “We had better get a move on. It’s really dark now.”

  “No,” Sybilla responded. “I couldn’t lead you in the dark. Hansy could, but I don’t have his experience. We will stay here tonight. Hansy will have found us by morning and he will continue the journey with you. I will go over the ridge and down the valley to my sister. Hans will catch me up before I reach her house.”

  Kelly felt a pang at the thought of her leaving but said nothing.

  Instead Sybilla said lightly, “We had better bed down for the night. Did you bring Hansy’s large sleeping bag?”

  “Yes.” Kelly hauled it out of his bergen. “I have it here.”

  “Good.” Sybilla hesitated. “I hope you won’t think me forward, but in the interests of staying warm and comfortable, can I suggest we use my sleeping bag as a base to soften these benches and both crawl into Hansy’s bag?”

  “In the interest of warmth, that sounds like a good idea,” said Kelly, trying not to sound too eager.

  Sybilla started to strip off her outer clothing and Kelly followed suit. She went as far as the full-length skin-tight thermal underwear, much favoured by Norwegian skiers and climbers. She had undressed in front of the window and the backlight had turned her figure into a black silhouette. As she stood there clad only in her underwear, the silhouette gave the impression of her standing naked before him.

  Kelly marvelled at her statuesque beauty portrayed in profile. She was quite simply perfect. Then the moment was gone. She turned and made her way to the sleeping bag.

  After some fumbling, a little muted giggling and some “shhhs”, they manoeuvred themselves into the sleeping bag. It was a snug fit. Of necessity they were in effect embracing. Feeling her so close to him, Kelly knew what he wanted to do, and he knew that Sybilla felt the same.

  He lowered his lips to hers.

  Russia

  As the sun crept across the floor of the cabin the lovers lay passionately entwined. They had made the night last as long as they could, sleeping intermittently and embracing closely when awake. Reluctantly, and without either speaking it, they knew the time had come to rise. There was some scrambling in the bottom of the bag to find discarded underwear before both emerged. They dressed quickly, then, after a hug and a lingering kiss, they began to collect their kit together, ready to move.

  “Hallooo?” The gentle call from the door startled them both. They reeled in unison to see Hans in the doorway.

  “Are we ready?” he asked jauntily. “Dan and I have some way to go yet. We have to walk to Russia!”

  The attempt at mirth was lost on the two lovers, who nevertheless tried to appear upbeat.

  “I’ll just walk up the treeline a few hundred metres,” said Hans. “I need to check we are not being observed.”

  The other two grunted a response and Hans shrugged, moving away. Once Hans was out of sight the two embraced fondly, kissing and caressing. Sybilla began to cry.

  “Sybilla—” Kelly started.

  “Don’t say anything Dan. Just promise me one thing.”

  “Anything.” He wiped the tears from her cheek.

  “After this is all over, please come and find me. Please!”

  “I promise,” Kelly nodded.

  Sybilla disengaged herself from him, hoisted up her bergen and walked out of the cabin without a backward glance.

  Kelly remained in the doorway for a long moment, watching her progress towards the ridge, before he too stepped out, turned, and walked along the treeline until he met up with Hans.

  After a cursory nod, they set out together. Neither spoke for a while. Kelly was glad to be alone with his thoughts.

  Until Hans spoke. “I thought you two were never going to get up!”

  Kelly’s head spun round to look at Hans. Hans didn’t meet his surprised stare, he merely resolutely watched where he was going.

  “You saw us together?” Kelly inquired.

  “Hell, yes!” Hans responded. “I’ve been outside since four this morning. I was absolutely freezing. I had to go for a walk to warm up.”

  “Why didn’t you wake us?” asked Kelly.

  “You were awake!” answered Hans and now he did turn his head and look directly at Kelly. “I didn’t like to interrupt.”

  Kelly didn’t speak for a moment, then asked, “You didn’t mind?”

  “Mind you sleeping with my big sister? No, I didn’t mind. Gunnar is a good man, but she is a special person and deserves love and attention. If you can give her that, then why would I mind? God knows she’s been deprived of it for long enough.”

  Hans paused for just a moment then went on, “However, you using my sleeping bag! That I mind!”

  Kelly looked at him to see if he was serious, but there was a smile on his face. “You know about Gunnar’s—” Kelly wasn’t sure how to finish the sentence.

  “About Gunnar’s problem, you mean? Yes, I’ve known about that for a long time. I imagine big sisters are the same the world over. Even though I’m only a year younger, Sybilla assumes that she knows everything, and I know nothing.”

  “She tried to hide it from you?” Kelly asked.

  “Of course,” answered Hans in a matter-of-fact way. “She was the most beautiful teenager in Norway and could have had the pick of any young man in the area. How could she come to terms with the fact that the man she had chosen couldn’t satisfy her?”

  Kelly realised that Hans’s description of his sister was brotherly hyperbole, but he wouldn’t have disputed it.

  They left the treeline and walked across tundra for about an hour and a half before stopping.

  Turning to Kelly, Hans spoke. “This is as far as I go,” he said. “The border is about fifteen minutes’ walk towards the next ridge. I dare not approach in case I am picked up. They would assume I was a spy, coming as I do from German occupied Norway.”

  He gestured into the distance. “When you get to the ridge look half left. You will see a long wood. The wood descends to the River Jakobselv. Further into the wood you will find a small wooden bridge. Cross there. Nobody guards it. It’s too small to be important. Climb up the ridge on the other side keeping to the treeline, then walk along the treeline until you come to the first firebreak. Go along it. About 800 metres in you will see a cabin.”

  Kelly nodded, listening to the instructions carefully.

  “It is the cabin of Josef Sverlov, a woodcutter. I used to stay there when I was younger, before the war. It was a good centre for walking and climbing. Mention my name, he will remember me. He speaks a little English. It was our common language. I speak no Russian and he speaks no Norwegian.”

  “Quite a long way to go to climb?” Kelly suggested.

  Hans laughed. “I had a motive! He had the most beautiful daughter, years older than me, but I was madly in love with her.”

  “Still see her?” asked Kelly

  “Never,” Hans smiled. “She married a senior party member and moved to Leningrad. Had a child as I remember. Stays with the old man occasionally.”

  “I’ll give him your regards,” said Kelly as they shook hands prior to parting.

  Kelly watched Hans making his way back towards Bjornstad and his two sisters. How he wished he could return with him. Reluctantly, he turned towards his goal and strode out for the ridge.

 
Kelly hammered on the door of the wooden chalet. It was dark and cold. The journey had been relatively easy but had taken him longer than expected. He reflected that he was now in Russia, only just perhaps, but in Russia, nevertheless.

  The cabin door creaked open ever so slightly and the small crack revealed an eye peering out. A gruff voice spoke in what Kelly knew was Russian. At Cambridge he had majored in Balkan languages and, although Russian wasn’t covered, there were many similarities.

  “I am British,” said Kelly in English. “Hans Knudsen sent me. I speak no Russian.”

  Instantly the door swung open and the creature with the eye sprang out, embracing Kelly enthusiastically. Finally, he stepped back, grasped Kelly’s hand, and shook it vigorously.

  Kelly now saw that the creature was in fact a man, Josef no doubt, small in height, but rotund with a large barrel chest. The arms were as thick as a bear’s and clearly extremely powerful. The head was covered in a shock of grey hair, hanging in curls that reached to his shoulders. He was dressed in heavy pants and wore a thick angora sweater. Both had seen better days.

  “Come in! Come in!” the man cried, ushering Kelly into the warmth of the cabin. It was like entering an enchanted chalet. A log fire spluttered and spat in the grate, casting shadows and suffusing everything in a soft red glow. Besides the fire, the lighting consisted of one oil lamp hung in the centre of the room. All around the room, countless ornaments and brass fittings glistened. The walls were hung with rich tapestries and religious icons.

  The floor was bare wood, except for a rug which lay in front of the fire. On either side of the rug sat two heavy leather armchairs, old and battered but still serviceable. Directly in front of the fire was a sofa, draped in loose throws. The whole scene was one of comfort and warmth, a welcoming oasis in a bleak landscape. After introductions were completed, Kelly gave a very brief account of his presence in Russia, much to the old man’s delight.

  Josef asked, “How is Hans? I miss him, I don’t see him now that Tanya is gone.”

  “He is well,” said Kelly. “He said to give you his regards.”

  The old man struggled with the meaning of ‘regards’, so Kelly reinterpreted as, “He said he likes you and misses seeing you.”

  “Pah!” spat the old man, making a swiping motion with his hand. “Misses Tanya, you mean. He was so in love with her, poor boy, so young.”

  He shook his head and smiled as he reminisced about what must have been happy days.

  “Do you see her much?” asked Kelly.

  “Two or three times a year,” Josef responded. “She is a good daughter and never forgets her old papa. She has a child of her own now.” He gestured upstairs, putting a finger to his lips in a sign of silence for the sleeping child.

  “Tanya is here?” asked Kelly surprised.

  “No, just the child,” said Josef. “Tanya comes, but only stays a few days. She has a very busy job in the ministry in Leningrad, but she leaves the child for two, three, occasionally four weeks with old grandpa, then collects her again later.”

  “Doesn’t the child mind?” asked Kelly.

  Josef shook his head and smiled broadly. “She loves it here.” He swept his arm in a half circle to indicate the landscape as if the walls of the cabin were transparent. He stood and walked to the small dresser, which was the only other piece of furniture in the room, and retrieved two glasses. Balancing the glasses in one hand he reached for a bottle of clear liquid, pulled the cork out with his teeth, and proceeded to pour an ample measure into each glass, passing one to Kelly.

  Kelly knew it was vodka as soon as the liquid touched his lips. It burned his throat and he fought to catch his breath. However, after a few more sips, he decided he could get to like it.

  They talked and reminisced for a little while longer before the old man started to prepare the sofa as a bed for Kelly.

  When it was ready, he stretched. “I must get some sleep Dan. You have been such good company, like having Hans here again, but my granddaughter keeps me busy from the time she wakes to the time she goes to bed. I need my rest.”

  “When does she go back?” asked Kelly.

  “Sadly, Tanya returns to pick her up in two days. The time goes so fast when she is here and so slowly when she has gone.”

  “Hans will be sorry he missed Tanya,” suggested Kelly.

  “Maybe,” said the old man. He leaned towards Kelly and spoke as if in confidence. “Last time she was here, she went missing for several hours. I was worried so went after her. I managed to track her footsteps in the snow. I found her on the ridge near the border, looking out towards Norway. Sometimes I wonder … Maybe it’s better if we don’t worry about what other people say … Perhaps we should do what our hearts tell us, eh?” With that and a wink, he turned and made his way upstairs.

  “Privet, Zdravstvujte!” Kelly was conscious of someone speaking. His head, still filled with cobwebs, emerged from under the ample cover he had used as a blanket. He tried to focus.

  “Privet, Zdravstvujte!” The phrase was repeated. As he climbed slowly out of sleep and back into consciousness, he became aware of a young girl standing on the carpet in front of the fire and facing him. She had the characteristics of the Russian female, blonde, clear features, and a thin mouth, and there was certainly a hint of the steppe about the slight slant of her almond-shaped green eyes.

  She was dressed in standard peasant garb, wearing an off-white tunic and three-quarter length green woollen skirt. Kelly guessed that the ample thick-soled boots were reindeer skin.

  She was in the process of peeling off the tunic, whilst one foot wrestled with the other to remove one of the boots. Once accomplished she set about the other boot, whilst peeling off the grey jumper that had been under the tunic.

  What eventually emerged from its winter cocoon was a girl of about eleven or twelve, dressed in a white linen blouse, white wool stockings and green skirt.

  Leaning forward to Kelly she extended her hand and repeated the phrase, which was now becoming familiar to Kelly, “Privet! Zdravstvujte!” she said and smiled.

  Kelly felt confident that the body language indicated a greeting, so he stood up and pointed to himself, saying, “Dan, my name is Dan,” and taking her outstretched hand as he did so.

  The girl wrinkled her nose as if not understanding, and then releasing his hand she pointed to herself.

  “Katya!” She said, smiling broadly, displaying a perfect set of even white teeth.

  Their, rather stuttering, tete-a-tete was interrupted by the slamming of the rear door and the sound of much rustling and heavy breathing, followed by the emergence of the old man from the small vestibule that served as a store, a pantry and a kitchen.

  His face lit up when he saw the girl. He smiled at them both. “Getting to know each other eh?” he smiled.

  “Rather difficult,” responded Kelly. “I have no Russian and clearly this young lady has no English.”

  Josef spun round to stare at Kelly in surprise for a moment before he exploded into laughter, his whole frame shaking. “She is up to tricks, Dan!” he roared. “She speaks English as well as you.”

  The girl lapsed into uncontrollable giggles at Kelly’s obvious discomfort.

  The old man pointed at her. “She is what you call ...” he struggled to find the word, then nodded, “a rascal!”

  Kelly had to agree. There was certainly something of the imp about her. He looked askance, first at Josef and then at the girl.

  Between giggles the girl managed to say, “I’m sorry, I really didn’t know you were English when I first spoke to you, but when I realised you were, I couldn’t help just playing around.” She cocked her head. “Have I offended you?” She sounded worried.

  It was Kelly’s turn to laugh. “No of course not. It was a good trick.”

  “One of Katya’s main subjects at school is English. Tell Dan what your other main subject is, Katya,” the old man instructed.

  The child looked embarrassed and scold
ed Josef in Russian. His response was to laugh and to advance on her. Grasping the child, he pulled her gently to him wrapping her in a bear hug. The girl nestled her head into his huge chest.

  “She doesn’t like to boast,” he said, “but I do. She is a quite brilliant student.” He looked down at her, clearly bursting with pride as he spoke.

  “Not only is she good at English, but she is also brilliant at mathematics. Do you know what her hobby is?”

  Kelly raised his eyebrows in response.

  “She likes doing word and number puzzles.” The old man paused for effect before adding with emphasis, “in English!”

  Kelly’s face registered how impressed he was, but for her part the poor girl was dying of acute embarrassment, her face almost crimson as she tried to become invisible.

  “This old man talks too much,” she said, the tone scolding, but the look that passed between them was of pure devotion.

  After Katya regained her composure, she became chatty and the three exchanged small talk, until, standing up and rubbing his stomach, Josef announced, “I’m hungry! I’ll make us something to eat.” He disappeared into the small kitchen, Katya immediately following.

  Kelly felt that he should help too, but there wasn’t enough room in the small kitchen, and he was sent back into the living room with a flea in his ear from the child.

  From time to time, one or other of the two would emerge from the kitchen and chat with Kelly before returning to continue with the preparation. Eventually they both emerged, Josef carrying a steaming bowl which he placed on the little table. The dish appeared to be rabbit served with boiled potatoes and black bread.

  Kelly was famished and tucked in. The potatoes were well past their best, but the meat, which he was informed was arctic hare marinated in ale and vodka, was delicious. After the meal, Josef rested for a few minutes before moving into the back area again to put on his heavy outer clothes.

  “More work to do I’m afraid” he called as he left the cabin. “Katya, can you check the traps?” He then added something in Russian.