Dimka shook his head. “That’s not enough. In Andropov’s absence, Chernenko will chair the meeting, and once that happens everyone will accept him as leader-in-waiting. And then the whole country will go backward.” The prospect was too depressing to contemplate.

“Obviously we want Gorbachev to chair the meeting.”

“But Chernenko is number two. I wish he’d go to hospital.”

“He will soon—he’s not a well man.”

“But probably not soon enough. Is there any way we can bypass him?”

Natalya considered. “Well, the Politburo must do what Andropov tells it to do.”

“So he could just issue an order saying Gorbachev will chair the meeting?”

“Yes, he could. He’s still the boss.”

“He could add a paragraph to his speech.”

“Perfect. I’ll call him and suggest it.”

Later that afternoon Dimka got a message summoning him to Natalya’s office. When he got there he saw that her eyes were gleaming with excitement and triumph. With her was Arkady Volsky, Andropov’s personal aide. Andropov had summoned Volsky to the hospital and had given him a handwritten addendum to the speech. Volsky now gave it to Dimka.

The last paragraph read:

For reasons which you understand, I will not be able to chair meetings of the Politburo and Secretariat in the near future. I would therefore request members of the central committee to examine the question of entrusting the leadership of the Politburo and secretariat to Mikhail Sergeyevich Gorbachev.

It was expressed as a suggestion, but in the Kremlin a suggestion from the leader was the same thing as a direct order.

“This is dynamite,” said Dimka. “They can’t possibly disobey.”

“What should I do with it?” said Volsky.

Dimka said: “First, make several photocopies, so that there’s no point in anyone tearing it up. Then . . .” Dimka hesitated.

Natalya said: “Don’t tell anyone. Just give it to Bogolyubov.” Klavdii Bogolyubov was in charge of preparing the papers for Politburo meetings. “Be low-key. Just tell him to add the extra material to the red folder containing Andropov’s speech.”

They agreed that was the best plan.

Christmas Day was not a big festival. The Communists disliked its religious nature. They changed Santa Claus to Father Frost and the Virgin Mary to the Snow Maiden, and moved the celebration to New Year. That was when the children would get their gifts. Grisha, who was now twenty, was getting a cassette player, and Katya, fourteen, a new dress. Dimka and Natalya, as senior Communist politicians, did not dream of celebrating Christmas, regardless of their personal beliefs. Both went to work as usual.

The day after, Dimka went to the Presidium Room for the Politburo meeting. He was met at the door by Natalya, who had got there earlier. She looked distraught. She was holding open the red folder containing Andropov’s speech. “They left it out!” she said. “They left out the last paragraph!”

Dimka sat down heavily. “I never imagined Chernenko would have the guts,” he said.

There was nothing they could do, he realized. Andropov was in hospital. If he had stormed into the room and yelled at everyone, his authority would have been reasserted; but he could not. Chernenko had correctly estimated Andropov’s weakness.