‘It’s too soon.’

‘For goodness’ sake, go to him,’ Claudia said. ‘You are free, Robert’s gone and he had been playing you false, so you go to Alex. You deserve some happiness after all you’ve been through.’

‘I’ll think about it.’

‘No. You’ll get in your car and go now.’ She stood up and took the cup and saucer from her. ‘You don’t have to tell Bobby and Tatty yet.’

What Claudia was advising was so close to her own desires, she wavered. It wouldn’t hurt anyone, would it? Just to go to him, see how he was, let him know that if he still wanted her, she might, sometime in the future… Somehow she found herself out on the pavement and Claudia was waving her goodbye from the door. She dithered more than once on the way home, but her car was standing in the drive and it was full of petrol. She got in and drove to Northacre Green, eager and yet half-afraid.

Twice on the way she pulled into a lay-by and sat undecided whether to go on. It was not her feelings she doubted, but her sense of right and wrong, her scruples. She had betrayed Robert; would going on betray Bobby and Tatty? How could she do this to them so soon after their father’s tragic death? Going on would be making a commitment. It would change everything; she would not, could not keep it a secret. Where would it lead? To strife with her children? Was she ready for that? She almost turned back, but then she remembered what it was like to be in Alex’s arms and the enticement of that was too much to resist. She drove on.

The gate to the smallholding was wide open. She turned in, stopped the engine and sat a minute to still her fastbeating heart. Supposing he was out, should she wait or go home? Supposing he no longer cared. It had been so long… The door of the cottage opened and he stood on the threshold, waiting for her, as he had always waited for her, and simply opened his arms. She scrambled from the car and ran into them and was enfolded.

The sheer ecstasy of their reunion told her all she wanted to know. The years rolled away and they were young again, making love, talking non-stop, laughing at each other’s jokes, drinking wine and tea and making love all over again. Only later, when they had both calmed down and they were sitting at the kitchen table over a cup of coffee, did he tell her about the letter. ‘Do you believe in fate, Lidushka?’ he asked.

She laughed. ‘You mean, “There’s a divinity that shapes our ends, rough-hew them how we will”?’ She paused to consider. ‘Yes, I suppose I must, after all that’s happened to us. Why do you ask?’

‘Because when you arrived, I was debating whether to write to you or come over and see you, and here you are, saving me from having to make the decision.’

‘Why were you thinking it today especially?’

‘Oh, don’t think I haven’t had that same debate every day since I learnt of Robert’s death. But today there was a special reason. Do you remember me speaking of my friend, Leonid Orlov?’

‘Yes, he helped you when you came out of Siberia.’

‘I received a letter from him today. Goodness’ knows how he managed it but it came via the diplomatic bag. It’s amazing the number of pies he’s got his fingers in. It enclosed a letter for you from Yuri.’

‘Yuri!’

‘Yes. It’s sitting up there.’ He nodded towards the mantelpiece where an envelope was propped against the clock.

She jumped to her feet and snatched it up. He watched as she slit it open and read it, quickly the first time, then more slowly. ‘Olga’s dead,’ she said. ‘She confessed the truth before she died. He says he found it hard to believe, but he wants me to write to him. He wants the story from me. Oh, Alex!’ Tears blinded her and she could not read anymore. She groped for his hand and he took it and squeezed it.

He remained silent while she recovered herself and read the letter again. ‘Why did it come through your friend?’

‘Leo has kept an eye on Yuri, watched over his development and made sure he fulfilled his potential. It was to Leo Yuri turned after Olga made her revelation, and I suppose he confirmed the truth of what she had said. I imagine he was one angry young man.’

‘I would be angry too, except that I’m too happy. Oh, Alex, I must write to him at once.’

‘Wouldn’t you rather go and see him?’

She stared at him. ‘Alex, you can’t mean it.’

‘Leo thinks it’s possible. You have to be invited through official channels but Leo says he can manage that. Things are a lot easier since Stalin’s death. Relations with the West are thawing, thanks to Khrushchev, who has opened up international trade and cultural contacts never allowed before. There is to be a trade conference at the beginning of February in Kiev and Leo says he can invite me onto that as an agriculturist, with Foreign Office approval at this end. I think I can wangle that. Leo suggests I put you down as my personal assistant.’

‘But I know nothing about being a PA.’

‘Doesn’t matter. I don’t know much about agriculture. Are you on?’

‘But won’t you be arrested?’

‘I don’t see why I should be. I’m Alex Peters, it says so on my British passport. And you are Lydia Conway, also a British subject. Of course, we shall be given a minder, set to watch what we are up to, but we should be able to give him or her the slip with Leo’s help, so what do you say?’

‘Oh, Alex, need you ask? But Bobby and Tatty…’

‘They’ll be back at college by then.’

‘I know, but I’d have to tell them why I’m going and that means…’

‘Telling them about me,’ he finished for her.

‘Yes.’

‘Can’t you?’ He was searching her face and she feared to hurt him.

‘They know about you because your pictures are in the family album. They were told you were a family friend who had died in the war. I wish I had realised then how much I really loved you, I would never have married Kolya.’

‘Then your life would have been very different. You would not have had Yuri.’

‘That’s what Tatty said once, when I said I should not have let you persuade me to leave Russia; she said then I would not have married her father and she and Bobby would never have been born. I cannot regret that, Alex.’

‘Of course not.’ He paused. ‘We were talking about introducing me to your children.’

It was what had been worrying her all along. Could she? How would they react? ‘They loved their father…’

‘Of course they did, but they are grown-up now and making their own way. I doubt if they’ll live at home again and you are entitled to make a new life for yourself.’

He was right, but it still felt like a betrayal. But if she and Alex were to have a future together without secrecy, then it had to be done. ‘Would you like to spend Christmas with us?’ she said. ‘As a family friend who was thought to be dead but has suddenly turned up again, I mean.’

He grinned. ‘Family friend is a start, I suppose.’ He knew Lydia would not marry him in anything like a hurry. He would have to court her slowly, taking her out, joining in family occasions as she thought fit, getting to know Bobby and Tatty, treading on eggshells. But he would wear her down in the end.

‘You know I can’t tell them anything else. Not yet. Come in time to go to church with us on Christmas morning at ten-thirty. I’ll prepare the ground.’ She laughed suddenly. ‘I can’t believe I’m saying this.’

He stood up and took the coffee cups to the sink and ran water into them. ‘Shall we go for a walk?’

They walked and ate and then she said she ought to go home. He helped her on with her coat, wrapping it about her from behind so that she was almost in his arms. ‘Don’t go.’ His voice murmuring in her ear was so close his warm breath made her shiver and sent seductive messages to the very core of her, demanding to be answered. ‘You haven’t got anything to go home for, have you?’

She squirmed round to face him. ‘There’s all sorts of things…’

‘But none that can’t wait, surely?’

So she stayed, and the next morning she drove back to Upstone Hall, a very different woman from the one who had left it. She was rejuvenated, gloriously and ecstatically happy, except for one thing. Telling Bobby and Tatty there would be a guest for Christmas, unsure how they would react.

And then, when it came to it, she found it easier than she expected. Both Bobby and Tatty wanted to invite a friend and there would be six of them. Bobby had a girlfriend called Eva and Tatty’s boyfriend was Andrew. Lydia could not help it, she laughed until the tears ran down her face.

‘Mum, what’s the matter?’ Tatty asked.

‘Nothing. It’s strange the way things happen. I wasn’t sure how you would feel about adding to our threesome…’

‘And we were thinking the same,’ Bobby said. ‘We knew Christmas wouldn’t be the same without Dad and so we thought it ought to be totally different.’

‘How clever and thoughtful of you both.’

‘How did you find out that Alex hadn’t died?’ Tatty asked.

‘He was your father’s friend as well as mine and Grandpa’s, you know. He saw the announcement of his funeral and wrote to offer condolences. I answered and that was it. He had a terrible time during the war and afterwards, but no doubt he’ll tell you that himself. But the amazing thing is that he’s found Yuri for me. I’ve had a letter from him.’

‘Oh, Mum!’ Tatty said, remembering the pile of letters and pictures in the attic which she had never divulged seeing. Some things were becoming clearer. ‘How fantastic!’


In the event, there were eight people gathered for Christmas dinner, which was eaten at one o’clock after everyone had been to church: Lydia, Alex, Bob and Eva, Tatty and Andrew, Claudia and Reggie. It was noisy and argumentative in a cheerful way. Lydia, listening to them, smiled to herself. They hadn’t done too badly, this little family of hers. Bob and Eva were so obviously in love, she didn’t think it would be long before they became engaged. She didn’t think Tatty’s heart was engaged but that was a good thing; she was still very young. She liked Andrew, though. He was a little older than Bobby, self-assured and undoubtedly well off, not to mention good-looking. As for Alex, dearest Alex, he was putting on a tremendous act, making her feel guilty that she asked it of him. But Bobby and Tatty liked him, she could tell, and from that fragile beginning, she hoped they might come to accept him as their mother’s lover.