Squeezy smiled ruefully, possibly admitting he’d been caught unawares for once, out-manoeuvred. Aleksey chose to take such uncharacteristic silence in that light, anyway.
He dropped them with the dogs at the top of their lane, saying he had to get to a meeting. Aleksey was about to score another fairly obviously point about this when Ben punched the moron’s arm lightly. ‘Make my apologies. I’ll come next time,’ and then explained to him, as they started to walk home, ‘The charity thing. We’re looking into doing outreach from our Exeter setup to the local towns—even Totnes.’
‘There are many homeless veterans in Totnes?’
‘I kinda think they’re everywhere.’
They strolled together along the rhododendron-lined driveway, not something they did very often, usually just driving in, glad to be home. The shrubs were past their spring best and the purples and pinks were browned, many blossoms now lying on the ground. Aleksey turned and began to walk backwards, considering the old gate, which was still left as they’d found it: two ancient stone pillars marking the bounds of the ancient manor.
‘What?’
Aleksey turned again and continued walking. He flung his arm over Ben’s shoulder. ‘I was thinking how easy it would be for a horse to just…walk right in.’
‘Huh?’
He rubbed Ben’s hair and distracted him by asking about his flying lesson that day.
When Ben had ridden away, bent low over his bike, Aleksey wandered over to the cottages in the woods. As usual, Enid’s door was open, so he knocked for politeness sake and went in. She was in her usual chair in her garden room, watching the activity outside. She was smiling broadly and when she saw him, gestured to the scene of three industrious children. ‘They’re making a squirrel run. Miles designed it. Em is helping him build it, and they’re going to let Molly paint it.’
Aleksey went to put the kettle on, something he realised with a smile that Ben still didn’t get that he knew how to do. Ack, why keep a dog and bark yourself? He decided swiftly not to put it in those terms to Ben, however.
He took in a cup for Enid and sat with her to observe the diligent doings outside.
‘Miles was telling me about the red squirrels you have on your island. That’s so exciting. I’ve never seen one.’
‘Well when you come to visit us there, you will.’
‘Oh, yes, that would be lovely.’
She had trouble lifting her cup without spilling her tea, so this courteous offer wasn’t looking hopeful. He had never had a lot to do with old people before. Everyone he knew died young, something he didn’t want to ponder too much, as he’d had a lot to do with most of those deaths. He remembered his Danish grandparents and their large, austere house in Copenhagen quite well. He and his brother had stayed with them frequently, sometimes for months at a time. He couldn’t recall why now, but assumed their mother must have been touring. Nikolas, of course, had remained living with them during holidays from the academy, but he had not really had much contact with them after he’d gone to live in Russia. Enid, therefore, was his only real experience with ageing. Her grace and dignity in the face of such a profound loss of both these things moved him.
‘She really is a beautiful young woman, isn’t she?’
Aleksey turned his gaze back to window. He had seen three children and Sarah when he’d arrived, but suddenly, at this comment, he recognised Emilia for the young woman she had become. She was eighteen. He had not thought of himself as a boy when he was that age. She was tall, just as he had been. She was very thin, too, but for different reasons—she glowed with vitality and health. Her red hair, which had been the colour of fire when he’d first met her, had darkened now to a deep auburn, a fiery depth of burnished colour that enhanced her porcelain-pale skin. She had it in a thick braid which reached almost to her waist.
They had apparently finished building their rodent challenge and Emilia held Molly up so she could place some tempting treats on the final platform.
When he left, she elected to walk back with him. She pretended to tuck her arm into his then laughed in delight at his mock disdain.
‘What are your plans for the summer, now you are finally done with school?’
She stopped to pick a couple of buttercups which were growing wild alongside the woodland path, attempting to test under his chin for butter liking. ‘I’m not sure.’
‘Do you have everything you need for your first term?’
Despite all his efforts to get her into Moscow State University, a certain president had recently thwarted his plans. But she had also been offered a much-coveted place at Cambridge, and was now due to start there in the autumn if her A-level grades were as expected.
‘You didn’t really go to university, did you? Your degree in international affairs?’
He thought about this for a while, tempted to reply that he’d had affairs with foreigners, so did that count? But then replied honestly, ‘No. That was my brother.’
She inclined her head thoughtfully, and was also silent for a few moments before asking, ‘Do you think you’d have been better if you’d gone?’
‘Better? That’s a bit harsh.’
She laughed and punched his arm lightly. ‘Different then.’
‘Possibly. I don’t know. There are many things I would like to have learnt, and many things I do know that I sometimes wish I didn’t.’
