“Spar-see-bar.”And always useful to say “thank you.”
Sophie liked the way her tongue rolled around in her mouth as she said these words. They seemed so much more meaningful than just “please” or “thank you.” It amused her the way the vowels just knocked into each other. There was nothing polite or clipped about Russian, nothing very kind or courteous about the sound of the words. Nothing limited. They sounded rich and fat, like someone laughing. Dr. Starova would teach her how to speak Russian, she just knew it. And for once, Sophie would be good at something.
A middle-aged couple with a sulky-looking girl approached the group. The woman was holding a piece of paper. Miss Ellis spoke to them in what appeared to be very stilted Russian, then checked her clipboard and called out, “Lydia? Lydia Sedgwick? Come on! Oh, will someone pinch her and get her headphones off? Can she not go for three seconds without blasting her brain with rap music?”
Lydia, looking slightly dazed, pushed her headphones off as her Russian hosts shook hands with her. Before the man had picked up her suitcase, however, she was pulling them back on.
“Honestly …” muttered Miss Ellis.
Other families arrived, and girls were quickly ticked off the list and accompanied out of the station. By six forty-five, only Miss Ellis, Sophie, Delphine, and Marianne were left.
Miss Ellis’s own host, the head of modern languages at School 59, was standing slightly to one side, looking bored. He wandered over to Miss Ellis and they had a conversation that involved lots of looking at watches and shrugging of shoulders.
“Miss Ellis?”
Sophie gasped.
It was the woman from the café, the one with the short black hair and the tapestry coat. She had appeared as if from nowhere.
“I am sorry to be late. I am Dr. Galina Starova.” She smiled at Miss Ellis’s host and the man grinned foolishly, his bored manner completely extinguished. “Dr. Karenin! I have heard so much about you!”
The man stood taller and his shoulders seemed to broaden under his thick overcoat.
“You will excuse me.” The woman leaned toward Miss Ellis as if she were about to tell her a great secret. “My car, he would not start. The weather!” She showed a set of extremely even, incredibly white teeth. Her eyelids gleamed with pearly blue eye shadow, which made her pale eyes look even larger.
The way she bent like a tulip toward Miss Ellis, the slow smile, that rich voice, the enormous pale blue eyes … Now Sophie wanted to gasp again, but felt too astonished. She’d been watching this woman at the café without realizing that she’d seen her before.
She turned to Marianne. “It’s her!” she whispered.
“Who?” Marianne looked around.
“The woman who came to our school.”
“What woman?”
But before Sophie could reply, Miss Ellis snapped, “Well, at least you’re here.” She did not bother to hide her irritation. “It is very late for the girls, Dr. Starova. They are very tired after their long journey.”
“But of course.” Dr. Starova looked serious. She placed a gloved hand on Miss Ellis’s arm, and glanced across at Dr. Karenin, lowering her eyelids once more. “I understand. You worry! But now I am here and girls all safe!” She turned to the girls and opened her eyes wide. “So, we say good-bye to Miss Ellis and charming Dr. Karenin, and we hurry into night. Snow not worry us!” She almost pushed Miss Ellis away. “Good-bye! See you Monday!”
Miss Ellis gave Dr. Starova a quizzical look, then turned to the girls. “Please be on your best behavior,” she said, staring at Sophie meaningfully, then started walking briskly toward the Metro. Dr. Karenin shook himself as if from a daydream, and followed slowly behind, but he kept glancing over his shoulder, as if he were no longer eager to leave the station and the mesmerizing Dr. Starova.
“Wave good-bye, girls!” Dr. Starova beamed.
Sophie, Marianne, and Delphine waved limply to their teacher’s unseeing back. Dr. Starova watched the escalator intently, waiting until Miss Ellis and her host had completely disappeared.
Then Sophie couldn’t stop herself. “It’s you!” she cried.
The woman narrowed her pale eyes and looked at Sophie, then quickly looked away again. “Who else could I be but me?” she said.
“I mean, it’s you. From the school. You came to my school. In London.” Sophie wasn’t sure if she was making herself clear. “I showed you the playground,” Sophie insisted. “You took my photograph. To show Natalya.”
“Who?” The woman frowned.
Sophie felt confused. Had she got it wrong? “Natalya, your daughter …”
The woman waved her hand airily. “Ah, yes. Perhaps. I travel often. I visit many schools!” She smiled approvingly at Delphine. “That is good coat. Good for Russian weather.” She reached out and stroked the fabric. “Is designer?”
Delphine smiled. “Of course!”
