“I’m glad to hear there was one officer with humanity in that loathsome organization, but your missing persons work was always a bit risky.” He smiled fondly. “I suspect if I had been here I’d have tried to talk you out of it.”

“I doubt you would have managed,” Stepan told him. “I tried.”

They arrived at the apartment and the men sat at the kitchen table while Maria, Irina, and Ludmilla bustled around cooking. The children brought their toys to show this man who was their new grandfather, and he smiled to see the wooden ones he had made long ago being enjoyed by a new generation. He tested the wheels of the steam engine against his palm.

“These could use a little oil,” he told Alexei. “They are getting stiff. I’ll show you how to do it.”

Tears came to Maria’s eyes again and she knew they would keep doing so for some time to come. It was incredible. She kept touching Peter’s shoulder, catching his eye, fussing over him, as if he might disappear again if she stopped.

After they had eaten, she ran a hot bath for him and sat on the edge, soaping his bony back, where the skin was scarred and calloused, the ribs jutting out just as hers used to during the siege.

“Our neighbor Viktor has come back from a gulag,” she said. “He told me it is impossible to talk to his wife about it because it would upset her too much. I want you to know that you can tell me anything you like. I am stronger now than I was when you left—”

“You were always strong, Maria,” he interrupted. “And I will tell you. But not today. Today is for celebrating. We’ve been cheated out of sixteen years and now all I want is to make the most of the next sixteen.”

It felt odd climbing into bed together, Maria in her voluminous nightdress and Peter in flannel pajamas borrowed from Stepan. She wondered if he would want to make love and whether her old body was still capable of it. Instead he looped his arms around her and fell asleep with his face buried in her neck so she could feel his breath on her skin. She was used to her grandchildren hopping into bed in the morning, their firm, warm flesh smelling faintly of soap, but this was different. Peter felt sharp and angular, but he smelled the same as he always had, and slept just as soundly.

Maria couldn’t fall asleep for hours but lay awake looking at the stars through the gap in the curtains and thanking God for this extraordinary miracle.

Chapter 58

Leningrad, summer 1976