January 10th

10.30pm

Our foster daughter, Katiya Kuryakin had a screaming fit today. It was especially shocking because it has never happened before. She is, for the most part, a good child. She is very possessive about her papa's affections, but considering he is all she has left in the world, coupled with the fact that she does not see him nearly as often as she would like, I guess that is understandable. I recall with our Poll that to discipline her whilst she was in that state did more harm than good, and merely added fuel to her fire. Therefore, with Katiya I did not even attempt to stop her or talk to her. I simply politely asked her to stop screaming, and when she did not, I took her to her papa's bedroom and instructed her to stay put until she had calmed down. I promised I would return to talk to her when she was ready to speak calmly.

I admit I felt terrible walking away from her, because in her case there seemed more to it than a simple case of childish temper tantrum. I asked Polly if Katiya had spoken to her about anything that she thought might have brought this on, but Polly was not very helpful. She demurred at first, but later had said that Katiya had complained a few times recently that it was not fair that Polly got to see her mama and papa all the time, but she only saw her papa once or twice in a month, and she didn't even have a mama any longer.

I think Polly was finding it hard to understand why Katiya should be so unhappy when she has Wint and I to take care of her, a foster sister to play with and share things with her, a large farm to live on and a huge bedroom with lots of toys to share. I asked Polly to try to imagine herself in Katiya's place; to try and imagine that she lost her family and her home, was adopted by Uncle Napoleon, but taken away to another country that spoke a different language because that was where he worked…and then Uncle Napoleon left her in the care of a strange family because he was going to be away too much to take care of her himself. Put in those terms, I think Polly started, for the first time, to get a glimpse of life through Katiya's eyes.

"Mom, is that why she doesn't like it when Uncle Illya lets me come when he takes her out?"

I nodded.

"Maybe I shouldn't ask any more then, mom."

I reassured her that it was fine to ask. That Katiya had to learn to share sometimes, and that Illya would always make sure that he and his daughter got privacy when they needed it. To let him decide. Poll was satisfied, but then I had to go upstairs and talk to Katiya.

To her credit, when I went in, she said she was sorry for screaming and asked me for a hug. I thanked her for saying sorry, and explained to her that the quickest way to get help if she was feeling bad or upset was to tell someone. To scream just makes other people cross. I asked her why she was screaming?

At first, she shook her head, but after some patient wheedling, it transpired that she had decided that her papa must be dead. He had promised, she told me, to call her in the evenings whenever he could, and he had never left it this long without calling her or at least sending her a message to say he loved her.

I had to think about that, and was quite astounded when I realized that it had been almost two months since we had heard a word from either Napoleon or Illya. No wonder the poor child was scared.

I reassured her the best I could, and reminded her that sometimes Mister Waverley sent them on missions that took a long time and were very secret, so that they would not be allowed to call or send any message in case their enemies found out. I promised her that in the morning I would call Miss Rogers, whom was our U.N.C.L.E point of contact with regards to Katiya, and ask her if there was any news. Katiya asked me to promise that I would make that call first thing the next morning, and when I promised, she gave me a watery smile and assured me that she would try and remember to come to me the next time she got frightened.

So, my dear diary, there ends the day. I might telephone Katiya's teacher too, just to put her in the picture and ask her to keep a discreet eye on her tomorrow at school. In fact, I think I will do that right now, before it gets too late.