Legacy (32 page)

‘I told you, beneath the water. It cannot be seen now.’

‘How far down?’

‘I had to go down several steps to climb onto it.’

Charles took off his shoes, socks and trousers. He was getting used to wet feet, of late. His pants were dark blue, so wouldn’t show up to people crossing either of the two nearest
bridges, but his legs had lost most of their summer tan. Holding the top of the river wall, he took three steps down the wooden stairs into the river. He had expected the water to be cold but was
unprepared for the strength of the still-rising tide, which pressed hungrily against his thighs. He felt along the wall with his left foot until he found the ledge. It was reasonably wide, about
half as wide as his foot was long, but there were no handholds and he had to work his fingers around the edges of crumbling bricks. Once he had both feet on the ledge and finger-holds for both
hands, he began to inch himself along. The rain fell steadily. ‘You know not what you are about to do for Queen and Country, gentlemen,’ Gerry would say at the start of exercises,
rubbing his hands.

By the time he had got beneath the platform the rain was hissing in the water and trickling from his hair down the back of his neck. The river was over half way up his thighs and twice he felt
that the current was about to take him. Gratifyingly, Viktor called out his name.

‘I’m here, on the ledge, beneath you,’ he called back. ‘Seeing if it’s still possible. Is this it, the drainpipe on the other side of your platform?’ The
large iron pipe felt reasonably firm, its heavy brackets protruding enough for a hand to be pushed between it and the wall.

‘There is only one. You are coming to join me?’

‘Certainly not. Just seeing if your route is still navigable. It is, but you’ll get soaked up to your thighs unless you take your trousers off and throw them back to me on the
steps.’

‘And if they don’t reach you I return to the Residency and say I have found the cache site but somehow I lost my trousers?’

Charles smiled in the darkness. ‘Actually, it’s better you do get them wet. The long grass would have soaked them and if you can say you slipped in a ditch, so much the better.
I’ll wait here if you can get back down the pipe. Hurry up. The river’s still rising.’

The drainpipe shifted under Viktor’s weight and a small shower of mortar fell on Charles’s head. Viktor came down hand over hand, knees bent and feet pressed flat against the wall.
The last few feet were a barely-controlled slide, ending just above the water. He wore corduroys and a jersey. Crouching, clutching the pipe, he looked at Charles and laughed. ‘What a
wonderful photograph. The famous SIS and the famous KGB working together again, as in the war. But SIS caught with its trousers down. Like the old days, Charles? How is the river?’

‘Wet.’

Viktor lowered one leg at a time, feeling for the ledge. ‘You are right. Imagine we are both drowned. What a mystery for the security people. Shall we swim back? We are wet enough with the
rain. Why not, Charles?’ He let go with one arm and made a swimming motion. For a moment it seemed he might take them both into the river.

‘Are all Russians mad?’ asked Charles.

‘All. But not enough Englishmen are mad. That is our tragedy and yours.’

Back on the river wall, Charles dressed. One of his socks fell into the river. They both reached for it and missed. ‘I hope you can claim for it on expenses,’ said Viktor. ‘If
I survive and we meet again I will pay you from KGB funds. We can afford it, I think.’

‘Better lose a sock than you, I guess. Were you serious up there? Seems rather an over-reaction to me.’

‘You have not seen what happens to people. You have no child. You are responsible only for yourself. Your life is easier, Charles. I was really considering it, for the reasons I told you.
And I still have to face them.’

The rain was steady and cold. They stood at the bottom of the brick steps, pressed against the wall while Charles explained his second idea. Viktor was sceptical, dismissive at first, eventually
conceding that it might help even though there would be no knowing for some time whether it had finally worked. Any distraction, anything to muddy the waters, was useful. ‘It is helpful that
they dislike each other,’ he said. ‘Krychkov is senior. He is old Stalinist. He resents the new generation. Rhykov is younger and cleverer and shows it, which means he is not really so
clever after all. He thinks Krychkov is stupid. He is right. Each would like to blame the other for anything but Krychkov has more influential friends, old Stalinists in senior places. And because
of his background, and because he is stupid, he is always suspicious. So you must point your finger at Rhykov.’

‘What else might they be doing here, apart from looking after you?’

‘I don’t know for sure but it is connected with Legacy. The Resident has called for the file and he discusses it with them. Not with me. I am left out of Legacy now. Except for my
surprising discovery tonight.’

‘Why do you think they became suspicious of you?’

Viktor shrugged. ‘Maybe I have been careless. Maybe someone saw me going to Chantal. Maybe someone just said something. It can be enough.’

When they had agreed tactics, Charles insisted Viktor leave first. Viktor smiled. ‘Still you don’t trust me. You think if I stay I might still jump into the river?’

‘Why didn’t you signal, if you felt you were in that much trouble? Defection is better than death, surely?’

‘You know, there was a murder in a provincial town in Russia. The head of the state farm was having a relationship with the wife of the district Party secretary. They killed him, the Party
secretary, so they could marry each other. But people became suspicious and they were arrested. At the trial they were asked, Why didn’t you just leave him, divorce, go to another town? Why
did you think the only way is to kill him? You know, they had no answer to that question. They had not thought of it. Divorcing and moving were not thinkable. It is the same for me with defection.
Suicide is more common in the KGB.’

‘Well, if what we’ve agreed works, you won’t have to consider either.’

‘If.’ Viktor held out his hand. ‘Good luck with Operation Compromise. I will not know you, I promise.’

‘But you will signal?’

‘Wait and see. Yes, Charles, I promise.’

Charles waited a minute or so after Viktor’s silhouette had disappeared from the end of the alleyway, then picked his way back. Rain dripped from the buildings and spattered in the
puddles. His shoe rubbed on his sockless foot. No one was in sight when he emerged. The slanting rain came now in blustery waves through the dim orange street lighting. He walked up to where Anna
had dropped him and saw Jim’s Saab in a side street on the other side of the road, facing him.

‘Looks like he’s on his way back to the embassy,’ Jim said through the half open window. ‘The other car’s on him. Thought we’d better hang about to see if
he’d done you in. You look wet. Not raining, is it?’

‘Sweat and sun-tan oil.’

‘Want a lift home?’

‘Thanks.’

‘Unless you’d prefer to go with your girlfriend. She’s still here – behind us, look.’ Anna’s Maxi was parked about twenty yards up the road. Jim grinned.
‘We won’t take offence. Think he’ll be out again tonight?’

‘No, you can knock off now. Thanks for calling me out. It was worth every minute.’

Jim started the engine. ‘Glad he didn’t top himself. We was praying he wouldn’t. If he had we’d’ve had to spend all night with the police.’

He waved them off and walked up to the Maxi. ‘You must be soaked,’ said Anna.

‘I’ll make your seat wet, I’m afraid.’

‘Me too if you stand there with the door open.’

He got in. ‘I didn’t expect you to wait. But I’m glad you did.’

‘It gives Hugo a chance to appreciate the joys of washing up. You’d better tell me where you live.’

He gave directions, not mentioning that Roger might still be there. That would stop them talking. He described the flat he was buying. ‘I’d rather you dropped me – that we went
– there. I’d like you to see it, if you’ve time. It’s empty and I’ve got the keys.’

‘As long as we’re not too long. But I still don’t see how you can pay for it without a job.’

‘I’ll go dishwashing, I guess.’

The hall light was out, the switch not easily found. He feared they might meet the lady with the eye-patch, then that the flat owner might have fallen out with his girlfriend and, for once, be
there. But everything was as he had left it. He showed her round, then opened the windows onto the balcony and stepped out. She leant against the door-frame, her arms folded beneath her breasts,
the sleeves of her jumper pushed up. The light caught her blonde hair. Her arms were slender. The rain had stopped but the plane trees were dripping.

‘Such beautiful scent after rain,’ she said, ‘even in London. Especially here, with this huge garden. You must buy it, no matter how many dishes it takes.’

He kept his distance, leaning against the balcony. ‘There’s a scene in
Anna Karenina
in which Karenin returns home and looks up to see Anna in an upper window, laughing and
talking to someone invisible behind her, her arms folded and – unusually – bare. Her bare arms are suggestive of freedom, sensuality, intimacy with whoever is behind her. Someone called
it the most erotic scene in all literature.’

‘I’d no idea you were such a romantic.’

‘Admittedly, Anna’s lover, Vronsky, didn’t do her much good.’

‘But you don’t want to be a Vronsky, do you, Charles? Wife of a colleague and all that? I know it goes on but you wouldn’t feel very good about it, would you?’

‘No, I don’t want to be a Vronsky. I wouldn’t feel good about it. But.’

‘And I’m not married to a Karenin. I’ve no excuse.’

She turned back into the sitting room and stood, arms still folded, facing him. He followed and put his hands on her shoulders. He could smell her hair now and feel her warmth beneath her
jersey. He kissed her on the lips. She neither resisted nor responded. ‘It’s no good, Charles, much as I’d like to,’ she said quietly, from beneath lowered eyelids. ‘I
have two children, my marriage is not a positive misery, even if it’s not much else. It couldn’t – we couldn’t – lead anywhere. You do see that, don’t
you?’ She looked up, but did not move away.

He nodded. This seemed far from the game-playing temptress Rebecca had warned him against. ‘No matter what we feel – might feel –?’

‘It’s easier for you to feel. There are fewer consequences, fewer costs than if I feel, if I allow myself to feel. Your life is simple. You have no children.’

‘That’s the second time someone’s said that to me this evening.’

She put one hand on his arm and stroked his cheek with the fingertips of the other. ‘I don’t mean that I wouldn’t – don’t – feel anything.’ She leant
forward and kissed him, then broke off abruptly. ‘I must, must go. How will you – d’you want me to –?’

‘I’ll walk. I need a walk.’

She paused at the door. ‘Perhaps, one day. When I let you do the washing-up. And when you’ve found your other sock.’

He listened to her footsteps fading on the stairs and, distantly, heard the front door close.

T
he next day Charles shaved and resumed his suit for a meeting with Hookey in Brooks’s. ‘More tactful to meet you here than in the
office,’ Hookey said. ‘MI5 are touchy about your resignation. Seem to doubt it for some reason.’ He grinned. ‘So it’s better you don’t pop in and out of the
office every day, especially my office which is mystifyingly construed as a nest of conspiracy and subversion. Then there’s Hugo. He’s increasingly convinced he’s being kept out
of something, unfortunately. Ought to know by now that this sort of thing happens all the time in the office. He could be indoctrinated into Legacy but the list is long enough already and he
doesn’t actually
have
to know, as things currently stand. We learned that lesson with Blake in Berlin. Saw all sorts of stuff he shouldn’t’ve just by casually asking one of
the girls if he could glance at what was being circulated “when everyone else is finished with it”. I might have to arrange a posting for Hugo, something to distract him. But
that’s my problem. What’s yours?’

Charles described what had happened, outlining his idea for what he called Operation Compromise. Hookey heard him out, then poured coffee. ‘And your friend agreed all this?’

‘Yes.’

‘I daresay in his state he would be more suggestible.’

‘You think it won’t work, then?’

Hookey raised his eyebrows. ‘No idea. It’s far-fetched, awkward to stage-manage, chancy, but that’s perhaps why it could work. Anyway, doesn’t matter what I think. The
die is cast, he’s gone back, doesn’t sound as if he’ll jump ship or jump anything else in the near future. All we can do is give it our best and stick with him. Now, I’ve a
little news for you.’

There was a change to the delegation’s itinerary. At the end of the week instead of London sightseeing as proposed, they wanted to go to King’s Lynn where Russian timber ships
regularly docked. ‘Can’t imagine they really want personally to convey fraternal greetings to their seamen, inspect dockyard facilities for their wretched ships and whatever, but so
they say. I’ve my own ideas about that. Anyway, permission’s been granted and they’re going by minibus tomorrow. Bloody long journey for a day trip, but they’re not taking
the train because they want to spend the night in Suffolk on their way back. Place called Southwold, on the coast. D’you know it? Where I was brought up. Doubt that that’s why
they’ve chosen it, but you never know. Then they drive down to Stansted at sparrow’s fart the next morning and fly home. I’ve discussed this with MI5, who’ve got a lot of
other demands on SV at the moment, and we wondered whether a change of plan on our part might be permissible for the last couple of days. I wanted your opinion.’

Charles’s signalling arrangements with Viktor were planned to culminate at the airport as the delegation left. There, contrary to every other day of the week, Viktor was to signal
positively that all was well rather than signal only if it wasn’t. His cue was to be the sight of Charles. This positive signalling arrangement had been criticised as unnecessary, possibly
inconvenient and therefore potentially dangerous by Hookey, but it was what Viktor had wanted.