—It’s my fault. Not Leo’s, don’t be angry with him. Just concentrate on the performance. Have fun. Enjoy tonight.

Raisa was about to return to the front of the students when Elena took her hand, saying:

—Mother, I would never be involved in anything that wouldn’t make you proud of me.

The use of the word mother had been deliberate. Fearful that she would not be able to control her emotions, Raisa uttered a quick response:

—I know.

Raisa hurried back into position, composing herself, ready to lead her students onto the stage. She breathed deeply, determined to succeed. This was a remarkable event. Many years ago, in the Great Patriotic War, a refugee, her only thought had been to survive. As a teacher in Moscow during Stalin’s reign, her only ambition had been to avoid arrest. Were she to go back in time and show that fearful young woman a glimpse of her future – a prestigious international audience in this remarkable hall with two beautiful daughters by her side – it would be impossible to believe. Her only wish was that Leo could be here with her, not because of any plot or treachery – she bitterly regretted putting the idea into his head – but because no other person understood the journey she’d made.

The musical cue was given. The orchestra was ready. The audience fell silent. Side by side with the American head teacher, Raisa led her students out. The applause was polite and she sensed not without an undercurrent of uncertainty. No one was quite sure how this unprecedented performance was going to turn out.

***

Walking onto the stage, Elena reassured herself that she hadn’t lied: her mother was certain to be proud when she understood what she was trying to achieve – a much-needed show of love and admiration for Jesse Austin, a man wrongly persecuted for his convictions, a brilliant man beaten down by state oppression because of his belief in fairness and love. Of course, Raisa would be angry at first, furious by the fact that it had remained a secret. She would be angry that she’d not been told. Once that anger faded, then surely she would understand, perhaps she would even admire Elena’s courage.