It all fell into place. ‘That’s why you’re still scared.’

Her dark skin was bloodless with fear. ‘You bet your goddamn life.’

Greg’s voice fell to a whisper. ‘Jacky, I’m sorry.’

She forced a smile. ‘Are you sure he was so wrong? You were fifteen. It’s not a good age to get married.’

‘If he had said that to me, it might be different. But he decides what’s going to happen and just does it, as if no one else is entitled to an opinion.’

‘Still, we had good times.’

‘You bet.’

‘I was your Gift.’

He laughed. ‘Best present I ever got.’

‘So what are you doing these days?’

‘Working in the press office at the State Department for the summer.’

She made a face. ‘Sounds boring.’

‘It’s the opposite! It’s so exciting to watch powerful men make earth-shaking decisions, just sitting there at their desks. They run the world!’

She looked sceptical, but said: ‘Well, it probably beats waitressing.’

He began to see how far apart they had moved. ‘In September I’m going back to Harvard for my last year.’

‘I bet you’re a gift to the co-eds.’

‘There are lots of men and not many girls.’

‘You do all right, though, don’t you?’

‘I can’t lie to you.’ He wondered whether Emily Hardcastle had kept her promise and got herself fitted with a contraceptive device.

‘You’ll marry one of them and have beautiful children and live in a house on the edge of a lake.’

‘I’d like to be something in politics, maybe Secretary of State, or a senator like Woody Dewar’s father.’

She looked away.

Greg thought about that house on the edge of a lake. It must be her dream. He felt sad for her.

‘You’ll make it,’ she said. ‘I know. You have that air about you. Even when you were fifteen you had it. You’re like your father.’

‘What? Come on!’

She shrugged. ‘Think about it, Greg. You knew I didn’t want to see you. But you set a private dick on me. He decides what’s going to happen and just does it, as if no one else is entitled to an opinion. That’s what you said about him a minute ago.’

Greg was dismayed. ‘I hope I’m not completely like him.’

She gave him an appraising look. ‘The jury’s still out.’

The waitress took her plate. ‘Some dessert?’ she said. ‘Peach pie’s good.’

Neither of them wanted dessert, so the waitress gave Greg the bill.

Jacky said: ‘I hope I’ve satisfied your curiosity.’

‘Thank you, I appreciate it.’

‘Next time you see me on the street, just walk on by.’

‘If that’s what you want.’

She stood up. ‘Let’s leave separately. I’d feel more comfortable.’

‘Whatever you say.’

‘Good luck, Greg.’

‘Good luck to you.’

‘Tip the waitress,’ she said, and she walked away.

10

1941 (III)

In October the snow fell and melted, and the streets of Moscow were cold and wet. Volodya was searching in the store cupboard for his valenki, the traditional felt boots that warmed the feet of Muscovites in winter, when he was astonished to see six cases of vodka.