Chapter thirty-three

March 1983

Irina hurried across campus to the lecturers' parking area. She held onto her bag tightly, thinking of the envelope inside it, and quickened her pace. She'd wanted to cry when the doctor showed her the sonogram; in that moment all she'd thought of was Nadia, and she had been filled with the fear that the ghost of Nadia would always be between her and the new baby.

She could barely remember the lecture she'd just given, and was thankful she'd decided to end it earlier than usual. She just wanted to go home.

"Miss Pavlova!" someone called. There were footsteps behind her. "Professor!"

Irritated, she glanced back over her shoulder. She didn't recognize the student from any of her classes. "I can't talk now," she said. "Consultation times are on my office door."

"Irina!"

She stopped, her mind racing. Should she stay and fight? She could incapacitate him and run – maybe she could get home in time to warn Jack. She was unarmed, but her bag was heavy enough to use—

"I have something for you," the man said.

She turned to study him more closely. Tall, dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt, shaggy blond hair, he looked every inch the student. There was a trace of a Russian accent in his voice, and Irina thought, KGB.

"I'm sorry, I think you have the wrong person."

He smiled. "Irina Derevko." He came closer. "Don't worry. I'm not here to blow your cover. I've come to help you."

"I don't want anything from you."

"Not yet, anyway." He held out the satchel he'd been carrying, and Irina noticed a strange tattoo at the base of his thumb. A circle, two diagonal lines meeting at a point on either side. She'd seen it before but couldn't remember where. "Tell me, have you ever heard the name Milo Rambaldi?"

"No. Sorry." She turned away.

He grabbed her arm, forcing the satchel upon her. "Then you need to look at this."

With that, he left, and Irina remained in place for a long time afterwards.

"It sounds like it's supposed to be some kind of prophecy," Irina said, holding a yellowed page up to the light. The satchel she'd been given contained dozens of pages, none of which made much sense to either Irina or Jack.

"About what?"

"I'm not sure."

Jack scowled at the page he held. "I don't like this. A random man who knows your name – you said he was Russian?"

"I think he was. He spoke in English, but . . ." She shrugged. "What do you think? Is it time to move?"

"Might be a good idea." Jack looked up and caught her gaze. "I won't lose you again."

"You won't." She smiled, and turned her attention back to the parchment. "He said he wanted to help, and then gave me this."

"Do you think he actually expected you to believe in this nonsense?"

She shrugged.

"Do you believe it?"

Irina thought for a moment, then put the page down and moved closer to Jack. She took his hand, turned it so his palm was facing upwards, and lightly traced the lines on it. Then she threaded her fingers through his, and squeezed his hand. "I thought I was destined to live the rest of my life without you and Sydney. You changed that. Destiny isn't fixed. Prophecies don't always come true."

"The woman in this picture—"

"Could have been me. Maybe if we'd never met, or you hadn't come back." She smiled. "I believe in you, in us. Who cares what a man who's been dead for a couple of centuries thinks?"

He kissed her. "So what are you going to do with this?"

"Burn it."

Jack shoved the pages off the bed, then pulled Irina down on top of him. "I take it everything went well with the doctor?"

"Oh, I completely forgot!" Irina freed herself from Jack's embrace, and crossed to the room to where her bag lay. "I have something for you."

Jack sat up, leaning against the headboard, and waited for her to return. She handed him a large manila envelope and grinned.

"Open it."

He pulled out a sonogram image, then looked up at Irina. "It's our baby."

"Jack, I—" Irina covered her belly with her hand. She didn't know how to explain her fear to Jack. "I miss Nadia," she said eventually.

"Come here."

She curled up next to Jack and they sat in silence for a while.

"This baby isn't a replacement for Nadia," he said.

"How would you feel if it was a girl?"

"I would love her as much as I love Sydney, as I love Nadia, as I'll love any other children we might have one day." He kissed her forehead. "It wasn't your fault Nadia died."

"The doctor told me she thinks it's a boy." Irina closed her eyes and leaned closer to Jack. "And I was so relieved when she said that, and I hate myself for feeling that way but—"

"Shh." He kissed her again, this time on the mouth. "It's okay, Irina."

She wanted to believe him.

"Maybe we can call him Alex."

"Alex?"

He brushed his fingers over her belly. "Alexander."

She thought of her brother, laughing as the three girls chased him in the snow.

"Unless – I'm sorry. I don't want to make it more painful for you. I just thought—"

"We always called him Sasha," she said. "Never Alex."

"We can—"

"Alexander Bristow. Alex Bristow." She smiled. "I like it."

His laugh was shot through with relief. "Technically, it'll be Alex Lewis."

Her smile faded. "If we're still here by then."