Chapter 5
Moscow had a good feel to it. Anna found that, although the city was new and unfamiliar, this was the place she should belong in. This felt like home. The people were very polite and the Russian men knew how to be smooth and interesting with their approach, and graceful in defeat. However, there were aspects to this city that Anna knew only she could feel. They walked passed the odd occasional nightclub and she felt an evil presence about them, and then they drove passed a power station in a taxi and she felt a reassuringly good presence from it. There were strange forces at work here in the hidden world of Moscow; forces that ordinary people could not see.
The winter night was soon beginning to draw in and the temperature was slowly dropping further towards -20°C. Even though it was only four o'clock in the afternoon, the sun had set and it was now feeling like late evening rather than late afternoon. They decided to return to the hotel and eat in the restaurant there after a glorious day of walking through the Russian snow. Anna took a seat by the window so she could still sit and watch the snow falling outside.
"Who's eating what then?" Sarah asked.
"Salad of some sort," Kate replied.
"Soup will do for me," Anna replied.
Anna was a little disappointed that it was a woman serving them, but there were only so many Russian men you could smile at in one day, and at least she set a good example for Kate in how to dress. Anna was content in having a spicy tomato soup with rice and a bit of chocolate fudge cake for afterwards. Once the woman left with the orders, Anna turned to look out of the window. She saw a rather smart, black sports car parked outside with two people standing outside; one a rather ugly skinny man with a furry white hat and the other an unattractive young woman with dark hair and far too much lipstick. Both of them had their eyes covered with sunglasses. Ann shuddered; there was something very unfriendly and dangerous about them.
Late, a familiar looking yellow van with a thick red stripe along it parked alongside the black car and three people came out. One was a large, stocky man with lots of curly black hair, the second a pretty blonde woman and the third a podgy man with stubble and a heavily receding hairline. Anna had seen him at Sheremetyevo 2 outside the trolley park. All three of them wore the same jacket, combats and dark glasses. They shared a brief, rather unfriendly conversation with the two outside the black sports car before turning away and entering the hotel.
"There are a lot of those yellow trucks around," Anna commented.
"What yellow trucks?" Sarah questioned.
"Like that one parked out there."
Anna pointed to it, her mother taking a good look.
"What about it?" Kate asked after looking herself.
"I've just seen a lot of them," Anna replied.
"Well I haven't seen any."
"The taxi driver said they belonged to an electricity company."
"Then they're a bit like the British Gas vans back home," Sarah suggested.
"Possibly."
The three people who turned up in the yellow van came into the restaurant and queued up behind the other people who didn't stay in the hotel. Anna watched them closely as they took off their sunglasses to observe the room. All of them were looking at the same spot and Anna turned round to see what they were looking at. There was a thin man at the far end with long, greasy blonde hair and a tooth brush moustache; quite unattractive at that. What would electricians want with him?
From the kitchen, a short man with mousy brown hair dashed over to the three electricians and spoke to them very briefly. After a hurried conversation, he led them into the kitchen through the swinging doors and out of sight. Anna turned back round in her chair, quickly glancing out of the window and seeing that the sports car had gone, leaving the yellow truck on its own.
"I saw those three men at the airport," Anna stated.
"The ones who went in the kitchen?" Sarah asked.
"Yeah. The well built chap and the woman were sat at a table outside a pub in Sheremetyevo 2 with two other men, but they're not here. The short podgy one was outside a yellow truck near the trolley park; I remember chatting him up whilst I was putting the trolley back."
"Did you say they were electricians?"
"The taxi driver said the van was from a company, yes."
"Well then, they'll be checking the meters or something."
Anna had to reassure herself that that was the case as they ate dinner. But why would electricians reading a meter or something would be interested in a lonely chap sitting in a hotel restaurant? And why would they have an apparent dislike towards attractive people in nice cars? There was something strange going on and she was determined to find out what. And was this also to do with the man who wanted to find her at Heathrow, and then at Sheremetyevo 2?
After filling themselves on well made and interesting Russian food and desserts, they left for their rooms. Anna saw the truck driver standing on a step ladder fiddling with one of the light bulbs. He glanced down at her and smiled, winking at her briefly, she smiling back.
"Hello again!" he exclaimed.
"You said I'd see you soon," Anna replied.
"Of course! These crap hotel lights are always breaking."
"You're an electrician."
"It's my job to get the lights to work. And drive the vans."
"Do you fix the heating too?"
"No, different department. Good day?"
"It's a very nice city you have here."
"Excellent! Good night."
She waved goodbye to the podgy electrician, leaving for the upstairs where her room was on floor three. Sarah and Kate had already gone, so she'd better get back before her sister went to sleep and wouldn't open the door. Once she got outside, she knocked on the room door, Kate letting her in. Anna took one of her plastic cups, filled it up with fresh cold tap water and stirred in some drink mix. After she started drinking this, she found she felt healthier and less likely to become ill.
"What was so attractive about that electrician?" Kate asked.
"He had a pleasant face," Anna replied.
"I wouldn't get too worried about those yellow vans."
"Hmm, perhaps not."
Kate switched her light off and got into bed. Anna sighed and drank the rest of the protein drink, washing out the plastic cup and leaving it to dry on the side of the sink. She observed the thermostat, noticing that Kate had turned it up to 25°C. Anna smirked and turned it back down to 14°C and wondered over to the window. She peered out from behind the curtain, watching the three electricians cram into the yellow van and driving away. It looked like that was all they were, but something about that thought was not satisfying as she went to sleep.
Anna woke up about seven o'clock the next day. She yawned and sat up, looking over and seeing that Kate was still sound asleep; she wouldn't be getting up for another two ours or so. It wad dark outside, but breakfast was served from six through to ten, mainly in case people needed to get up early for flights. Anna got out of bed and dressed silently, suppressing a stomach rumble so as not to wake her sleeping sister. She tidied herself up briefly before leaving the room, taking the key with her. She stood and waited for the lift, stepping into it and joining a lone man who looked Italian; fairly long dark hair, dark eyes and very prickly stubble.
Anna smiled as he moved aside to let her in, blushing slightly as the doors slid shut. He glanced down at her and smiled, Anna retuning it and forcing her face no to redden further. She found herself fighting off images of what kind of body was hidden beneath that fitted, Italian suit he wore, instead returning her thoughts to the kind, pleasant face of the Russian electrician. They got out of the lift on the ground floor, the man allowing Anna to get off ahead of him. She hurriedly entered the hallway and headed over to the restaurant, but was stopped by the man she saw in there yesterday evening; the man with the blonde hair.
"So you're the one they're after," he stated.
"Sorry?" Anna queried, confused.
"You've finally come back to your routes."
"I don't know what you mean."
"The Night Watch wants you and so do we."
"What is the Night Watch?"
"You'll know when the time comes, for it comes for all Others eventually, even ones like yourself. All people, even of semi Russian heritage return home to the motherland. It's in your blood; your instinct. You were not born in your true country, but now you have returned to make your choice."
"My father's English."
"Really, Anna Smith?"
She paused and stared at him.
"How do you know my name?"
"I know, that is all," he replied.
"Who are you?"
"A friend or an enemy; that depends on you."
"Hmm, a nutter more like."
"What blood group is your sister?"
"How should I know?"
"Pity. Ah well, there are ways to find out."
He turned away and walked off, absently singing some strange Russian song to himself. Anna blinked and stared after him until he disappeared upstairs. That was weird. Her seemed to think she was Russian; perhaps he was mistaking her for someone else. But he knew her name. She shook her head; that man was starting to worry her.
"Was that man bothering you?" asked a deep, male voice.
Anna jumped and turned round to see who had spoken to her. Surprisingly, it was the good looking man in the lift; his nice accent highlighting her original assumption of him being Italian.
"Not really," she replied.
"I cannot speak Russian," he noted.
"I can, and I didn't catch onto him!"
"You seemed a little worried."
"Hmm, more for him that me!"
"So long as you feel you're alright."
He shrugged and flashed her a smile that would knock stars out of the sky. Anna watched him walk away into the restaurant, observing each, streamlined step he took and imagined the rippling of his muscles beneath the suit. She shook her head and returned to reality; that was not a good thing to think about before breakfast. She went in after a while, helping herself to some cereal, purposely not looking out for the Italian businessman in case he cast his spell on her again. It was unusual though that each time she thought about it, the pleasant face of that electrician came into her mind.
Anna sat down by the table by the window, seeing a bit of sunlight threatening to rise above the buildings and break the winter night. She glanced at her watch; it was now approaching eight o'clock. This time, there was no black sports car and now yellow van parked outside. As the time continued to fly by and no strange things occurred, a few moments seemed to feel ordinary; but the holiday was far from over and she knew from all the things she could do that she was far from ordinary. She hid her head in her hands; the electricians were after that blonde haired man; and he said people were after her. But that wasn't all he'd hinted at. He said her father wasn't English; it may be hit or miss, but she needed to ask questions.
As though thinking about that willed an opportunity to arise, Sarah walked into the restaurant, Kate presently absent. Even if her younger sister was awake, it would take her ages to get out of bed and get dressed. Anna watched as her mother took some toast and jam, followed by some fruit and brought it down to the table. It was now or never; she needed to know.
"You look troubled," Sarah commented.
"I am," Anna replied, simply.
"Yellow trucks again?"
She shook her head. "Who's my father, mum?"
"You know who he is…"
"I mean my real father."
Sarah sighed and hung her head briefly before looking back up at her daughter, seeing the defiance and the determination in her eyes. Then there was realisation; she couldn't keep hiding the facts any longer.
"I guess you should know," she said eventually.
"Go on," Anna encouraged her.
"It should have never happened, but I guess you can say that about everything that has gone wrong. About 22 years ago, I came to Moscow on a business trip with work; I even stayed in this hotel. We all went for a drink one night and I got a bit friendly with one of the Russian barmen. Perhaps a little too friendly. When I came home, and found out I was pregnant about three weeks later, I had no idea if you'd be his child or not. The moment your hair began to grow dark, I knew that was right. That was the reason the divorce happened."
"Did you love him? I mean the Russian barman."
"There was something about him, yes."
"Can I at least see him?"
"If he still works there, of course."
"Maybe he needs to see you again."
"No, our final goodbye wasn't exactly nice."
"How so?"
"I told him never to contact me and never to try and see me and that he should have never been in my life. You see, I loved both your father and Kate's father, but only one could be in my life and I decided it had to be the man I fell in love with first. In the end, I lost both and only I can be blamed for that. I could never force either of them to take me back."
"Did you regret it?"
Sarah sighed a shook her head.
"There's no point," she answered. "It happened."
"So much for recessive genes then," Anna noted.
"You're taking this so well."
"I always did have suspicions."
"What brought it up?"
"Just a quick thought."
In the end, Kate showed up and headed over to the table, carefully picking up a few portions of fruit before joining Anna and Sarah. A few strands of her hair had been left damp after washing it and she had not yet bothered to straighten it. Clearly Sarah had told her off for taking too long to get changed.
"You were up early," Kate remarked.
"I'm not one for sleeping in," Anna replied.
"Smiled at anyone today then?"
Anna's thoughts trailed back to the Italian man in the lift.
"Yes of course," she replied.
"Magnet," Kate mumbled.
"We'll need to get ready straight after breakfast," Sarah cut in.
"Are we going out already?"
"Anna needs to meet someone."
"Who does Anna need to meet here in Moscow?"
Sarah paused. "Her father."
"I knew her father wasn't the same as mine! Not all that biology crap."
"The biology stuff is true," Anna stated. "But clearly not in my case."
"How come Anna's father is Russian?"
Sarah sighed. "It's a long story Kate, but it does explain how your father and I got divorced so quickly. I had an affair with a Russian, unfortunately got pregnant from him, I hoped the child would be your father's, but that didn't work out. It was after you were born that we divorced when we found out through medical tests that he wasn't the biological father."
"Why didn't you tell us?"
"Anna wasn't really ready to know."
"Moscow was calling to me," Anna mumbled.
Sarah glanced at her daughter. "You really think that."
Anna nodded. Yes, she believed that Moscow had called to her, but not for the simple reason that her father was actually Russian. Something here held the answer to her question about her abilities, and it may be her father; but her mother would never know that was the real reason.
