– They open a little later here?

Despite the cold, Leo’s shirt had become damp with perspiration.

– It would seem so.

As the door opened, Austin addressed the store manager:

– Good morning. How you doing today? My name is Jesse Austin. Don’t mind us, we’re just here to look around. Please go about your business as usual and I promise we won’t get in the way!

The manager turned to Leo, eyes wide and mouth open.

– Should I close the store for you?

Austin replied, taking control of the situation:

– Those people are waiting in the snow! Let everyone in. Don’t do anything different!

Cautiously, the shoppers trundled in, perplexed at the circumstances, forming a second line at the counter. Leo explained:

– In the other store you saw customers browsing. Here things are more disciplined. The customers tell the staff what they want. They pay and then collect the items.

Austin clapped his hands, pleased.

– I get it. It’s all about necessity! They shop for what they need, nothing more.

Leo mumbled his agreement.

– Exactly.

Reading the transcripts of Jesse Austin’s speeches and American interviews last night, Leo had encountered several heated exchanges where Austin had been accused of believing a falsified vision of Russia manufactured for gullible Westerners. The accusations had stung. He’d refuted the claims. But Leo was left with no doubt that Austin would be sensitive to his tour being overly managed. For this reason Leo and Grigori had spent the evening preparing several smaller stores close to the route of their itinerary. Leo had pre-empted the possibility of an impromptu visit. They’d alerted the managers and where possible they’d directed additional suphere Ato fill their shelves. He calculated that a polished version of reality might be more effective than an artificial model of perfection. Without the time to personally check every store their fate was in the hands of the store managers. Glancing from side to side, checking on the shelves, the state of the floors, he was relieved to see that the store was clean and reasonably well stocked. There was fresh bread and cartons of eggs. The customers were real, not hand-selected, and their good mood was entirely genuine as they marvelled at their luck, shopping on a day when there was so much choice.

The old woman at the front of the queue gleefully collected a carton of eggs. With the excitement of the purchase and the confusion of having MGB agents watch her, she lost concentration. The carton slipped from her grip, falling to the floor. Austin was the first to step up to help. Leo caught the store manager’s glance – there was fear in his eyes. Something was wrong. Reacting quickly, Leo ran past Austin, picking up the carton and checking inside. Instead of eggs, there were six small rocks.

Leo shut the carton, handing it back to the manager.

– They broke.

The manager’s hands were shaking as he took the carton. Austin called out:

– Hold on!

The manager stood, trembling. Leo imagined the six small rocks shaking inside the carton. Austin gestured at the elderly woman.

– She’s going to get another carton, isn’t she? Without charge?

Leo put his hand on the woman’s shoulder, imagining her disappointment when she arrived home to find herself the proud owner of six small rocks.

– Of course.

Most of the officials were outside, pressed up against the window, too scared to move, trying to keep some distance between themselves and what they presumed was the ongoing debacle. Gradually they plucked up the courage to step into the store, wearing brittle smiles. Austin was pleased.

– This is great, really great.

The shop visit had been a success. The official who’d suggested tea before did so again.

Austin shook his head.

– What is it with you and tea?

The officials laughed. Austin declared:

– I’m eager to see more. What’s next?

Next on the itinerary was a visit to Moscow University. Before an official could even begin to sell the idea, Austin had turned to Leo.

– Your girl is a teacher, you said?

Confused, Leo hesitantly replied:

– My girl?

– Your girlfriend? The one we were talking about. The teacher. Wouldn’t it be something to go see a school?

Moscow Secondary School 7 Avtozavodskaya

Same Day

Leo sat with his hands tight arund the steering wheel, furious at Austin for not understanding the danger that he’d placed him in. The man’s actions were naive – entirely foreign. Keen to prove his detractors at home wrong, he’d embarked on a programme of calculated sabotage, brushing aside their plans with the playfulness of a man who had no comprehension of the regime he flattered. It did not tolerate mistakes. Grave risks existed for the people organizing his trip, including Leo. Yet it hadn’t occurred to Austin that there would be consequences if he saw anything that didn’t chime with the idealized vision that the Kremlin wanted him to export to the United States. These attempts to duck the official preparations were little more than a game, evidenced by the way he’d whistled all the way to the Secondary School 7, where Lena worked.

Leo stared in dumb terror at Secondary School 7: a newly built box of classrooms supported on concrete legs. Fortunately there was no risk that the school building itself wouldn’t pass inspection. The officials were greatly relieved that their guest had chosen an institution they would have gladly picked themselves. The risk was solely on Leo’s shoulders. He’d lied. When he’d claimed Lena was the woman he loved, he’d presumed the lie would fold into the conversation, an irrelevance immediately forgotten. It had been intended to save him from the minor embarrassment of admitting that there was no one he loved and no one who loved him. Now he bitterly regretted his foolishness. Why couldn’t he simply have admitted that he lived alone? There was no way to wriggle out from the trap. Austin was intent upon visiting a school and he wanted to see one that couldn’t have been prepared in advance. Leo had set him up perfectly.

Stepping out of the car, he tried to think calmly, rationally, something he’d been unable to do for the past forty-five minutes. He knew that her name was Lena. He didn’t know her full name. He knew that she taught politics. Most important of all, he knew that she didn’t like him. His legs felt weak, like a condemned man walking to his execution. He weighed up the option of admitting the lie: he could stop the group and declare that he didn’t know Lena. He’d invented a relationship because he didn’t want to appear lonely. It would be a pitiful, humiliating confession. Austin would laugh it off, perhaps offering him some reassuring words about love. They could tour the school without visiting Lena. The officials would say nothing. Yet there was no question that Leo’s career would come to an end. At best he’d be demoted. More likely he’d be accused of deliberately undermining the opinion of a key ally of the Soviet Union. Since there was nothing to gain by admitting the lie it was better to play along with it for as long as possible.

It was lunchtime. Children were outside playing in the snow. Leo could use them to buy him some time, encouraging Austin to talk to the students while he slipped off and found Lena. He only needed a couple of seconds to prepare her. She didn’t have to do anything other than smile, answer questions and play along with his lie. She was smart, he was sure of that. She would understand. She would improvise.

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