The Concubine's Secret Part 58

'Chang An Lo?' Lydia turned her head and found him there at her side, sitting on the bed. His expression was one she'd never seen before.

'Was I dying?' she whispered.

He lifted her hand to his lips, kissed her palm and then each finger, and held it to his cheek. 'No, my Lydia.' He gave her a smile. It was so full of a heat she could feel on her skin, it melted something cold and frightened within her. 'You weren't dying. You are indestructible. You were just testing me.'

His voice filled her head. He bent forward, still holding her hand as if it were part of himself, and rested his forehead in the curve of her neck. He remained like that for a long time, without moving, without speaking. His black hair grew warm under her cheek and she felt the thread that bound them together tighten as it spun a silken strand through their flesh and blood and bone.

'Chang An Lo,' she murmured and saw a glossy lock of his hair ripple with her breath, 'if ever you die, I promise I'll come and find you.'

The room was too full of people. White hot sparks seemed to flicker in the air, stirring it into constant motion. Lydia was sitting up in bed when all she wanted to do was slide back into that black hole. They had told her about Jens.

She'd screamed 'No!' Then silenced herself. Crushed the pain into a hard ball.

She pictured him among the ruins of his grand dreams, his proud white head smashed to the ground by his own hand in the ultimate sacrifice. No, Papa No, Papa. The tears escaped down her cheeks and wouldn't stop. When she tried to wipe them away she saw her hand for the first time and it was burned an ugly red and covered in slimy ointment.

'It's disgusting,' she murmured as she stared at it.

Someone laughed and she knew it was with relief because a burned hand was so much better than a burned life. But Lydia wasn't talking about her hand. It was her failure. That was disgusting. Papa, I'm sorry. Forgive me Papa, I'm sorry. Forgive me. Black dots fluttered on the edge of her vision and she had the sick feeling they were pieces of the black hole that had followed her, biding their time. She struggled to see straight. There were words she had to say.

'I want to thank you, all of you,' she said. 'For your help.' Her voice was raspy, scarcely recognisable as her own.

'We almost did it.' It was Alexei.

'Jens was grateful,' she whispered. 'He told me so.' Jens' words surfaced from the black pool of memory, and Lydia knew in that instant that Alexei wasn't - and never had been - her brother.

Popkov was looking wretched, playing cards with Edik on the other bed while Misty lay on the pillow and chewed one of Popkov's stinking socks.

'You found each other,' the Cossack growled. 'At the end you and Jens were together.' He threw down his hand of cards in defeat and shrugged his huge shoulders. 'That's what matters.' He shuffled the cards.

Lydia nodded. Couldn't speak.

Alexei stopped at the end of her bed. 'He's right, Lydia. To have you there would have meant everything to him.'

'And to me,' she murmured. 'But I was too late to stop him. He chose to destroy what he'd started, at whatever cost, to save other prisoners.'

Alexei s.h.i.+fted uneasily and she could feel his frustration and the depth of his need. She had to give him something. 'Alexei, he loved you,' she said simply. 'Jens told me. When he was on my back, he was worried for you.'

Alexei's green eyes, so like her father's, stared directly at her and she could see he didn't know whether to believe her or not. But she was too exhausted to fight him and closed her eyes.

'I want to speak to Elena,' she said in a whisper. 'Alone.'

There was an awkward silence. But when she opened her eyes again the air in the room had settled like dust, empty except for the imprint of Chang's lips on her forehead and the big woman seated on the end of her bed.

Chang was uneasy in the courtyard. It was too public, too visible. Anyone behind the windows would report the presence of a stranger, particularly a Chinese stranger. He was meant to be viewing a bicycle factory, but had sent Edik with a message to Biao to tell the Russians he was unwell. It was the truth. He was sick. His heart was so sick he could vomit it up on to the courtyard cobblestones beneath his feet.

'Chang,' Alexei said, 'I'm glad to have this moment to speak with you.'

Till now they hadn't spoken. He turned and inspected Alexei. Lydia's brother was a tall man in his long coat, proud like his father but as complex as his sister. There was no doubt that he was a man of courage and decision, for Chang had seen both in abundance at the fire amidst all the terror and confusion. Yet at the same time . . . he could sense in him the kind of sorrow that could take several lifetimes to heal.

'Each of us,' Chang said quietly, 'has our own history.'

Alexei frowned. 'I'm not here to discuss history.'

'So what shall we discuss instead?'

'Lydia, of course. What else would you and I have to speak about?'

Chang smiled and felt the snow soft on his face. 'We could speak about life. About death. Or about the future.' He placed his hands together and bowed formally over them. 'I wish to thank you, Alexei Serov, for saving my life at the fire. I am in your debt.'

'No debt. No debt at all. You saved my sister's life. That is enough.'

Chang inclined his head in the faintest of bows. That is enough That is enough. The words were true. If Lydia had not been on Chang's back, this Russian would have left him to burn. They both knew that.

A young woman hurried out of the building into the courtyard, a bucket in each hand, and glanced at the two strangers with open curiosity as she crossed towards the water pump. The only sound was the laughter of Lydia's stray pale-haired boy on the other side of the yard with the Cossack. Chang and Alexei listened for a moment to the laughter, both willing it to last longer in the cold, echoing air.

'About Lydia,' Alexei said suddenly.

Chang waited, watching the boy. He could sense the brother deliberating as to how to start.

'It won't work, the two of you,' Alexei said flatly. 'It's impossible to make it work, the barriers are too high. If you care for my sister at all, you'll give her up and leave Russia. Let her stay with her own people. For G.o.d's sake, can't you see? You and she are oil and water, you cannot mix.' His voice was growing softer, lower, more intense. 'If you love her, Chang An Lo, really love her, let her have her own life. With you her future will always be as an outsider, wherever she is.'

Slowly Chang turned his head and fixed his gaze on the dark green eyes. Again the boy's laughter crossed the courtyard but this time neither of them heard it.

'You understand me?'

'What Lydia and I decide to do is none of your business,' Chang said coldly.

'She's my sister, d.a.m.n it, that makes it my business.' Anger flared and Chang knew it had been there all along, lying in wait. 'You took Lydia over the wall. For G.o.d's sake, why did you take her with you to search for Jens in the hangar? You almost killed my sister. How can I ever trust you? Do you expect me just to forget and forgive such a-'

'No.' Chang felt the pain twist deep in his gut, sharper than a heated knife. 'No, I don't. No more than I can forgive myself.'

'Well?' Elena asked, resting her arms on top of her bosom. Her eyes had shrunk to wary points.

'You know what I'm going to say.'

'How could I possibly know what goes on in that crazy head of yours?'

Lydia smiled. Everything hurt and she badly wanted to sleep, but she had to say this. 'First I want to thank you, Elena.'

'For what?'

'For taking the bullet out of me.'

The woman shrugged. 'I've had plenty of practice.'

'Thanks anyway.' She hesitated.

'What else?'

Lydia took a shallow breath. 'I want to know why you betrayed me.'

'What?'

'Both times that Alexei and I went into the forest the soldiers knew we were coming. They sent in stalkers to track us and would have caught us if Chang hadn't been watching our backs. The second time there was an extra car to guard the truck convoy.'

Elena sat very still. 'You are mistaken, comrade.'

'The only people who knew what we were doing were the vory vory and Chang, Popkov and myself. And you.' and Chang, Popkov and myself. And you.'

'Any one of those thieves would sell you to the secret police as soon as slit his grandmother's throat.'

'No, you're wrong. They do as Maksim tells them and he is besotted with my brother, so would let them do nothing to harm him. The others I'd trust with my life.' She leaned forward. 'So that leaves you.'

'No.'

'Don't lie to me, Elena.' The gaps between her words grew longer. 'We both know it was you.'

'If I said yes,' Elena muttered, 'what difference would it make?'

'It might to Liev.'

Elena gave her a long, hard look. 'Haven't you hurt him enough? Leave him in peace now.'

'Is that why you did it? To rid him of me?'

Elena sighed. 'Girl, when I first met you I thought you and I could be friends, but in the end I saw clearly that you weren't good for Liev. How can he have his own life when he is always living yours?'

'I didn't ask him to.'

'No, you didn't have to. It's in his blood, bred to belong to someone like in the old Russian serf system. Like his father before him. As devoted to you as Misty is to Edik, and if you needed him to perform tricks for you, he wouldn't think twice before doing them.' She exhaled slowly, but there was a sorrowful note in her voice when she said, 'I had to get rid of you, Lydia. For Liev's sake.'

Lydia swallowed the bile that had risen to her mouth. 'You could have just asked me to go,' she said quietly.

'He'd never have let you.'

Lydia nodded. Guilt, smooth and slippery, oiled her throat.

'So you betrayed me to protect your Cossack. Does he know?'

Colour rose to Elena's plump cheeks and she gripped both hands together on top of her head, flattening her shapeless hair. 'No,' she muttered. 'Are you going to tell him?'

'No.'

The woman nodded, shrugged her heavy shoulders and walked over to the window where she stood looking out. In a thick voice she added, 'What you did for your father was wonderful.'

Lydia let her face drop into her hands. 'He still died. I could-n't save him.'

'Maybe. But he knew what you did for him.'

'I couldn't save my mother either,' she whispered through her fingers.

'I know. You aren't any better than I am at keeping your loved ones safe.' She added, 'Come over here.'

Lydia eased herself carefully off the thin mattress and joined Elena at the window. She was surprised to find it was snowing outside, not heavily, just a feathery dusting of flakes that drifted through the air and made the world look gentle. They stood in silence, side by side, watching the men in the courtyard below. Chang and Alexei were standing stiffly together, talking quietly, and she wondered what they were discussing. The fire? The weather? The latest church to be blown up on Stalin's orders? Maybe her? They had their backs to the window so she couldn't see their faces, but her eyes lingered on the firm line of Chang's shoulders and on the tension in his long limbs. A young woman from one of the apartments was breaking ice from the courtyard water pump and stopped for a moment, a smile on her face, to watch the antics of Misty.

Popkov had tied a length of string around the dog's neck and was teaching her to walk at Edik's heel. Lydia hadn't realised before how good he was with dogs, but neither had she realised how tired he looked. She felt a rush of tenderness for the big man who had brought her father so close to freedom, only to have him s.n.a.t.c.hed away at the final moment. Oh Liev, my friend, I'm sorry if I asked too much. Even from here I can see it has taken something out of you.

A slow sigh escaped from the woman at her side, misting the gla.s.s and blurring the picture of the boy and his dog.

'He's asked me to go to live in the Ukraine with him.'

Lydia's eyes darted to Elena's face. 'The Ukraine?'

'Somewhere near Kiev. It's where he grew up as a boy.'

'Was Liev ever a boy?'

Elena smiled for a fleeting moment. 'It's hard to imagine.'

'Are you going?'

Elena watched Popkov, the way he leaned over the tiny puppy and spoke gently to it. 'He's worried about you.'

'He needn't be.'

'I know.'

'Do you love him?'

'Hah! By the time you reach my age and have known more men than hot dinners, love is no longer what you think it is, Lydia.'

'But do you love him?' Lydia persisted.

There was a pause and Lydia wiped the window with her hand. The Ukraine The Ukraine. Oh Liev, half a world away.

'Yes,' Elena admitted at last. 'I suppose I love the dumb oaf.'