The Russian Affair - By Michael Wallner Page 0,124
with Alexey, but Anton was still picking her up and bringing her to her unflappable lover.
“As punctual as clockwork,” Anton said in his melodious voice.
“I’ve never said this to you, but you would have made a first-rate singer.” She had her heart on her sleeve.
“To be honest, Comrade, I’ve done that.” He turned around and drove onto the crepuscular boulevard.
“You’re a singer, Anton? Really?” She laid her arm along the top of the seat, almost touching his shoulder.
“Once upon a time.”
“In a chorus?”
“It was a provincial troupe. We brought a quite respectable performance of Boris Godunov to the stage. I was Boris.”
“Anton, I’m amazed!” She tried to picture the inconspicuous, always clean-shaven man costumed as the imposing, bearded Godunov. “Why did you give it up?”
“There were several reasons …” He looked at her in the rearview mirror. “And I’d rather not talk about any of them.”
Anna took the lipstick out of her purse, re-reddened her lips with the help of her reflection in the window, and pushed her hair behind her ears. There she was, being driven to her Arctic wolf, as happy and excited as if she hadn’t told him, not a very long time ago, that it was all over. “Where are we going?” Anna asked, closing her purse.
“I was sworn to silence on that subject.” Anton drove a short distance along the Smolensk Quay, avoided Kalinin Prospekt, and took the Garden Ring to Mayakovsky Square; on the left and on the right, Gorky Street glittered. He stopped in front of a building that Anna knew only by name and accompanied her inside. They crossed an elegant beige foyer. The staff of the Peking Hotel nodded to Anton as he accompanied Anna to the elevator, pressed the button for the top floor, and stepped back. The doors closed on his friendly face and moments later opened on an elegantly furnished vestibule. In the reflection of a gold-framed mirror, Anna saw Bulyagkov coming toward her. He was wearing a three-piece suit of dark wool that made him look thinner. Before either spoke the first word, Alexey embraced the painter, and they stood for a while in the little foyer with their arms around each other.
“Where are we?” She wiped lipstick from the corner of his mouth.
“Through a piece of especially good luck, I got the tower.”
“The tower?” She let him lead her inside and stood before the most beautiful view she’d ever seen. Not far away, she recognized the tall buildings of MSU, the Moscow State University; Gorky Street was like a long wedge of light. Anna could see the Kremlin, with its glowing red star, and behind it the narrow streets where old wooden buildings pressed close to one another.
“Usually, this is a privilege granted only to the inner circle,” Alexey said. “Or to foreign guests of the State.”
“How wonderful,” Anna said, embracing him a second time.
“People will think we’re still a couple. The food in the Peking is supposed to be very respectable indeed.” He tried to draw her into the dining niche, where a light meal awaited them.
“I don’t want to eat now,” she said, standing her ground. “I’d like to enjoy the moment.”
“And might your enjoyment be enhanced by a little something to drink?” He pointed to a battery of bottles. “Even I don’t know what some of this stuff is,” he said, picking up a bottle at random. “You sounded so urgent on the telephone.” He turned around. “Why?”
“Leonid left me.”
It was so easy to say that, without tears, without loading the sentence with unhappiness. Alexey, however, seemed much shaken and inattentively set down the unopened bottle, which fell over onto the plush carpet but did not break. “But how can he … it’s impossible,” was all he managed to say.
“A whole year of separation is a long time.” She found it amusing that she had to break the news gently to him. “There are beautiful women in Siberia, too.”
“Siberia? I thought it was Sakhalin.”
She told him about Leonid’s furlough and his cowardly refusal to tell her the truth to her face.
“Wasn’t he supposed to be granted his right of abode in Moscow this year?”
“Apparently, there are charms that can compete with that.” Anna was pleased to think that she appeared strong and relaxed, while the news was having an amazingly strong effect on Alexey.
“I can only tell you how sorry I am,” he said. He picked up the fallen bottle.