“What if I got them onto a truck ferrying wounded soldiers back from the front line? They would receive good care and the normal rules would not apply.” He squeezed her forearm. “I must cross the Ice Road myself tomorrow night and could keep an eye on them. When I return next weekend I will be able to reassure you they are safe.”

Maria took a deep breath. “You would do that for us?” She frowned, puzzled. “I would be greatly in your debt.”

“There’s no need for such formality.” He smiled, the shiny pink scar that zigzagged down his cheek stretching. “Perhaps we could attend a concert together on my return,” he continued. “I hear the Radio Symphony Orchestra still give performances.”

Maria stared at him in astonishment. His experience of the war must be fundamentally different from hers if he could consider spending time and money on anything but food.

He misread her expression. “I’m sorry. I know it is only a little over four years since your husband died, and perhaps you are not ready, but since we are both on our own, I thought perhaps you would like company. I know I would.”

Maria felt sick at the thought that he saw this as some kind of romantic overture, but at the same time she yearned to get Mikhail and Katya safely across the lake. She hesitated, not wanting to give him hope yet at the same time keen to take him up on his offer. “I work long hours and am tired when I finish, but perhaps sometime we will be able to listen to music together. It seems like a dream from another life, one I can barely remember.”

“I have always loved music,” he said. “I couldn’t live without it.” He smiled again. “So tomorrow, I will collect the children at four o’clock. Have their bags packed and ready.”

“Of course I will,” she said. “And thank you, from the bottom of my heart.”

* * *

Maria packed with infinite care. Each child had a large bag with sweaters, socks, shoes, nightwear, and a warm blanket, as well as a small satchel that could be slung around their body. In the satchels she packed a bottle of her elecampane mixture, two slices of bread, a precious jar of preserved food from her stock, and a twist of paper with some vitamin powder. She gave each a purse of money, some pencils, paper, and envelopes with stamps so they could write home, and their ration cards, as well as bowls and cutlery. Yuri had said he would take care of the paperwork.