He checked his watch, holding it up to the window, catching the moonlight. Four in the morning – in just a few hours he would accompany his family to the airport, where he would say goodbye, remaining in Moscow. In the dark he dressed, stealthily leaving the bedroom. Opening the door he was surprised to see his younger daughter seated at the kitchen table in the dark. Her arms were in front of her, hands clasped, as if she were praying – deep in thought. Seventeen years old, Elena was a miracle to Leo: seemingly incapable of spite or malice, her character showing few scars, in contrast to Zoya, his elder daughter, who was often brusque, surly and aggressive, with a temper that could flare at the slightest provocation.

Elena looked up at him. He felt a shudder of guilt at the thought of discovering her diary, before reminding himself that he’d put it back without reading more than the opening sentence. He sat beside her and whispered:

—Can’t sleep?

She glanced across the room in Zoya’s direction. To avoid turning on a light and waking her, Leo lit a short stubby candle, tipping wax into the base of a tea glass and fixing the candle inside. Elena remained silent, hypnotized by the refracted light of the flame. His earlier observation that she was acting oddly was accurate. It was quite unlike her to be tense and reticent. If this had been an intervias part of an investigation Leo would have been sure that she was involved in something. But Leo was not an agent any more and he was annoyed that his thoughts were still organized according to the disciplines he’d been taught.

He took out a deck of cards. There was nothing else to do for the next couple of hours. Shuffling the deck, he whispered:

—Are you nervous?

Elena looked at him oddly.

—I’m not a child any more.

—A child? I know that.

She was angry with him. He pressed her:

—Is anything wrong?

She considered for some time, looking down at her hands, before answering with a shake of her head.

—I’ve never flown before, that’s all. It’s silly, really.

—You would tell me? If there was something wrong?

—Yes, I’d tell you.

He did not believe her.