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Authors: Janet Rogers

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East of the Sun (19 page)

BOOK: East of the Sun
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When she finally looked up, still undecided, she caught something different in his face. The concern that had been there a minute earlier was now tinged with what looked like frustration. He sighed lightly and looked as if he was about to turn away, walk away from her and the difficulties that came with her. She could see all of it in his face, albeit briefly, and in a moment of clarity she understood the meaning of what she’d seen. He didn’t need her, she added nothing to his life. In truth, she only represented complications. She was the one who needed him.

Immediately she felt ashamed of her behaviour. He’d been doing Mara a favour by listening to her theories and then by getting involved. If he decided to withdraw his help now, she would truly be alone and solely responsible for rejecting what appeared to be a genuine offer of help.

She could see the decision take shape in his eyes. Without further thought, and even though she lacked absolute certainty, she made up her mind. She would stop him while she still could.

‘Thank you. I am. All right, that is. But I could do with a cup of hot chocolate as only the Russians can make it. Would you like to join me?’ She was only too aware of the lameness of her invitation. He seemed uncertain, wavering between turning away and accepting her peace offering. After a long moment he relented. ‘Okay, let’s get out of here. I’m sorry I scared you.’

‘It’s not your fault. I’m sorry for my reaction. Let’s just go.’

In silence they walked past the glass cases with their displays of dresses worn by empresses Catherine the Great, Anna Ioannovna and other famous tsarinas. They went down the grand staircase to collect their coats. Amelia was aware of a certain hesitation, even shyness between them now. She’d finally decided to trust him, but would he let her continue to rely on him, or had her trust come too late?

When they emerged into the afternoon air, Nick’s forgiving nature made her feel even guiltier when he carefully placed a hand under her arm and gently guided her over the icy cobblestones. It was an unexpected and generous gesture.

Wordlessly, they exited into Aleksandrovsky Gardens. Amelia shivered deeper into her coat.

‘Shall we go indoors, maybe have a coffee or that hot chocolate you suggested?’ Nick suggested.

‘Not yet.’ Despite the cold, Amelia headed to one of the many benches lining the pathways of the snow-covered gardens. ‘Let’s sit outside for a few minutes.’

None of the other benches were occupied and few people were out.

Nick came over and sat next to her, keeping a safe distance between them. He remained silent. What could he be thinking about her behaviour?

Snow on the ground stood in sharp contrast to the red wall that lay less than thirty metres away. A few chattering tourists, emerging after their guided Kremlin tours, supplied the only noise in the afternoon air.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said eventually, ‘about in there. I lost it, I don’t know why. So much has happened in the last few days. I’m overwrought, I guess. It makes me suspicious of everything and everyone. I don’t even know why I came to the Kremlin. I’ve been here so many times.’

‘It’s all right, Amelia, forget it,’ Nick replied and offered her a brief, tight smile.

‘You’re kind, generous. I’m not sure I would have been able to do the same had I been in your shoes.’

‘You’ve done pretty well so far. I guess I should be surprised that the demons have only started pestering you now.’

She glanced at him. ‘If only you knew,’ she said quietly.

‘Maybe you can tell me what’s in that envelope.’

She fingered the corners of the envelope she was still clutching. ‘I will, but not right away, if that’s okay.’ Then, neither wanting him to probe nor feel rebuffed, she touched his sleeve gently. ‘Come on, let’s go, it’s too bloody cold out here. I owe you far more than hot chocolate, but it’s a start.’

Their tread was lighter as they made their way back to the hotel. At Amelia’s suggestion, they decided to order their drinks from her room but talk in a small sitting area in the passage outside. Despite the new tone in their interaction, she still didn’t mention the reason to him: that she was afraid of being watched or listened to. As they rounded the corner of the passage that led to her room, she started looking for the room key.

‘Looks like someone left you a message,’ Nick, who was a few steps ahead, said. She looked up, immediately uneasy. And, as she knew she would, she saw it. This time there was no envelope, just a brightly coloured note folded into a neat triangle – just like before. As Nick reached out to retrieve the message, she took a step backwards.

18

N
ick caught up with her when she was already outside in the street, walking away from the hotel. She strode ahead, a cold dread spreading through her body.

‘Amelia!’ he panted next to her, ‘What on earth is wrong?’

She didn’t answer. All she could manage was to urge her legs to hurry forward, away from the hotel, away from the note and its message and especially away from the unknown person who’d left it for her.

Two blocks further she stopped, only because her limbs were no longer willing to obey her. She was shaking too much to continue moving. Trying to steady herself, she put out a hand against the marble-clad wall of one of the city centre’s renovated buildings. Her chest heaved uncomfortably and she feared she would lose all the self-control she’d clung to so tightly since her arrival in Moscow.

‘Amelia, what is it? Please, talk to me!’ Nick asked urgently, confusion and alarm clear on his face.

She shook her head, still unable to answer. For some reason, she couldn’t force air into her lungs.

Behind Nick pedestrians passed, not taking any notice, unaffected by her distress. Only a homeless man loitered a few metres away, his eager eyes weighing the possibility of profiting from their stop on the busy sidewalk. She met his stare head-on and after a brief hesitation he moved off.

‘What is it?’ Nick urged her again. He puffed little white clouds into the cold afternoon air.

She needed to get a grip. Take one deep breath. And then another. And another. At last her breathing slowed down. She looked up at him before her eyes fell to the piece of paper he was still holding in his hand. He followed her gaze and unfolded the bright triangle. Amelia watched his expression as he read the few words.

‘It says “
You’re still here”
.’ He read it aloud again and looked up at her. ‘Amelia, what is this?’

She started shaking again, began to speak, but struggled to find the words to offer some kind of coherent explanation to him.

He was quicker than she was, though. Enlightenment dawned in his eyes. ‘Someone’s been threatening you . . .’ He stared at her in alarm. ‘This isn’t the first one, is it?’

Mutely she shook her head. He exhaled heavily and something like anger flashed in his eyes. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ He was incensed. ‘Or at least someone?’

Someone she trusted?

‘I can’t believe you’ve told no one about this!’ Nick’s voice rose in exasperation.

Finally she found her voice. ‘And what would they have done? Tell me! How would that have helped?’ Her words came out more fiercely that she’d intended, but she couldn’t take them back. She took a few steps away, breathing hard.

Nick stared at her wordlessly.

‘I don’t know why I didn’t, okay?’

‘You didn’t trust anyone, did you?’

‘I didn’t want to alarm anyone. I thought maybe it was nothing, or empty, meaningless.’

‘Nothing? After all that’s happened to you? And especially after what happened to Robert?’ She felt like a child at the receiving end of an adult’s anger. Nick’s face was burning with annoyance. She was about to attack again – what do you know, how dare you and who do you think you are – but he cut her short with an urgency that preempted any justification she might have wanted to give him.

‘All right,’ he said, gripping her shoulders, no longer shy or careful about how he spoke to her, ‘this is what you’re going to do: go back to the hotel and check out immediately. Tell them you’re going to St Petersburg for a few days, that you’ve found a last-minute ticket, and do not, do not – under any circumstances – provide a new address. Give them any hotel name in St Petersburg if they insist. Pack your bags and get out. Make sure you leave nothing behind.’

He paused for a second, let go of her shoulders and then started scribbling on the other side of the note before he handed it to her. ‘Go to this address.’ He caught her expression. ‘It’s not my place. It should be safe, it’s a friend’s apartment.’

‘But what about—?’ Amelia started asking.

‘But what about what?’ he shot back at her. ‘Nothing apart from leaving is crucial right now, Amelia.’ Nick leaned closer, his eyes holding hers. When he spoke again, his voice was no longer fury-filled. ‘Please don’t resist me now. We will take care of any complications this might cause later. The only thing that is important now, is that you get out of that hotel.’ He rubbed his chin, and continued. ‘Don’t get an official taxi, take your bags, walk around the corner and flag down a gypsy cab. I will join you as soon as I can, but I’ll have to make a few arrangements first. I’m not sure how long I’ll be.’

‘But—’

‘Go!’ he urged again, looking deep into her eyes for a moment. ‘Go,’ he repeated more gently, and when she took the first step back to the dreaded hotel, she glanced over her shoulder and saw that he had already turned and was hurrying away in the opposite direction.

The unfamiliar building had to be approached through a courtyard. Snow was piled high everywhere, but a pathway had been cleared to a heavy steel external door which, she assumed, would lead to the apartments above. When she pulled on it, she discovered that it was locked. She rang the apartment number, but there was no answer. Alarmed she looked at the piece of paper again. It seemed to be the correct address, but Nick’s note held only a street address and apartment number. Helplessly she stared at the keypad next to the door. In his hurry, he must have forgotten to write down a door code, or at least something that would help her gain entry. What was she supposed to do now?

For a few uncertain moments, she wanted to panic, wanted to run back to the safety of a hotel, but the realisation that she would have to be registered in the system again, gave her pause. Hadn’t she decided to trust Nick just a few hours ago? She had to believe that her decision had been the right one and would act accordingly now. Still, it wasn’t a reassuring feeling to be so boxed in by the courtyard, the weather and the lack of options. Nick’s emphasis on not leaving a trail stopped her from ringing the other apartments in the building. No one could know where she was. There didn’t seem to be any other option but to wait for him.

She dragged her suitcase further along the wall into another doorway a few metres to the side of the main one. It looked like a delivery entrance that hadn’t been used in ages. If she waited here, she should be hidden from view, especially in the fading daylight. She pulled out a thick wool pashmina and wrapped it tightly around her coat before she sat down on her suitcase to wait.

Darkness came early and quickly and still there was no sign of Nick. Anxiety lay in a heavy knot in her chest. Where was he? No one had entered through the courtyard, but if they did, they wouldn’t see her, because she was half-hidden behind a mound of snow someone had made when they’d cleared the pathway to the door.

What was keeping him? Amelia flexed her toes and fingers continuously to keep them from going numb, but the cold was steadily creeping into her bones.

Snow started coming down half an hour later. Thick, white flakes fell fast and within a few minutes the path was covered again. Time seemed to slow down as she watched the snow fall. The fleeting thought that Nick might not show up, she left unexamined, unwilling to consider the possibility that she could now be more vulnerable than in the hotel.

It seemed like an eternity since she’d sat down in the doorway, and she’d almost reached the point where plan B would have become a necessity when she heard someone call out. Carefully she peered over the mound of snow. The tall figure and grey coat looked familiar.

‘Amelia!’ he called again. She scrambled to her feet. The thick layer of snow must have dampened the sound, because she hadn’t heard Nick’s footsteps approaching the main door that lay to her right.

‘There you are!’ She was disturbed by the relief on his face. Did he think she was in danger even in this quiet courtyard?

‘I thought for a second you weren’t here—’ he started to say and stopped as she pointed to the hidden doorway. ‘Good thinking,’ he said instead and handed her the packages he had in his hands before he walked over to get her luggage.

Within seconds he punched in a code and they were inside, making their way up the concrete stairs. The stairway was unlit and there was no lift, but they didn’t have far to go. A predictable whiff of boiled cabbage followed them as they ascended the stairs in silence. At the fourth and top floor were two doors. Nick stopped in front of the one at the far end of the landing.

The front door opened onto a short passage. After that, a kitchen lay to her immediate right, and in front of her was a lounge area. Beyond the lounge was a small bedroom which probably led to a bathroom. The place was sparsely furnished, but warm, thanks to the city’s powerful central heating system.

BOOK: East of the Sun
5.92Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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