Page 389 of Edge of Eternity (The Century 3)

Mrs. Nixon was dressed in a two-piece check suit with a short jacket and discreetly below-the-knee skirt. Her white shoes had a low heel. A chiffon neck scarf completed her outfit. Tanya hated doing fashion. She had covered the Cuban missile crisis, for God's sake--from Cuba!

At last the First Lady was whisked away in a Chrysler LeBaron limousine, and the press pack dispersed.

In the car park Tanya saw a tall man wearing a long, threadbare coat in the spring sunshine. He had unkempt iron-gray hair, and his lined face looked as if it might once have been handsome.

It was Vasili.

She stuffed her fist into her mouth and bit her hand to suppress the scream that bubbled up in her throat.

He saw that she had recognized him, and he smiled, showing gaps where he had lost teeth.

She walked slowly over to where he stood, hands in the pockets of his coat. He had no hat, and he squinted because of the sun.

"They let you out," Tanya said.

"To please the American president," he said. "Thank you, Dick Nixon."

He should have thanked Dimka Dvorkin. But it was probably better not to tell anyone that, not even Vasili.

She looked around warily, but there was no one else in sight.

"Don't worry," said Vasili. "For two weeks this place has been crawling with security police, but they all left five minutes ago."

She could restrain herself no longer, and threw herself into his arms. He patted her back as if to comfort her. She hugged him hard.

"My," he said, "you smell good."

She broke the embrace. She was bursting with a hundred questions and had to restrain her enthusiasm and pick one. "Where are you living?"

"They gave me a Stalin apartment--old, but nice."

Apartments from the Stalin era had bigger rooms and higher ceilings than the more compact flats built in the late fifties and sixties.

She was overflowing with exhilaration. "Shall I visit you there?"

"Not yet. Let's find out how closely they're watching me."

"Do you have work?" It was a favorite trick of the Communists to make sure a man could not get a job, then accuse him of being a social parasite.

"I'm at the Agriculture Ministry. I write pamphlets for peasants explaining new farming techniques. Don't pity me: it's important work, and I'm good at it."

"And your health?"

"I'm fat!" He opened his coat to show her.

She laughed happily. He was not fat, but perhaps he was not as thin as he had been. "You're wearing the sweater I sent you. I'm amazed it reached you." It was the one Anna Murray had bought in Vienna. Tanya would now have to explain all that to him. She did not know where to start.

"I've hardly taken this off for four years. I don't need it, in Moscow in May, but it's hard to get used to the idea that the weather is not always freezing."

"I can get you another sweater."

"You must be making big money!"

"No, I'm not," she said with a wide smile. "But you are."

He frowned, puzzled. "How come?"

"Let's go to a bar," she said, taking his arm. "I've got such a lot to tell you."

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