Agent 6

Moscow Secondary School 7 Avtozavodskaya

Leo sat with his hands tight arund the steering wheel, furious at Austin for not understanding the danger that he’d placed him in. The man’s actions were naive – entirely foreign. Keen to prove his detractors at home wrong, he’d embarked on a programme of calculated sabotage, brushing aside their plans with the playfulness of a man who had no comprehension of the regime he flattered. It did not tolerate mistakes. Grave risks existed for the people organizing his trip, including Leo. Yet it hadn’t occurred to Austin that there would be consequences if he saw anything that didn’t chime with the idealized vision that the Kremlin wanted him to export to the United States. These attempts to duck the official preparations were little more than a game, evidenced by the way he’d whistled all the way to the Secondary School 7, where Lena worked.

Leo stared in dumb terror at Secondary School 7: a newly built box of classrooms supported on concrete legs. Fortunately there was no risk that the school building itself wouldn’t pass inspection. The officials were greatly relieved that their guest had chosen an institution they would have gladly picked themselves. The risk was solely on Leo’s shoulders. He’d lied. When he’d claimed Lena was the woman he loved, he’d presumed the lie would fold into the conversation, an irrelevance immediately forgotten. It had been intended to save him from the minor embarrassment of admitting that there was no one he loved and no one who loved him. Now he bitterly regretted his foolishness. Why couldn’t he simply have admitted that he lived alone? There was no way to wriggle out from the trap. Austin was intent upon visiting a school and he wanted to see one that couldn’t have been prepared in advance. Leo had set him up perfectly.

Stepping out of the car, he tried to think calmly, rationally, something he’d been unable to do for the past forty-five minutes. He knew that her name was Lena. He didn’t know her full name. He knew that she taught politics. Most important of all, he knew that she didn’t like him. His legs felt weak, like a condemned man walking to his execution. He weighed up the option of admitting the lie: he could stop the group and declare that he didn’t know Lena. He’d invented a relationship because he didn’t want to appear lonely. It would be a pitiful, humiliating confession. Austin would laugh it off, perhaps offering him some reassuring words about love. They could tour the school without visiting Lena. The officials would say nothing. Yet there was no question that Leo’s career would come to an end. At best he’d be demoted. More likely he’d be accused of deliberately undermining the opinion of a key ally of the Soviet Union. Since there was nothing to gain by admitting the lie it was better to play along with it for as long as possible.

It was lunchtime. Children were outside playing in the snow. Leo could use them to buy him some time, encouraging Austin to talk to the students while he slipped off and found Lena. He only needed a couple of seconds to prepare her. She didn’t have to do anything other than smile, answer questions and play along with his lie. She was smart, he was sure of that. She would understand. She would improvise.

As they entered the gates, Grigori hurried to his side, their first opportunity to speak in private since Austin’s request to visit the school.

– Leo, what is going on? Who is this woman?

Leo checked that no one else was in earshot.

– Grigori, I lied.

– You lied?

He sounded amazed, as if he considered Leo an automaton, incapable of anything as human as a lie.

– About the woman – Lena, she doesn’t love me. She barely even knows me.

– Does she work here?

– She works here. That much is true. I think, at least, I can’t be sure.

– Why did you lie?

– I don’t know. It just happened.

– What are we going to do?

Grigori had not removed himself from Leo’s predicament. He did not have the instincts of a typical MGB agent. They were a team. Leo felt a flush of gratitude.

– I’m going to try and persuade Lena to play along with the lie. Stay with Austin, slow him down, try to buy me as much time as possible.

The children ran forward, forming a circle as Austin entered the school. The playground had fallen silent. No doubt fearing that one of the children might say something out of turn, it was entirely possible that none of them had ever seen a black man before, an official spoke up, smiling broadly to cover the implicit threat.

– Children, you have a very important guest today. This is Jesse Austin, the famous singer. You must show our guest how well you can behave.

Even the youngest children understood the danger these men represented. Austin crouched down to ask a question. Leo couldn’t hear what he was saying. He was already on his way to the entrance.

Once inside, out of sight, he broke into a run, his shoes heavy on the smooth stone floor. He stopped a teacher, grabbing her arms, startling her with his intensity.

– Where’s the director’s office?

The teacher remained dumbstruck, staring at Leo’s uniform. Leo shook her.

– Where?

She pointed to the end of the corridor.

Leo burst into the room, causing the school director to stand up, paling with each second. Leo realized that the poor man believed he was being arrested. He was frail, in his late fifties. His lips were squeezed thin with anxiety. There wasn’t much time.

– I’m Officer Demidov. I need to know everything about a teacher working here. She’s called Lena.

The director sounded like a frightened child.

– A teacher?

– She’s called Lena. She’s young, my age.

– You’re not here for me?

Leo snapped:

– No, I’m not. I’m here for a woman called Lena. Hurry up!

The old man seemed to come alive with these words – someone else was in trouble, not him. He stepped around the front of his desk, keen to be as helpful as possible. Leo glanced towards the door.

– Lena, you say?

– Her subject is politics.

– A teacher called Lena? I’m sorry: you have the wrong school. There are no teachers called Lena here.

– What?

– There are no teachers called Lena working here.

Leo was shocked.

– But I saw her books. They had the name of this school written across them.

Grigori opened the door, hissing a warning:

– They’re coming!

Leo was sure of the school. Where was the mistake? She’d told him her name. Her name! That was the lie.

– How many teach politics?

– Three.

– A young woman among them?

– Yes.

– What is her name? Do you have a photograph of her?

– In the files.

– Hurry!

The director found the relevant file. He handed it to Leo. Before he could look through it, Grigori opened the door again. Austin and the officials entered the room. Leo turned to address them:

– Director, I’d like to introduce you to Jesse Austin, our guest. He wants to inspect a Soviet school before returning to America.

The director having barely recovered from the first shock was inflicted with a second – an internationally renowned guest and a group of top-ranking officials. The official who’d addressed the children outside now addressed the headmaster, using the same smile to mask his warning:

– We want to show our visitor that the Soviet education system is one of the best in the world.

The director’s voice had become weak again.

– I wish you’d given me some warning.

Austin stepped forward.

– No warning. No fuss. No ceremony. No preparations. I want to poke around, see what you get up to. And see how things work. Forget I’m even here.

He turned to Leo.

– How about we watch a lesson?

Disingenuous, Leo answered:

– A science lesson, perhaps?

– Is that what your girl teaches? Science?

Upon hearing the claim that a teacher was Leo’s girlfriend, the director stared at Leo. Ignoring him, Leo answered Austin’s question:

– No. She teaches politics.

– Well, we all like politics, don’t we?

Everyone laughed except Leo and the director. Austin added:

What was her name? Did you tell me before?

Leo couldn’t remember if he’d mentioned the name Lena or not.

– Her name?

Evidently he didn’t know her name. The director was too scared or too slow-witted to step in and help him.

– Her name…

Leo deliberately dropped the file – let it slip from his hand, the papers falling out. He bent down, picking them, glancing through them.

– Her name is Raisa.

*

The director led the way to Classroom 23 on the second floor, Austin by his side, the officials behind him, stopping occasionally to examine a poster on the wall, or peer into another lesson. During these breaks, Leo was forced to wait, unable to stand still. He had no idea how the woman who’d lied to him about her name was going to react. Eventually reaching the classroom, Leo peered through the small window. The woman at the front was the woman he’d met on the metro, the woman he’d spoken to on the tramcar, the woman who’d told him her name was Lena. It occurred to him, belatedly, that she might be married. She might have children of her own. As long as she was smart, they were both safe.

Leo pushed forward and opened the door. The delegation followed, the entrance filling up with officials, the school’s director with Jesse Austin at the front. The students stood up, amazed, their eyes flicking from Leo’s uniform to their director’s anxious face to Austin’s wide smile.

Raisa turned to Leo, holding a stub of chalk, her fingers dusty white. She was the only person in the room, aside from Austin, who seemed calm. Her composure was remarkable and Leo was reminded why he found her so attractive. Using her real name, as if he’d known no other, Leo said:

– Raisa, I’m sorry for arriving unexpectedly but our guest, Jesse Austin, wanted to visit a secondary school and I naturally thought of you.

Austin stepped forward, offering his hand.

– Don’t be mad at him. It’s my fault. I wanted it to be a surprise.

Raisa nodded, assessing the situation with agility.

– It certainly is a surprise.

She noted Leo’s uniform, before remarking to Austin:

– Mr Austin, I enjoy your music very much.

Austin smiled, asking coyly:

– You’ve heard it?

– You’re one of the few Western…

Raisa’s eyes darted towards the crowd of party officials. She checked herself:

– Western singers any Russian would want to listen to.

Austin was elated.

– That’s kind of you.

Raisa glanced at Leo.

– I’m flattered my lessons were considered worthy for such important visitors.

– Would it be OK if I watched you teach?

– Take my seat.

– No, I’ll stand. We’ll be no trouble, I promise! You just go ahead. Do your normal thing.

It was a comical notion that this lesson would be normal. Leo felt faintly hysterical and light-headed. The sense of gratitude was so intense it was a struggle not to take hold of Raisa’s hands and kiss them. She taught the lesson, managing to ignore the fact that none of the children were listening, all of them fascinated by the guests.

After twenty minutes a delighted Austin thanked Raisa.

– You have a real gift. The way you speak, the things you say about Communism, thank you for letting me listen in.

– It was my pleasure.

Jesse Austin was smitten with her too. It was hard not to be.

– Are you busy tonight, Raisa? Because I’d like it very much if you’d come to my concert. I’m sure Leo has told you about it?

She glanced at Leo.

– He has.

She lied with consummate skill.

– Then you’ll come? Please?

She smiled, expressing a razor-sharp sense of self-preservation.