day for me, I remember it most clearly. Sometimes I find it difficult to believe that it can have been eleven years ago. Perhaps, when I step off the train at Buda, I expect to find it still burning.'
'Then the sooner you return,' she said severely, 'the better for you.' But he was in one of his secretive moods. As children they had shared every thought, every emotion; even when separated by the war, for long periods, she had felt she understood everything about him. But since that day in Pest he had changed. She sometimes wondered if the exploding grenade, which had opened that terrible wound in his back, had not also injured his brain. But perhaps war changed all men. Although it was difficult to imagine war changing Ewfim. 'What have you there?' she smiled, as he came back to the table.
'See for yourself.' Ewfim Isbinski was a small man, shorter than Helena, and dwarfed by Galitsin. He was an engineer. Galitsins had always been engineers, or they had married into the families of engineers. Alexander was the exception. Ewfim was short-sighted, and occasionally in bed he would take out his gold-rimmed spectacles and rest them on the end of his nose and look down at her and say, 'Helena Petrovna, I am in love with you.' And when he said that she would realise that she was in love with him, too, although they had been married for eight years, and had never shared excessive passion. Now he wore his spectacles again, to peer at the two carp flapping in the net held by the waiter. 'Chosen with exquisite care for you, my love. And for the champion, of course.'
'They look marvellous,' Helena said. 'Don't you think so, Alexander?'
Galitsin nodded. But the last of the pleasure had faded from his eyes, and the grey had turned dull. He was looking across the room, and his right hand had crept up to the lapel of his jacket, to finger the medal ribbon on his breast Helena frowned. She had never seen him do that before.
She turned her head. The orchestra was just striking up on the far side of the fish pond, and the first dancers were already on the floor, the usual motley collection, men in dark suits with ties, men in uniform, men in shabby suits, men without ties, women in long dresses, girls in short frocks, women in high-heeled shoes, women in boots, women in hats, women without hats, women dancing with men, women dancing with women, all bubbling with good humour and me rriment, and surely not yet entir ely full of vodka, reflecting the new mood of the city, the beginning of the new era.
But old eras die hard. Four tables away, three men had just sat down, were ordering dinner. Helena's fro wn deep-ened. Three perfectl y harmless men, well dressed in heavy grey suits and dark ties, enjoying themselves. Perhaps.
'There is nothing wrong, Alexander?'
'Wrong?' Ewfim demanded, 'Why should anything be wrong? Not tonight, of all nights.' He poured himself champagne, glanced in the direction of the three men. 'Oh, Beria's boys. They'd spoil any view.'
'I wish you wouldn't speak like that, Ewfim’ Helena said. ‘ You will get yourself into trouble.'
'Not I, sweetheart, Not I. No one arrests a hero's brother-in-law. And I'm right, you know. Old Lavrenty may be dead and gone and officially forgotten, but they're all still his boys at heart, Hello. Does that chap know you, Alexander?'
Yes.' Galitsin stood up. 'It has been a long time, Comrade Colonel.'
Helena gazed at the man who stood above her. He was remarkably average, almost insignificant, except for the long nose. That sp oiled his anonymity, protruded li ke the antenna of a predatory insect. He frightened her, because he frightened Alexander, She knew this instinctively, and resented it.
'Too long.' Tigran Dus clasped Galitsin's hand. 'I was in the theatre this afternoon and saw your triumph. But I could not get near you. And now you are celebrating. Well done. Don't tell me. This will be Helena.'
She gave him her hand, 'Helena Ishinska, comrade. ’
Tigran Dus.'
'And you