A smile rose to her face, one of those private smiles behind which lay memories. ‘I was born on the cusp of spring, March 23rd. Although often the snow was still thick on the ground and it might still have been midwinter.’

He asked how she had celebrated her birthday in Leningrad. And she told of a special outing, a concert or a film, followed by a celebratory supper at home. There would be the retelling of the past year in highlights, and the forecasting of the year ahead in hopes.

‘We took every opportunity to celebrate,’ she said.

Fresh coffee arrived, and they both sipped in silence, immersed in their own thoughts. After a time, Andrew put his cup down and leaned across the table. He was looking rather pleased with himself. ‘Let’s go to the snow,’ he said. ‘A holiday in the Victorian High Country. We could find a place that’s not popular with skiers, and you could wander around and pretend you were in the countryside near Leningrad.’

He seemed so excited by his idea that Galina could neither refuse nor correct him: nowhere in Australia, even if it snowed for a month, even if the eucalypts started soughing in Russian, could be mistaken for Leningrad. But his enthusiasm was infectious, and soon the two of them were discussing dates and destinations, lodges versus flats, skiing, hiking and other activities for their High Country holiday.

The time sped by. A sharp white sun had risen, and people cocooned in clothes were hurrying to work. Galina glanced at her wristwatch, and instantly Andrew fell silent. It took so little to throw him off, Galina thought, and quickly proposed they continue their planning that evening over dinner.

He brightened up immediately. ‘I’ll bring maps,’ he said. ‘And I think I have some old pamphlets about the High Country.’

‘As you will be supplying the adventure,’ Galina said, ‘I will supply the meal.’

Andrew hurried home. He had some work to finish, followed by a meeting with a committee from Parks and Gardens, and he would also need to fit in a visit to a travel agent for maps and pamphlets of the High Country. It had been a small lie in service to a good cause. A few uninterrupted days with Galya: the prospect was thrilling. And overwhelming.

The fact was he wanted to see her as often as possible, and he wanted their time together to be perfect. Every single time. Before each meeting he was excited and hopeful, during the meeting he was tense and flustered, and afterwards he felt an abysmal failure.