She lifted the lid off the box and a pair of green eyes regarded her.
Molly immediately burst into tears as she picked up a ridiculously small, ginger and white kitten. She sobbed into its fur, ‘I love you, oh, I love you.’
It was bizarre. Aleksey glanced at Radulf, who wasn’t making any effort to get loose and eat this odd thing from a box, and Radulf gave him adon’t ask meshrug back.
Considering it had been in a box for a while, and had then been produced in front of a vast roomful of people and two killer dogs, and was now being hugged to death and snotted over, it seemed remarkably calm and happy.
Molly took the kitten around so everyone could see it, but no one was allowed to touch it, apparently, until she brought it to him. He took it from her and held it up to his face. He sensed a deep animal cunning within it masquerading as helpless innocence. The kitten made a small noise and apparently this was so adorable and so perfect that everyone else in the room melted with pleasure. Molly took her kitten back and started to cry again. Aleksey wanted to point out to her that love was tricky and often painful, but instead asked her softly, ‘What are you going to call it,moye solnyshko?’
Ben corrected, ‘Her. It’s a little girl, Mol Mol, just like you.’
Just at that moment the last present but one appeared.
Emilia produced the final, tiny Matryoshka doll. No one but Molly seemed surprised that it was ginger and white and had green eyes. It seemed to fascinate Molly that anyone in the family was smaller than she was. But she watched with great attention as her new little wooden baby was put safely inside her. They were now six. Or four and two very small additional fractions.
Tim and Squeezy had bought a cat tower for this newest member of the family. They hadn’t done a very good job of wrapping or disguising it, but when Molly was persuaded to put the kitten on it, it seemed quite happy playing with the paper as much as the various bells and whistles it came with.
Fortunately for the cat, four year olds need sleep during the day. The animal got some respite from the carrying around and being so intensely loved that tears were Molly’s main way of communicating how happy she was for most of the morning.
When Aleksey was wandering out of the kitchen with a large slice of her birthday cake, which made an excellent brunch snack, he found her curled up on a sofa with the kitten still in her arms, the animal upside down and legs so floppily akimbo that it more resembled a stuffed toy than a live cat. They were both utterly dead to the world. He even lifted the cat to move it to its own cushion in case Molly rolled on it, and it just lay loose and limp and tiny in the palm of his hand.
Radulf, who was planning to help out with the cake, had his head on one side considering this new family addition with his sightless eyes. Aleksey lowered his hand and let the dog observe from closer quarters. He wondered what he’d tell Molly if Radulf ate it. The kitten was entirely oblivious to the threat. She was actually smaller than the dog’s nose.
Fortunately, Radulf decided the cake was more interesting.
Aleksey put the cat on the cushion on its back, arranged its floppy legs so they were crossed, just because he could, and then sat down to think about just how much Ben Rider-Mikkelsen brought to his life.
The homemade chocolate cake, he concluded, was the least of it.
* * *
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Aleksey woke one morning the following week with a sense of dread in his heart that he had not felt for a very long time. After pondering this unpleasant feeling for a while, he stretched out his arm and felt the solid warmth of Ben’s shoulder under his hand. Ben had apparently not gone for his run. This level of solidarity withhisplight humbled him. He felt quite maudlin about it and sighed deeply.
‘Stop it.’ Ben rolled over. ‘She’s only going to be four and a half hours away.’
Aleksey pouted.
‘Three and a half with me driving.’ This cheek came with a poke, but it was no good. Nothing could make this day any better.
They dressed and breakfasted—as if anyone could eat on such a day. The car was already packed: new bicycle and trunk.
Emilia arrived while they were putting on their jackets. It was a suit kind of day. Black. Funereal.
‘Have you said goodbye to everyone?’
‘I’ve said see you in a few weeks, yes.’
He nodded glumly. ‘Bronislav?’
‘Ben’s going to ride him for me so he won’t miss me.’
Oh, how the ones you love can cut you to the quick.
‘How was Babushka?’
‘Heading out for a ramble with her old fogies.’
