The Firebird

The imperative ring of my mobile cut in as Rob angled his head to look over his shoulder, his eyes waiting patiently for me to finish my sentence. Except that those eyes were a part of my problem, I thought. When they watched me like that it was hard to remember what I’d meant to say.

The mobile rang a second time. I dragged my gaze from Rob’s and told him, ‘That’ll be Sebastian.’

And it was. ‘You’re back.’ Sebastian sounded pleased. ‘And how was Belgium?’

‘Lovely, thanks.’

‘And how’s your … friend?’

‘Stop fishing.’

When I glanced at Rob I caught the glint of something in his eyes I took to be amusement, though in hindsight I decided it was mischief. Rising from the chair, he stretched to his full height and crossed the floor behind me, with a light touch on my back as he went past. He said, ‘I’m going to take a shower.’

There was silence on my phone line for a moment, then Sebastian’s voice said, ‘Well, well, well.’

I sighed. ‘You wanted something?’

‘Only to go over your instructions for St Petersburg.’

‘That sounds very formal.’ I smiled. ‘Is this Mission Impossible, then? Will my phone self-destruct when you finish?’

‘Let’s hope not. How else will I talk to you while you’re in Russia? Now listen,’ he said. ‘Here’s your schedule.’

I jotted it down while he spoke. It was simple enough. My plane landed in mid afternoon in St Petersburg. After that I had only to go to the hotel and rest. Then on Friday I’d meet with Sebastian’s friend Yuri, who worked at the Hermitage. He would be able to update me on the exhibit, and Wendy Van Hoek. Wendy herself was due to arrive in St Petersburg Friday evening.

‘There’s supposedly an opening reception on the Sunday,’ said Sebastian, ‘but I’m hoping Yuri can find some more private place to introduce you. Either way, you have till Monday morning to convince her she should sell the Surikov to us, for Vasily. Monday afternoon, you fly back here to share a victory drink.’

‘You have a lot of faith.’

‘In you? Of course. I trained you, after all.’

That made me smile against the phone. ‘How are you getting on with Gemma?’

‘She’s very good.’

‘You’re being nice?’

‘You have to ask?’

‘With you? Of course.’

He laughed and let me score the point, then smoothly hit the ball back to me. ‘Shouldn’t you be showering?’

‘Goodnight, Sebastian.’

‘Seriously, Nicola,’ he asked me. ‘Is this somebody whose name I should remember?’

‘He’s a friend,’ I said. ‘That’s all.’ And ringing off, I went to pack my suitcase for St Petersburg. It didn’t take me long. I had my suitcase zipped and standing ready in the entry hall before Rob reappeared. He smelt of soap, his hair still damply curled against his forehead from the shower, and he’d changed into a plain, clean T-shirt and a pair of tracksuit bottoms that were evidently what he meant to sleep in.

‘Will ye help me with the bed?’

‘What? Oh. Sure.’ I felt as tangled up inside as if I’d been an adolescent, and purposely I kept my eyes away from his the whole time we were pulling off the cushions of the sofa bed and swinging out the mattress. I fetched sheets and blankets and an extra pillow from the airing cupboard, and we made the bed together, one of us on either side. And then I said, a bit too cheerfully, ‘Goodnight, then.’

‘Nick?’

Again too brightly, ‘Yes?’

‘What do you wish?’

My gaze did lift to his then, startled. ‘Sorry?’

He sat nonchalantly on the bed’s edge, barefoot. ‘Earlier, afore your boss called, you were saying that you wished for something.’

‘Oh. Right.’ It seemed harmless to say it, since there was no way it could actually happen. ‘I wish you could come to St Petersburg with me, that’s all. But you can’t. You need a visa to get into Russia,’ I said. ‘I’ve already got mine, it’s for business and lasts a full year, so I just come and go as I please, but you’d need one for tourists, and even a rushed one takes time. I’d have been there and back before you ever got one.’ I forced a smile. ‘Anyhow. I’ve got a lot more to go on now, haven’t I? Thanks to you.’

‘Anytime.’ He stretched out full length on the bed, settling back with his hands linked behind his head, closing his eyes. ‘You’ll do fine.’

I didn’t argue with that. I only said ‘Good night’ again and crossed to my own room, and closed the door.

He was holding me.

I surfaced in the darkness of my bedroom to the feeling of his head close by my own, his warmth beside me, one leg nudging mine beneath the blankets, and his arm a settled weight across my stomach.

‘Rob.’

He didn’t move. I lay there for a moment, coming fully into consciousness, and then I let my eyes close while I let myself relax into the strange and unexpected situation. I had never shared a bed with him before. And though I knew he shouldn’t be here with me now, I somehow lacked the will to wake him right away and make him leave.

He was too warm, his hold too strong and too possessive to be easily dislodged, and I had never felt so perfectly protected, and at peace.

I wasn’t sure when he’d come in. I hadn’t been aware of it, nor had I thought he’d make a move like this when he’d been acting all this time as though he were no longer interested. But clearly there’d be complications if I let him stay and didn’t wake him; if we both woke up together in the morning, in my bed. I knew I’d have to make a move.