Isabella was silent awhile. The river ran on.
“And yet, Dad, there are some lies still, even in what you’ve just said. Because you did have the bills paid, you did have security. Okay, we never had much money, I know that, but—”
“Some lies too.” Nicholas interrupted her quietly. “Always some lies. The salt.”
“But in fact,” Isabella continued, ignoring him, “you never had to worry about feeding or clothing your children. Our true father saw to that. If we’d only known the real reason he was giving you money. We both thought he was just being a nice grandpa! Christ, did you ever have any of your own, Dad? Was it all his? I bet Mum paid for our summer holidays with the money she earned. But how did you fund all those trips abroad that none of us went on?”
Nicholas said nothing. And suddenly she was empty and tired and she wanted desperately to leave him. To go, swiftly, directly. To Russia. She turned away. “Do you have anyone? Apart from Alessandro.”
“I have lots of friends here.”
“You know what I mean.”
“There is a woman—Chloe—whom I would like you to meet…” He hesitated. “If we are to become friends again.”
“Is that what you want?” she asked. She felt his eyes on the side of her face.
“I would like it if we could see each other from time to time. Continue this conversation.”
“I don’t know if I can ever have this conversation with you again. I’m sorry, Dad.” She looked at him again but could not meet his eyes anymore. “You’re right. I am your daughter. Maybe not born but made so. And I can’t suddenly be your friend and… and everything. Not just like that.”
“I do not expect anything to be quick. But let’s at least admit that we find each other interesting company, if nothing more.” He tapped his cane. “Where are you staying?”
“No. I am not staying. I’m going home this evening. Back to London with Gabriel.”
“What about Christmas?”
“We are ignoring Christmas. We are going to Petersburg. We’ll have Russian Christmas in January.”
She stood.
Nicholas nodded slowly. “Your mother’s flat is paid for and empty until the summer, if you wish to stay there.”
“I’m not sure.”
“And what about you, Isabella, what do you want?”
“I want what Mum wanted. I want you to pay for the course for Arkady. I want you to write me a check for the full amount now. You can give it to me with the letter when we go back. Then I want you to set up a fund so that he gets enough to live on for the next ten years. If you don’t have enough, then you must sell the Highgate house and do it with that money.”
“Is he any good, this Arkady?”
“I don’t know.”
Nicholas held up his arms, asking to be pulled up. “You don’t know?”
She had no choice but to help him to his feet. “I haven’t heard him play.”
53
The Smolensky
I am going.” Arkady spoke suddenly from behind them.
They had left him only five minutes. They themselves were still looking, scraping off the snow and trying to read the names. Gabriel turned.
The Russian stayed back on the shoveled path. “Thank you,” he said. “For showing me the place. It is a coincidence—I came through here many times.”
Isabella straightened and tried to smile, but it felt like her skin was frozen and cracking, even deep inside her rabbit-fur hat.
“So. It’s cold, no?” There was a trace of humor in Arkady’s voice.
“Yes,” Isabella said. “Properly cold.”
“How long will you be?” He indicated their work.
They had uncovered a dozen names between them. There was only four hours of light per day. Barely that. An hour or so left. And though Isabella had brought a flashlight, neither wanted to spend any time out here in the darkness.
“Not too long.” Gabriel stopped and stamped his feet. The snow fell in wedges from his soles. “We know it is one of these. We will do a few more. Come back tomorrow if we don’t find it.”
Arkady nodded in the manner of someone trying to be polite while urgently required elsewhere.
Gabriel squeezed his nose, which was starting to freeze. “Then Yana is going to take us straight to Cosmonaut, if you want to come.”
They had all driven out to the Smolensky together in Yana’s wreck.
“Some people we know will be there,” Isabella added. “It will be fun. Bring your friends. Bring Henry.”
“No. I…”
“Or come down later.” Gabriel grinned. “I promise I won’t buy you a drink.”
“No. Thank you.” Arkady looked up. A flock of black birds was flying across the white page of the sky like an ever-changing bar of music. “I need to practice. I need very much to practice.”
Isabella spoke from deep within her hat. “You are going back to play Mum’s piano?”
“Yes. I am going to play this piano.”
“That’s great.” Isabella spoke excitedly.
“The spare keys are stiff, but they do work,” Gabriel said. “You remember the combination to the main gate?”
“Yes.” Arkady nodded. Then, his voice matter-of-fact, he added, “You should know—Henry is dead.”
“What? Henry is dead?” This from Gabriel.
“Yes.”
Isabella took a step forward. “That’s terrible,” she said. “That’s really terrible. We were going to… God. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay.” Arkady’s face was blank.
“Was he ill? Was it an accident or something?” Gabriel asked.
“No. But I think he did not want to live.” Arkady shrugged. “Some people do not think life is so great.”
“Jesus. Well, I’m very sorry to hear about that.” Gabriel shook his head in a gesture that expressed sympathy as best he could from beneath two wool hats.
“He sounded like a nice guy,” Isabella said, raising a mitten to her head. “In his letter, I mean.”
“He was. But that makes no difference.”
The three stood in silence a moment. There did not seem to be anything more to say. But it was too cold not to be moving.
“Okay. So. I will see you later, maybe. My friends will help me move the piano tomorrow. We will wait until after lunchtime in case you sleep.”
“Oh… Okay.” Isabella looked at her brother. Then said quietly, “Well, neither of us can play it.”
Gabriel was silent.
Arkady nodded slowly for a moment, seeming to assess them both anew. “Good luck,” he said.
Then he turned, murmuring to himself in Russian. He looked like a soldier in his greatcoat and his bearskin. They watched him go, walking oddly, his hands deep in his coat pockets, hurrying through the snow.