Chapter 4

Still Yelka:

It was a lovely weekend. Lena and I took Yana, Daria and Sofia out in Nerina. They’d had some teaching in Nerina and the small dinghy, and we gave them some practice. Landed on Peel Island for a picnic, and were home again at tea-time.

We all sat at the kitchen table to eat Mama Sally’s lasagne. Papa Jerry produced a bottle of red wine; between the seven of us we weren’t going to get drunk! But a glass apiece suited the meal well.

At the end of the meal, Papa Jerry told me, “You need to ring the Lodge and speak to the Major. He’ll be expecting your call...” he glanced at his watch, “in about five minutes.”

I raised my eyebrows, but got nothing more. I knew I’d have to use the house phone – there still was no mobile signal in the valley – but there were cordless extensions all over the house.

“Use my study if you like,” he added with a meaning glance. Fair enough.

“Thanks.”

The phone rang a couple of times before being answered. “Yelena Smallbridge for the Major,” I told the receptionist.

“Just a moment,” Horrid, generic Muzak. Why do they do that?

“Yelka?”

“Yessir.”

“Thanks for ringing. You have a guest staying next door, I believe?”

Actually, we had a couple, but I just said, “Yessir, we do.”

“You have an assignment, Yelka. I want you to go and chat to your guest, get the background. You will then be meeting up with a couple I think you know, with a team, and helping them follow up on the problem. Keep your eyes and ears open and you may well learn something. You’ll be going to Burnley, but check in to a hotel in Padiham. I’ll email details. You need to be there Monday afternoon. Any problems?”

“No, sir.”

“Good. I’m sure you’ll be a credit to the company. Enjoy the rest of the weekend.”

“Thank you, sir.” Click. I left Papa Jerry’s study and went to the lounge, joining the rest of my family. I caught Papa’s eye and he smiled.

“Interesting conversation?”

I walked over and sat in his lap, then snuggled in. “I’ll be here a little longer. I need to go to Burnley on Monday.”

He nodded. “I think I know why, but not for sure.”

“I need to go and chat to Stasia tomorrow.”

“Uh huh.” He squeezed me. “Fancy a beer?”

“Yes, please.” I slipped off his lap.

“Anyone else?” Heads shaking all round. “Come along, then.”

I followed him down into the cellars and chose a bottle of dark beer. “Good choice,” he said. “I’ll have the same.” He picked up four bottles. Four? He looked at me and grinned. “Two each,” he explained. Then frowned. “Yelka ... we love you. We’re proud of what you’re growing up to be.” He hesitated, but went on, “Please be careful. Prior planning prevents piss-poor performance. We don’t want to lose you.”

What? I thought about his words. Ah, yes. Plan ahead. “I’ll be careful, Papa. There are always risks, though.”

He just nodded, and we made our way back to the lounge and opened the first two bottles.

Sofia is getting pretty good with that piano. Scott Joplin, Beethoven, Debussy. Two bottles each of the beer, nearly two pints. My head was buzzing just a little as I made my way to bed, there to snuggle with my sister and sleep really well.

Breakfast. When I got up I ran with Lena and we showered together before arriving at the kitchen table. Papa Jerry was already sitting there with a mug of coffee in front of him, and Yana, Sofia and Daria arranged around the table with mugs of tea. Mama Sally was, as usual, bustling around the kitchen. Although Lena still preferred tea, I’d got used to coffee – black coffee, the way Papa Jerry liked it – and Mama Sally placed a full mug in front of me with a smile.

“Thank you, Mama.”

“Full English?”

“Yes, please.”

Lena and I, and Papa Jerry, had plates piled with cooked bacon, sausages, scrambled eggs, beans and fried bread – Papa Jerry’s being much larger – placed in front of us. The other girls had cereal and toast. As soon as we were all settled, Mama Sally took her usual place kneeling beside Papa Jerry. I love to watch him feeding her. The love between them is so obvious. Mama’s cooking is so good I didn’t hurry, but I still finished before them. Lena and I left the table, not without a kiss for both our adoptive parents, and went to clean our teeth.

Regretfully I had to go next door alone. Lena did understand. The gate between the two properties has a sophisticated digital lock, and I carefully punched in the correct code to unlock it and tell the residents I was a friend and unforced.

Betty Braithwaite, the housekeeper, was busy in the kitchen. Clearly everyone had been and gone.

“Hello, Yelka! Coffee?”

“I’ve just had some, thanks. Perhaps in a little while?”

“Any time. You’re after Stasia?”

“That’s right.”

“She’s studying just now, in her room. Go on up.”

I tapped on the door. Slight delay before I heard, “Come in.”

Stasia was sitting at a desk with a text-book in front of her. “Sorry about the wait,” she said, “I was deep in European history.”

“No problem. Look, I’m supposed to talk to you about your ... experiences.”

She nodded with a serious expression. “You’ve been through the same, haven’t you?”

“Pretty much. It’s going to be tough for you, I think. I’d like to talk in Russian, to make sure I get every nuance.”

She sighed. “Yeah. But I want to help. I want to eliminate those ... pigs.”

So we started. At first, it was not too bad. Half an hour in, a tap on the door indicated the arrival of a mid-morning snack – coffee for me and tea for Stasia, with coffee-cake for both of us – and we relaxed over that. But we had to get back to the pain, and we wept together as she tried to give me every detail of her experience.

Another break for lunch – salad sandwiches – and it was back to the grindstone, so to speak. By six o’clock we were both wrung out, and ready to give up for the evening. Betty insisted I stay for supper. Bill and Betty at each end of the table, Jack and Anna, Irene and her little girl in a high chair on one side and Stasia and I on the other. Betty’s almost as good a cook as Mama Sally.

I walked slowly, processing what I’d heard, back to Woodside Lodge in the gloom. Lena met me with a hug. Hugs are healing, you know. Healing and comforting. To bed, to sleep. Deep, restoring sleep. And dreams. Dreams are supposed to help you process your problems.

Run before breakfast. Slower than usual because we had company. Yana, Daria and Sofia all decided to raise their level of fitness and they’d been running with Lena. So it was four miles in about the same time. Showers, breakfast. Then on board Oscar for the ride to Burnley. I avoided the motorway as usual. It was about sixty-five miles, and I was riding for two hours. One brief break to stretch my legs, and I rolled up at the hotel just before one o’clock.

The receptionist looked askance at my helmet and gear, but accepted the reservation. I checked in and went to my room to change. By the time I had done, I was too late for a cooked meal, but had a baguette with cheese and salad in the bar, washed down with beer. I was still there when I heard familiar voices. I wandered out to reception and saw Alex Smith and Zoe. “Doctor Alex!”

He turned and smiled, and Zoe came to me for a hug. “Lovely to see you again, Yelka. It’s been too long.”

“Yes. Great to see you, Zoe. And Alex, of course.”

Alex laughed. “I can see where your priorities lie, Yelka.”

I suppose I must have smirked. “I don’t pursue married men, Alex, no matter how attractive they may be.”

He became serious. “I know, Yelka. The others should be here soon.”

“I’ll let you settle in.”

I went out for a walk. It was just a couple of hundred yards to the River Calder, where I watched the ubiquitous Mallard ducks, a couple of Mute Swans, and a pair of Mandarin ducks, the drake spectacular in his striking plumage, the female less so, but elegant. Nearby, the Memorial Park. I indulged in an ice-cream from a vendor by the entrance, and consumed it on my way back to the hotel. A note was waiting for me in reception; I opened it to find, ‘Meet 7.30 in the dining room. Zoe.’