Moonlight on the Thames

by Lauren Westwood

  ‘Thank you,’ she whispered to him. He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it, then went off towards the stage.

  People began coming in in droves. Chrissie went over to supervise the food and drink, and Nicola ushered in a few late choir members. Two men from IT were in the front by the stage, dealing with the sound system.

  Nicola went to the drinks table. In the time she’d been with Dmitri – a very short time, granted – she hadn’t had any alcohol. She hadn’t missed it either, but right now, a glass to steady her nerves wouldn’t go amiss. Taking a glass of champagne, she moved away from the table to the side of the stage near the large speaker. As she lifted the glass to her lips, a hand grabbed her arm and she almost spilled it.

  She whirled around to find Ollie there. He was clearly on his second or third eggnog already, because his breath stank of rum.

  ‘You seem very friendly with the choir director.’ Ollie leaned in towards her. He still had hold of her arm.

  Nicola removed his hand from her arm. Seeing him around the office was one thing, but having him and Dmitri here in the same place… She should have given more thought to damage control. But it was too late now, and she wasn’t going to lie. Her eyes never leaving his, she took a sip from the glass. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘We’re together.’

  ‘For how long?’ He raised his voice.

  ‘Not long – obviously. Are things OK with Chloe?’

  He ignored her question. Before she knew what was happening, he grabbed her one-handed by the waist, pulling him closer to him. ‘So let me get this straight,’ he said. ‘While I was camped out in that bloody hotel waiting for you to come to me, you were off with that Russian?’

  ‘That’s none of your business.’ She tried to move away but he kept hold of her.

  ‘I’ll take that as a yes.’

  ‘Do what you like,’ she hissed, ‘but get your hands off me.’

  ‘Nicola. We are ready.’ She felt rather than saw Dmitri approach, coming up beside her. He stood, facing Ollie. Dmitri was the taller of the two, though less broad-shouldered than Ollie. Ollie let go of her. She could almost smell the waves of hatred coming off the two men, like two wild dogs facing off. ‘Is everything OK?’ Dmitri said, leaning possessively close.

  ‘Yes fine.’ She turned and kissed him. ‘Go ahead.’

  Dmitri arched an eyebrow in Ollie’s direction, then turned and walked on to the stage. Without fanfare or introduction, he launched the choir in to a rousing rendition of ‘Ding Dong Merrily on High’.

  Ollie grabbed another eggnog from a roving waitress. Nicola began to move nearer to the front of the stage, where a crowd was gathering to join in with the singing. Ollie drifted along beside her. She was uncomfortably aware that people were starting to look their way.

  ‘I’m sorry, Ollie,’ Nicola said. ‘But you can’t keep following me around. We’ve both made our choices. For you, your family is the most important thing right now.’

  ‘Fuck you.’

  ‘What did you say?’ She’d seriously had enough. She rounded on him, raising her voice. ‘Would you like me to go to HR and chat it through with them? I’m sure IT would have a field day going through your phone.’

  ‘You wouldn’t dare.’

  ‘No? Are you sure about that?’ Nicola set her still half-full glass of champagne on to a waitress’s tray. She lowered her voice. ‘If I were you, I wouldn’t put it past me.’

  ‘I can’t fucking believe you,’ Ollie said.

  Nicola spotted Brian and Chrissie looking worriedly in her direction. She began to walk off again.

  ‘So tell me—’ Ollie said.

  Damn it, the man really was making a scene. Thank God the choir was in full voice and Dmitri hadn’t noticed.

  ‘Yes?’ she turned back, seething.

  ‘Why him?’ Ollie lowered his voice. ‘What does he have that I don’t?’

  Nicola thought for a moment. About all the hours she and Ollie had spent together; all the emptiness, the lies, the disappointment. And, above all, the guilt. None of it had ever seemed to bother Ollie one bit. Nicola gave him a pained smile. ‘He has a heart.’

  ‘That’s bullshit.’

  Nicola shrugged. Chrissie and Brian both began walking over; clearly they had realised that she needed rescuing. Nicola turned back to Ollie and gave him a half-smile, her eyelids lowered. Just to be a little bit mean, she leaned in and whispered close to his ear, ‘and an extra inch and a half.’

  She left Ollie standing there, choking down the rest of his eggnog.

  Nicola went over to stand with Brian and Chrissie, who were joining in with the carolling. A lot of people were standing around chatting, with the choir only as background music, but it didn’t really matter. Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves. It was the last Advent Calendar before Christmas, so that was as it should be. She began to relax a little and enjoy the festivities too, much more than she thought she would.

  But, eventually, Chrissie nudged her. The choir had just finished an enthusiastic rendition of ‘Santa Claus is Coming to Town.’

  ‘You’re up now,’ Chrissie said.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Time for your speech.’ Chrissie walked over to where Brian’s PA was holding out a microphone. She took it and brought it back to Nicola.

  Nicola had thought she was prepared for this moment, but now that it was here…

  From up on the stage, Dmitri looked at her, his eyes warm chocolate. He’d been so focused on conducting that she’d thought he’d forgotten about her. But no. He reached a hand down to her and pulled her on to the stage.

  Chrissie handed her the microphone.

  ‘Thank you for coming today,’ Nicola said through the microphone. She waited a second for the chat to die down. ‘We have Chrissie to thank for all the food and decorations. So please give her a round of applause.’

  The crowd obliged, and Chrissie raised her hand to wave. Her face was flushed a fresh-rose colour, and she looked as proud as Nicola had ever seen her.

  When the clapping died down, Nicola continued, ‘I’d also like to thank Dmitri, and the choir of St Anne’s Church, for providing us with the entertainment.’ She took a breath. ‘I first encountered the choir at Waterloo Station while waiting for a delayed train. I was in a bad mood that night, and – though I’m sure none of you will believe it – I was actually quite rude.’

  She waited until the laughter died down.

  ‘But, luckily, Dmitri did not hold it against me. He agreed to bring the choir here for the Advent Calendar.’ She smiled at him, feeling the familiar glow that she always did in his presence. ‘Now, in case you’re wondering why I suddenly wanted to go all out on this occasion, it’s because it’s my swansong. In January, I’ll be leaving Privé.’ Her throat tightened. ‘For me, it will be a new direction. A new start. But I wanted to say, thank you – for putting up with me all these years.’

  There were mutterings of surprise, and a few claps. She relinquished the microphone back to Brian’s PA and was about to step down from the stage. But Dmitri stopped her and led her by the hand over to a piano that had been rolled out on the stage. Nicola looked at Dmitri in surprise. It hadn’t been there before, so it must have been put there while she was speaking.

  Dmitri sat her down on the bench, and then sat down next to her, his hip touching hers. He cued the choir from the piano and played a jazzy gliss of notes. Not a Christmas song, but one she recognised immediately – from when he’d played it for her in her house. The choir members were all smiling as they began to sing, and the audience began to sway and clap in rhythm:

  Let me call you “Sweetheart” I’m in love with you.

  Let me hear you whisper that you love me too.

  Keep the love light glowing in your eyes so true.

  Let me call you “Sweetheart” I’m in love with you.

  Happy tears welled up in Nicola’s eyes as Dmitri glanced in her direction and smiled. She watched his fingers fly across the keys,
mesmerising and brilliant. It didn’t matter that she’d known him such a short time; the past didn’t matter – his or hers. The only thing that mattered was that he was in her life. Only him, and only her.

  Joy bubbled up inside of her as she leaned in and spoke quietly in his ear. The words that she knew were just right. ‘I love you,’ she said.

  Not pausing or faltering for a second, as the song continued on into the next verse, he leaned over and brushed her lips with his. ‘I love you too,’ he said.

  41

  24th December

  On Christmas Eve, Dmitri took Nicola for dinner at Kolya’s house in North London. All of his nearest and dearest were there: Tanya and Mark, Phil (who had brought Carole-Ann as his guest), Kolya and Nigel, and the two noisy and excited children rushing around, shouting and playing. The house was shiny with decorations and candles glowed on the table. The night was filled with laughter, warmth, the smell of Nicola’s perfume and the feel of her (very distracting) hand on his thigh. It was as if she had been part of him – part of all of them – forever, not just a few weeks. After dinner, he played the piano for them. Christmas carols, jazz, and just for her, the Chopin Nocturne. Their time, their songs.

  When they got home, he gave her her gift. In truth, he’d been a little worried about what to get her. But she’d ripped it open with enthusiasm, laughing when she saw the first gift – a box of lingerie.

  ‘Is this for you or for me?’

  He’d laughed too and kissed her. ‘Well, seeing it’s Christmas, I thought we could both benefit.’

  It took a while before she got to unwrapping the other gift he had for her: the small, leatherbound book of Russian fairy tales that had belonged to his mother.

  ‘It’s lovely,’ she said, flipping through the pictures. ‘But…’ she looked concerned, ‘it seems very special.’

  ‘That is why you must have it,’ he said, fingering a lock of her glorious red hair. He opened the book and read the opening of his favourite tale, ‘The Firebird’. How young Ivan had waited in the magical garden for the Firebird. She had come down from the sky, stolen a golden apple and left behind a single flaming feather.

  ‘The song sheets I scattered,’ she said with a laugh. ‘Was that the magic feather that I left behind?’

  ‘Maybe,’ he said. ‘Or perhaps you are young Ivan. Was it not you who went to the ends of the earth to find me?’

  She laughed, kissing him. ‘A Christmas market? Skating? A freezing cold church? Yes, I see your point.’

  She had a gift for him too – she’d booked them a long weekend away at New Year’s. At a five-star hotel in the Cotswolds, which was somewhere he had never been.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ she assured him, ‘they have a piano, and they say you can play it as much as you like. We can’t have you interrupting your practising for something so romantic as a holiday.’

  Dmitri appreciated the fact that she understood. Whatever was coming next was going to be a long road, and he had to be ‘ruthlessly focused’. ‘Thank you,’ he said, nuzzling her, ‘but it may take some persuading for me to leave the room at all.’

  *

  They didn’t get much sleep that night, and by the time Dmitri finally closed his eyes in the early hours of Christmas morning, it was nearly time to get up again. He left Nicola asleep in bed and went home to get changed. He was conducting the choir for the morning service, and then, later on, meeting Nicola at her sister’s house in Putney.

  By the time he left the church he was feeling nervous. He’d worn his grey gloves, even though she preferred him without them, and though, for all he knew, she might have already told her family everything. Besides which, once he went public and ‘told his story’, everyone would know. God, it was going to be difficult. He needed this to go well.

  When he rang the bell, the door was answered by an attractive woman in her early sixties – Nicola’s mother. She seemed friendly, if a little reserved, as she shook his hand and ushered him inside. Jules, a plumper, paler version of Nicola, and her husband Stuart were sitting on the sofa in the lounge, along with Nicola’s stepfather, Teddy. There were several empty bottles of beer on the coffee table between them. In the family room off the kitchen, Ben, the half-brother, was playing a game on his phone, and Jules’ three kids were squabbling in front of the TV.

  Nicola came out of the kitchen wearing an apron. Her hands were covered in flour and she looked flustered, and out of sorts. She brightened when she saw him, and when he bent his head to kiss her on the cheek, she turned her head so that it landed on her mouth. Fine with him.

  After introductions were made (and although Nicola had told Jules that he didn’t drink alcohol), there was an awkward moment of him having to refuse a glass of wine. Dmitri volunteered to help out in the kitchen. But before he could do so, Jules asked him if he wouldn’t mind looking after the children – see if any of them wanted to play a board game or something. Teddy and Stuart went out in the street to look at Stuart’s present to himself: a brand new Porsche in mid-life crisis red. Dmitri made a valiant effort to pry the younger children away from their DVD or strike up a conversation with the older boy. When ultimately, he failed, he went to find Nicola.

  The kitchen was a vast, enormous space with immaculate units and a huge table. Nicola was taking something out of the oven that smelled like burnt vegetables. Her mother and sister were there, doing not very much, and he worried that if he tried to help he’d only get in the way. But as soon as she saw him, she summoned him over to her. She took his hand, her eyes flicking for a moment to his gloves.

  ‘Mum, Jules,’ she said. ‘There’s something I need to tell you.’

  Whatever he’d been expecting her to say – and in truth, he had no idea – he was surprised, even a little shocked, that she chose this moment to tell them the secret she’d been keeping for so many years. About the party, the rape, the job offer… nothing held back.

  Her mother and sister stared at her, their faces expressing shock, and horror, and pity. He slipped his arm around her waist and stroked her hair as she began to cry. By the time she was finished, they were also crying.

  ‘I’m sorry that I’ve had to hurt you like this,’ Nicola said to her mother and Jules. ‘But I needed to get it out in the open. And if I’m going to get through this, I need you on my side. All of you.’

  ‘So what are you going to do now?’ Jules asked, dabbing her eye with a rumpled tissue.

  ‘Go to counselling,’ Nicola said. ‘Take some time out to think about what I want to do next. I’m leaving Privé. I’m going to do something more worthwhile. I have a few ideas.’ She smiled up at Dmitri and he kissed her tenderly. He was so proud of her. But still, hearing the story again hurt him too.

  Nicola’s mother finished the wine in her glass and finally spoke up. ‘I’m so sorry,’ she said. ‘Sorry that I wasn’t a better mum to you. That you couldn’t talk to me, or ask for help, because of what I did to your dad.’

  Nicola seemed to hesitate for a long time before speaking. He knew that this was difficult enough for her already, and the mention of her dad probably made it even harder. ‘You saw a chance to find happiness, and you took it, Mum,’ she said. ‘I think I finally understand that. And that’s what I’m doing too.’ She looked down at Dmitri’s hands, then up at his face. He nodded gently and she removed his gloves, tracing the lines of his scars. ‘Luckily, in this case, no one has to get hurt.’

  Her mum came over then, and hugged both of them, with Jules joining in.

  ‘I’ll go with you to counselling,’ Jules said. ‘If it will help.’

  ‘I don’t know yet,’ Nicola said. ‘We’ll see.’

  Dmitri was surprised when Nicola’s mum reached out for his hand, looking down at the scars. ‘I see you have your own story. And I hope that I’ll learn all about it. Welcome to the family.’ She stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. ‘I’m so glad you’re here.’

  Dmitri swallowed back a tear of his own. He missed his own mother,
but more than that, he wished she – and his father – could see him now. See the person he was finally becoming, and be happy and proud. But then again… maybe they could.

  ‘Thank you,’ he said, smiling at Nicola’s mum. ‘It means a lot to hear that.’

  *

  What had come over her, Nicola didn’t know. After a wonderful night at Kolya’s house, she had known that today would be hard, and it was. All through lunch (her mum had taken over the cooking so it was mostly edible) she felt raw from her revelation and sorry for the pain she had caused her family. And yet, this was a step that she had to take. A new start, something to build on. The past was behind her. She was no longer ‘The Heckler’, no longer defined by the scars inside.

  Dmitri somehow managed to work his magic even on her family. By the end of the afternoon, he had the kids playing card games. When the game switched to poker, Teddy, Stuart, and even a grudging Ben joined in. Later on, when gifts were exchanged, even though Nicola had put both their names on the tag for the wretched Chelsea away kit, somehow, it was Dmitri who had got all the thanks from her half-brother (and who knew that Dmitri could actually talk football and have a proper heated argument about the Premier League and Chelsea’s Champion’s League prospects?).

  Despite the day turning out better than expected, Nicola was relieved when it was time to go. Before they could leave, Dmitri had to promise to take Ben to a football match and to teach Jules’ kids to ice skate. Nicola had hugged her mother and sister and promised to be in touch. She meant it too, now that the truth was no longer an obstacle between them.

  On the train home, Nicola laid her head against Dmitri’s chest and closed her eyes as he stroked her hair.

  ‘What you did was very brave,’ he said.

  ‘It was hard,’ she said. ‘But I felt I needed to do it. No more secrets.’