A Time To Pay

by David Woods

  They walked up endless stairs to a top floor flat where about a dozen people were all talking loudly, but a hush descended as they entered the room. The host stepped rapidly forward and Andrew introduced him as Viktor Kogan, a man of about forty with a round red and jolly type of face and thinning hair. His greeting was formal. “How do you do” They shook hands enthusiastically and he proceeded to show them to a large centre table where he introduced all the other guests, about half of them ladies, who were dressed in dark conservative clothes. Brian could not remember all their names, but was delighted with the warm welcome he received. The conversation moved from the formal introductions to lighter matters like food, drink and western clothes.

  Food was served, and all sat around the large table eating and talking. Both Brian and Manfred were questioned at length about the way of life in the West, but their own questions were only vaguely answered in very general terms. Due to the amount of talking, the meal lasted for hours, and when at last they rose Andrew grabbed Brian’s arm. “There’s someone I’d like you to meet. She arrived late.” They walked off to a quiet corner where a young woman in her late twenties, of medium build with short dark hair stood talking to a friend, who backed away as they approached. Brian, I’d like to introduce a good friend of mine. Irina Svechin. This is Brian Wilkins.”

  “Oh, Mr. Wilkins, I’m delighted to meet you. Andrew has told me so much about you.”

  “Please call me Brian, and I’m delighted to meet you too.”

  “I understand you make very good farm machinery.”

  “Our factories turn out the best.”

  “Well, I hope you are successful in the U.S.S.R.”

  “So do I. What do you do for a living, Irina?”

  “Oh, I’m just an office worker, doing a boring job, the same thing every day.”

  “I’m sure it can’t be boring. I bet it’s a job that requires considerable skill and intelligence.

  “Not as interesting as making farm machines.” Irina obviously wanted to steer the conversation away from her occupation. “What do you think of your western girls wearing those revealing mini- skirts?”

  Brian kept a serious expression. “I think there should be a law passed to make it compulsory.”

  She appeared shocked for a moment, but then burst out laughing. “You’re a wicked man, Brian.” From then on the conversation remained light-hearted until the party broke up. Brian and Manfred thanked the host and departed, walking along a dark corridor towards the stairs. Brian looked behind him as he turned a corner, and noticed a tall burly figure following. He felt uneasy as he recognised the man from the original delegation that visited the Frankfurt Show. They clip-clopped down the staircase and out to the waiting car, Brian looking behind again as they drove along to see a car following that stopped just beyond their hotel.

  Arrangements were made the next day for them to visit two empty factories in the industrial outskirts of Moscow. One of the sites seemed ideal with good access roads, plenty of space for storage and an office block in front. Later that afternoon Brian and Manfred explained their ideas to the two officials via the interpreter, and handed over papers for consideration. That evening they had an unappetizing meal in the hotel and then went out for a walk to Red Square, gazing at the illuminated buildings and Brian remarked “it’s a beautiful city, but I hate the place.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Because I can’t stand being followed everywhere.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “There’s a bloke over there.” He nodded towards a shadowed area. “He followed us tonight and last night.”

  “Whatever for?”

  “To see who we are corrupting with our western ideas, I think.”

  “Or perhaps they think we’re spies.”

  “Well, whatever. I won’t be sorry to get on that plane and go home.” They walked briskly back to the hotel, both feeling weary.

  The following day discussions were held in an office near Red Square. They progressed well, but the Russians had to refer to higher authority in order to finalise their part of the agreement.

  That evening Andrew collected and took them to another dinner party that was as enjoyable as the previous, but this time Brian noticed they were followed from the hotel and said to Andrew. “Why do they find it necessary to follow us?”

  “One of their bad habits I’m afraid. Don’t worry about it.”

  The only person Brian recognised at the party was Irina, who greeted him warmly. “Hello Brian. Sorry about the shortage of mini- skirts at our parties.”

  He laughed. “Never mind. The next time I come I’ll bring a really short one just for you.”

  She blushed and giggled. Later in the evening, just before they said goodbye she came up to him, gripped his hand and guided him to a quiet corner. “Brian, when are you returning home?”

  “Tomorrow morning.”

  “You will come back again, won’t you?”

  “I think I’ll probably have to, if I’m to finalise the deal.”

  “Oh good. But you will promise to see me when you do?”

  “I’ll certainly try.” He looked into her eyes and saw a sad and desperate face, and was quite taken aback. “Andrew will tell you when I return.”

  “I will really look forward to seeing you again.” She kissed him briefly and guided him to the door, where farewells were said with considerable feeling. Brian noticed the burly watcher at the end of the corridor, but took no further interest because his mind was filled with the evening’s turn of events. Why did Irina look so desperate? It was not the look of a woman in love, although she was affectionate, but why was she so keen to see me again?

  He had difficulty sleeping that night, and paced up and down his room. At one point he had convinced himself the whole trip was a waste of time, and he certainly did not intend to get involved with a Russian woman. Eventually the morning light streamed through the bedroom window, and he decided it was still worth proceeding with the deal, but that it would be wise to be very careful.

  Both men were very pleased to climb aboard the jet and sat together, deep in thought. Brian broke the silence as they levelled off at 33,000 feet. “What did you think of Irina, Manfred?”

  “Very pretty. And she obviously fancied you.”

  “I think she wants something, but not necessarily me.”

  “Go on with you. I thought she was about to take you to her bedroom.”

  They both laughed and Brian said “I can’t make her out, but I’m sure it’s not sex she’s after.”

  It was late Friday afternoon when Brian finally arrived home to a warm welcome from Anna, who wanted to know all the details of the trip. Brian filled her in, but left out the conversation with Irina, and the whole family had an enjoyable and loving weekend.

  Brian felt good as he returned to his office on Monday morning. Of all the messages left on his desk one particularly caught his eye and he stared at it for a moment. It read, please ring Mr. Hawkins as soon as possible!

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Brian sat in his office trying to forget about Hawkins request to ring, and attempted to catch up with work left undone whilst he was away. When the phone rang he knew instinctively who it would be.

  Hawkins sounded very cheerful. “Hello Mr. Wilkins. Did you have a successful trip?”

  “Yes. We made considerable progress.”

  “And will you be going back?”

  “I might. It depends on the other side agreeing to my proposals.”

  “Oh, I see. And how likely do you think that is?”

  “Difficult to say. They may agree or, they may turn them down. It’s a job to tell really.”

  “I’m sure it is, but the best of luck anyway.”

  They rang off and Brian pondered the conversation. He had deliberately been vague in an effort to get H
awkins to admit to what he really wanted. He did not want to say he would be returning, because at the back of his mind a voice was saying watch out for another blackmail attempt.

  Two weeks passed with no word from Russia or Hawkins. Brian began to wonder if they had gone cold on the deal, but then a letter arrived requesting a further meeting in Moscow before signing an agreement, and could he travel the following Wednesday.

  Anna greeted the news with resignation. “Oh well, I suppose I will have to get used to the idea. How long are you going for this time?”

  “Only three days, I hope. I should be back by the weekend.”

  Brian was not surprised to receive a telephone call from Hawkins the next day. “Good morning, Mr. Hawkins. Obviously you’ve heard about my impending trip?”

  Well, I did have a feeling you would be going back.”

  “A feeling! You don’t have feelings any more than you take guesses. I wouldn’t be surprised if you arranged the whole thing.”

  “I can assure you I did not,” he said emphatically. “And besides, why should I?”

  “I don’t know. Just tell me why you rang then.”

  “To wish you luck. And to ask if a young lady could visit, and thank you for what you did for her.”

  “Of course she can. I’ll be pleased to see her again.”

  “Good. Will next Tuesday morning in your office be ok?”

  “Yes. I’ll be here.”

  “Will you be travelling on your own this time, by the way?”

  “Yes. And I’ll be off next Wednesday.”

  “I’ll make sure the usual help is available when you arrive.”

  “Thanks very much.” That’s funny. He did not want anything, thought Brian. Perhaps he really does want to help, but why does he want me to see Sally after all this time? And the day before I am going to Russia.

  At ten thirty on Tuesday Brian’s visitor strolled into the office, and he looked up from his desk to see a smartly dressed young lady in a matching red skirt and jacket. He noticed the flared skirt was about 4” above her knee, and studied her face as she smiled at him. “Hello Brian. How are you?”

  “Fine, thank you. You do look different from the last time we met. I hardly recognised you.” When he looked at her again, he did recognise the fair wavy hair that tumbled down her shoulders, and her face looked vaguely familiar. “Do sit down and have a cup of coffee.”

  “Thanks. I could murder a cup.”

  “What have you been doing for the last few months, or shouldn’t I ask?”

  “Well, as you can see I’ve had some improvements made to my appearance.”

  “I thought you looked fine before, but even better now.”

  “Thanks. And I’d like to thank you again for getting me out. I’ll never forget what you did for me.”

  “I seem to recall you saving my life, so no thanks are necessary.” Coffee arrived, over which they chatted about the weather and current affairs, until they eventually ran out of polite conversation. Then Sally looked seriously at Brian and said slowly. “We both owe our lives to one other person.”

  “You mean your friend, who seemed so pleased to see you?”

  “Yes. Actually he’s my fiancé.”

  “I see. He’s over there and you can’t see him.”

  “That’s right. And I desperately want to see him.”

  “But how did he save our lives?” Apart from stopping that mob from beating me up.”

  “He rang customs to say the forage harvester had already been searched.”

  “Oh. And why would they take any notice of him?”

  “Because he’s a major in the KGB.”

  “Bloody hell. Is he really?”

  “Yes, but he’s on our side.” Brian was stunned into silence and not the least bit surprised when she said. “I want to go to Moscow with you tomorrow as your assistant.”

  “How can you be my assistant without knowing anything about the deal?”

  “I’ve studied it already.”

  “How could you do that?”

  “Easy. Copies can be obtained.”

  “Hawkins, I suppose?”

  “That’s right. But I don’t know where he got it from.”

  Brian was at a loss for words, but not Sally. “I can be your interpreter. There will be no risk.”

  “So you can speak Russian?”

  “Fluently. Brian, please let me come.”

  “This friend of yours will be in Moscow at the same time?”

  “Yes. He’s just been transferred to a new job. I just want to see him again. Is that too much to ask?”

  “I suppose not, if that’s all you have in mind.”

  “Of course it is. There won’t be any funny packages to smuggle out.”

  “All right you can come. Meet me at Heathrow at two.

  “Oh Brian, I’m so grateful.” Her eyes glistened and her face became a picture of happiness. She left soon after, and he sat back wondering what he had got himself into this time. She seemed genuinely desperate to see this KGB man, and with her face altered she won’t be recognised, he thought.

  Sally arrived at the designated time wearing a fashionable trouser suit, her wavy hair looked exactly the same, but she wore glasses. She beckoned him to a quiet corner and whispered. “I’m travelling as Jane Smith, so don’t forget to call me Jane.”

  “Right, but don’t let me down. Remember you are my translator and assistant and nothing more.” She nodded and they walked off in the direction of the check- in desks.

  Moscow was wet and cold, and they were met by Andrew from the embassy. As he introduced Sally as Jane Smith he watched both their faces, but could see no indication that they were already acquainted. Andrew delivered them to the same hotel and they checked in, finding themselves in adjoining rooms. Brian checked the door, locked it and then relaxed on his bed until dinner time, when they were joined by Andrew for a long drawn out meal. He talked about events at home, and no mention was made about the reason for their visit until they were about to part when he asked. “Have you got a meeting in the morning?”

  “Yes, I hope we’ll be able to conclude the deal.”

  “Don’t push too hard, these people don’t like to be rushed.”

  “So I’ve noticed.”

  “Oh, by the way, Viktor has invited you both to a party tomorrow night.”

  “That’ll be nice, what time does it start?”

  “Later this time, after dinner here.”

  “Right, you will enjoy Viktor’s party, Jane.”

  “I’m sure I will.” It was late and they were both tired, so after a drink in the bar they went to bed.

  Brian lay awake thinking for about an hour before nodding off. He slept lightly and awoke an hour later to sounds from the next room. He got out of bed quietly, crept across to the adjoining door and listened to muffled voices, which stopped and were replaced by the unmistakeable sounds of lovemaking. Brian smiled to himself, heaved a sigh of relief and went back to bed, happy that’s Sally’s story appeared to be genuine. He curled up thinking what a relief it must be for the couple to be making love after so long.

  The next morning he sat opposite Sally for breakfast. She looked happy and he winked at her. “Have a nice time last night?”

  “Fantastic, thank you.”

  “A repeat performance tonight, is there?”

  She blushed and kicked him under the table.

  The same Russian officials arrived with the interpreter at ten, and Brian introduced Jane as his assistant. They exchanged glances and grinned. The interpreter said. “We would like to discuss further details this morning. And visit a farm this afternoon.”

  “That’s fine” said Brian. “When will you be ready to sign the documents?”

  “Hope we can conclude the deal tomorrow.”
>
  “Good, let’s get on with the proceedings then.” After an hour’s discussion, during which Sally said very little except nodding her agreement from time to time, it was announced. “A car is waiting to take us to lunch, and visit a farm. Although it was a large car, there did not seem much room by the time three large Russian men had squeezed in. The interpreter drove quickly through the city streets and out into the countryside, and it took two and a half hours to reach their destination. They came to a halt outside a single storey concrete building with small windows spaced evenly along the side, and there was a large chimney at one end belching black smoke. They were ushered into a warm room with a table in the centre, which was neatly laid ready for lunch served in white enamel bowls. The meal consisted of a thick vegetable soup, helped down with chunks of bread. The Russians ate enthusiastically and the English guests tried to copy them, but failed, finishing after their hosts had sat back and belched. The interpreter announced. “We would like you to look at some of our machines. And tell us if you could improve them.”

  They walked out into a large farmyard that was a bit muddy. Sally looked down at her dainty shoes. “Would you mind if I sat in the car while you carry on?”

  Brian replied quickly. “No, that’s all right, I’ll fill you in later.”

  “Thanks.” She walked off leaving the Russians smiling and nodding to each other. The farm machinery was parked in rows in an open yard, most of it rusty and in a poor state of repair. Brian set to work examining each item and making notes. The Russian officials were joined by six farm workers, who talked non- stop as they followed Brian around. After two hours he had seen enough, and when he looked up from writing his last notes he froze as he recognised a man he had seen at the farm in East Germany. He recovered quickly and bent down again to look at the last mower, turning his back on the man and when he looked up again he had disappeared.