“And when they know more will they change their thinking?”
“I don’t know, Tania. I want them to at least have the chance to think again.”
She shook her head, but she was smiling as she stood up. “I must go.”
“We’ll take a taxi.”
“You don’t have to bother.”
He laughed. “Shall I stamp my foot and say—don’t be so grateful?”
She smiled. “You’re learning, my boy, you’re learning.”
On the Saturday night Aarons had ordered champagne to toast Serov and his bride-to-be, and Tania had been amused to see him sipping the champagne as if it were hemlock.
They had been to the club a number of times and she had taught him a couple of simple dance steps so that they could shuffle together round the small dance-floor when the jazz was converted into “Smoke Gets in Your Eyes” or Gershwin’s “Fascinating Rhythm” done as a foxtrot.
Sam was playing a solo while the other four went for a beer and he was in the last few minutes of “Rhapsody in Blue” when Serov said, “I don’t believe it.” He was looking at a couple standing by the hat-check girl’s small counter. Aarons and Tania followed Serov’s eyes. He turned to Aarons. “That’s the guy who was my boss in Occupied France, and that’s his wife Kathy. I didn’t know he was interested in jazz.” Aarons looked at the couple and then back at Serov’s face. “Do you want to ask them over for a drink?”
“Are you sure you don’t mind?”
“Of course I don’t.”
“Angie’s never met him. That would be great.”
He stood up, pushing back his chair, waving at the couple as they stood at the top of the steps that led down to the tables. Serov walked over to them and they stood there talking for a few minutes and the man looked over at them as Serov pointed to their table. The man smiled and nodded then followed Serov who introduced them, Tania, Angela, Anna and Aarons. Two extra chairs were found and another bottle of champagne. Aarons noticed that Bill Malloy barely touched his champagne.
There was much chatter about Serov’s and Malloy’s time together in France but no mention of Serov’s defection or what had happened to them when they had been taken by the Germans.
Sam came over and after the introductions had taken the girls and Serov to meet the rest of Sam’s quintet in the bar.
Malloy said, “Are you a jazz buff, Andrei?”
Aarons smiled. “I’m afraid not. I come because of my brother-in-law.”
“Igor tells me you’re a specialist bookseller. What kind of books do you sell?”
“I used to have a shop in Brighton Beach and then it was mainly books in Russian and Polish. Novels, politics, history. And some in Hebrew. But now I’m in Manhattan it’s mainly rare books, old books. And they cover all sorts of subjects. Religion, sermons, science, politics.” He smiled. “They make a lot more money than the others.”
“I gather you and Igor more or less grew up together in Paris.”
Andrei smiled. “Tania says we still haven’t grown up. I suppose Paris was a good place to be young in.”
“My memories of Paris aren’t so pleasant. I was in prison there after the Germans rounded up my network.”
“Have you been back?”
Malloy shook his head. “No.” He smiled, embarrassedly. “I guess if I’m truthful I didn’t much like the French. I didn’t like them before I went and I liked them even less when it was over.”
“Why was that?”
“They seemed to expect everyone else to liberate them but complained that their country was damaged in the process.”
“And Serov?”
“He wasn’t French, he was Russian. He taught me a lot.”
“About what?”
Malloy smiled. “Communism for a start. Like most Americans I hated the idea of Communism but when I listened to Serov and his friends talking politics they sounded just like my father.”
“Was he a communist?”
Malloy laughed. “Maybe he was, but he certainly didn’t know it. He was just a working man who cared about other working men.”
“What do you do, Mr. Malloy?”
“It’s Bill.” He shrugged. “I’m a partner in a law-firm here in Manhattan.”
“What kind of law do you do?”
“Mainly trust funds and evaluating government contracts with major industries.”
“Do big companies try to cheat the government?”
Malloy smiled, wryly. “Let’s say they sometimes try to build in what we refer to as non-appropriate allowances.”
Then the others came back to the table. They stayed chatting for another hour then Malloy and Kathy left and shortly afterwards Tania and Aarons left.
They walked down Fifth Avenue to 41st Street and Aarons’ place. She linked her arm in his as they walked.
“What did you think of Serov’s friend?”
“Seemed a nice enough guy. What was his wife like?”
“Not so solemn as he was. But obviously thinks he’s something special.”
“And what did you think of Serov’s girl?”
She laughed. “Angela? She’s just what he needs. Pretty, lively, warm and typically American.”
“What’s typically American?”
“Optimistic, cheerful. Pleased with life. Haven’t you noticed that Igor is getting to be quite human these last few times we’ve seen him?”
As they waited for the lights at 45th Street he turned her towards him and put his hands on her shoulders as he looked at her face.
“Why do you bother with me?”
For several moments she looked back at him and then she said quietly, “Because, Andrei Grigorovich Aarons, I don’t bother with you—I love you.”
He was silent for a few moments, then he said, “I can’t believe it.” He shrugged. “I wish it was true.”
“It’s true, my love. I liked you the first time we met but it’s much more than just liking now.”
She saw tears in his eyes then he rested his head on her shoulder. Her hand gently stroked his neck. When he lifted his head he was smiling, and she kissed him
