Goodbye to an Old Friend Read Online Free

challenged, his basic insecurity erupting. He scurried across the room and stood in front of Adrian. Even sitting, the Englishman was practically face to face with the defector. Sweat bubbled on Bennovitch’s face and his hands clenched, convulsively, bellowing open and shut in his anger.
    â€˜You think I’m an imposter, a phoney. You’re checking me against some information your embassy in Moscow has sent …’
    â€˜Alexandre, stop it,’ said Adrian, his voice relaxed and even. ‘You know I don’t think that. We’ve accepted you completely. Here.’
    He produced the document from his pocket and handed it to the Russian, who took it and frowned down, lips moving to form the words.
    Exasperated, he snapped suspiciously, ‘What is it? You know I don’t read English well.’
    â€˜It’s official notice from our Home Office that we’ve granted you asylum. It’s being announced today. You can stay here as long as you like.’
    Bennovitch smiled up from the paper, his anger evaporating as Adrian had calculated it would.
    â€˜Honestly?’
    â€˜Believe me,’ said Adrian. ‘We have no doubt, no doubt at all.’
    â€˜Why do you want to know about Viktor then?’
    â€˜We’re curious,’ said Adrian, casually. ‘Just curious, that’s all.’
    â€˜We’re friends,’ said Bennovitch, reflectively, holding the paper before him as if he were reading from it. ‘Viktor was like … like a father to me, I suppose.’
    The cliché came naturally, without any artificiality.
    â€˜He’s older then?’
    â€˜Oh yes,’ replied the Russian, immediately. ‘He’s fifty-nine. His birthday is on the same day as his son’s.’
    â€˜Georgi?’
    Bennovitch nodded. ‘He’s very worried about the boy. He’s in the army, way down on the Chinese front. It’s a bad place to be. If a third world war starts, it’ll start there.’
    â€˜Was it a good wedding?’
    Bennovitch seemed almost unaware of the prompting, deep in his reverie.
    â€˜Hah!’ he exclaimed, slapping his thigh. ‘What a wedding! It was cold, even for Moscow, maybe ten degrees below …’
    â€˜It was winter then?’
    â€˜Oh yes,’ replied Bennovitch, ‘December 25th. Valentina is a religious woman, although we don’t admit it, of course. She chose the 25th – Christ’s birthday.’
    â€˜It was cold,’ coaxed Adrian.
    â€˜Freezing,’ picked up the defector. ‘And I decided upon some pepper vodka, to warm us up. Have you ever had pepper vodka?’
    â€˜No.’
    â€˜Nothing like it for a cold day. Anyway, we had one, then another. And then another …’
    The Russian broke up, convulsed by the memory. ‘Valentina had to come all the way from the Hall of Weddings, to see where we were. Viktor could hardly stand at the ceremony … He doesn’t drink as a rule and he was swaying like a tree in the wind …’
    Bennovitch’s own laughter cut off the story. ‘… We went back to the flat,’ he continued, ‘Viktor hadn’t been given all the honours then and we were all sharing with another family … the Rogovs … he passed right out on the bridal bed. He kept everyone awake all night with his snores …’
    He stopped and Adrian joined in the laughter, as if amused by the recollection. He sighed, happily, a man completely content with his job. Why wasn’t everything so easy?
    â€˜Think you’ll miss him?’
    â€˜Yes.’ Bennovitch stopped laughing, immediately serious. ‘Yes.’ He repeated the confession, slowly.
    He hesitated, searching for an expression. ‘I thought about this … coming across, I mean … for a long time. Really it was easier for me than it has been for others who decided to defect. I only had Valentina as a family who could suffer and