“I haven’t done anything wrong, Bill. In fact, I had some pretty shattering news and I was hoping for your sympathy.” He didn’t say anything, so Val continued. “He told me that Anatoly Bolotov was one of the men who killed the Romanovs. Seemingly Yurovsky left a testimony naming him.” There was no response, so she stretched out her arms to give him a hug, saying, “I’m sorry if I’ve upset you.”

“You just didn’t think,” Bill snapped, pulling away. “You don’t know this country, but I thought you would respect that I knew what I was talking about when I warned you not to bring those photographs and not to discuss the Romanovs. Did you think I was saying it for fun?”

“No, but I—”

“You didn’t give a single thought to how your revelations might affect my parents. My father will be in a whole heap of trouble if it emerges that he bought us train tickets to a closed city. They’ve spent their life savings moving here, and because of you they could be arrested, lose their apartment, even go to jail.”

“No! Surely not!” Val blushed crimson. “How would anyone find out?”

“Once your curator reports us, inquiries will be made and any investigation will mean Mom and Dad being hauled in for questioning.”

“Honestly, I’m sure Stepan won’t report us,” Val insisted. “He wasn’t like that.”

“And you reckon you’re such a good judge of character, do you? Is that why you married a man who broke your wrist?”

Val was shocked. She had never seen this side of Bill before. Where was all his anger coming from? “That’s a bit low,” she remarked.

“But true. Now tell me exactly what was said. I need to decide whether I have to warn Mom and Dad.” He was running his fingers through his hair, looking incredibly stressed.

Val relayed the conversation as best she could, and Bill kept shaking his head. When she had finished, he asked, “How could you be such an idiot?”

“If it was such a big deal,” she protested, “why did you let your father buy us the tickets?”

“Because I knew how much it meant to you.”

He looked miserable, and Val decided the only thing for it was a full apology. “You’re right. It was thoughtless of me to talk to the curator. If there’s anything I can do to make things better, just say.”

She wished he would give her a hug at least, even if he couldn’t forgive her straightaway. Instead he mumbled, “I’m going to bed. We’ll see if the guide mentions anything in the morning. That would be a sure sign it’s been reported.”