He smiled. “What’s that mean?”
“They become fanatics. They aren’t interested in people any more or what’s going on in people’s lives. People are just targets. For them it’s still 1917. They don’t realise that ordinary people, however committed to the Party they are, have to live their lives. They fall in love, they have tragedies, deaths and illnesses, problems in their work, debts and so on.” She smiled. “You’re too special to be allowed to become a Party hack. We need people with imagination like you to lead us or we end up with nothing to show for the revolution but discussion groups and agitators.”
“What makes you think I’m so special?”
She looked away for a moment at the people passing by on the pavement, and then back at him.
“Tell me. Would you be prepared to tell a lie to make a Party point, knowing it was a lie and knowing that the person or persons you were lying to would believe it because it was you who was saying it?” She laughed. “Not very clearly explained. But you know what I mean.”
He smiled. “The answer’s—no. I wouldn’t knowingly tell a lie to make a Party point. But that would be because when the people in Moscow do something that seems contrary to Party thinking it’s because they have a good reason for doing whatever it is.”
She laughed. “You should have been a teacher, Andrei. Or maybe a priest.”
He shrugged. “Maybe I could do more for the Party as a teacher or a priest.”
“Serov says you’re already marked down as a top man in the Party.”
“Tell me about Serov. How well do you know him?”
“He’s got a sort of watching brief for Moscow. Reports on people. Speaks French perfectly. His mother was French. He’s very shrewd. Spends a lot of time with the unions. Covers all of France and Belgium for Moscow Centre.”
“Is he Comintern?”
“That’s what he says.”
“What do you think?”
“I think he’s a spy.” She smiled. “You are too, aren’t you.”
“I’m not sure. My orders were that I was Comintern.”
“But you had intelligence training, didn’t you?”
“Who told you that?”
“Serov.”
“He talks too much.”
She laughed. “He’s a sucker for pretty girls. Wants to impress.”
“Did he impress you?”
“No. He’s not my type.”
“What’s your type?”
She grinned. “Like in American films—I plead the Fifth and don’t answer.”
He opened his mouth to speak and then closed it and said nothing.
“What were you going to say?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Tell me.”
“Let’s leave it.”
“I know what you were going to say so you might as well say it.”
“What was I going to say?”
“You were going to say that you like me.”
“How did you know?”
She smiled. “You’re really rather an innocent, Andrei Aarons. I know you like me. And I like you too.”
“Why do you like me?”
“Because you’re a nice man. And a modest man. You’ve got great talents but you don’t realise it. I feel safe with you.”
“I don’t just like you, Chantal. I love you. I loved you the first time I saw you. And I’ve loved you more every day that’s gone by. I feel safe with you too.”
Despite dire warnings from Serov that it would dilute his efforts as a Comintern organiser they had married two months later. Andrei had been surprised at the large number of people who crowded into the mairie to see them married and even more surprised that there was a telegram of congratulations from Lensky in Moscow.
In September 1937 he had a message from Moscow instructing him to go to Berlin for a discussion with Lensky.
They had met in a small hotel on Kantstrasse and Lensky had brought a silver-framed mirror for Anna and a watch for Ivan. Then he settled back in his chair and looked at Andrei.
“Our people in Spain and here in Berlin said that you were so convincing about the need for Trotsky and the others to be exiled that the waverers were completely satisfied. How long did it take you to decide what to say?”
“I had already had to do the same thing in Paris the day I got back from Moscow so I was used to the questions and the arguments.”
“Yes, but how did you work out what to say?”
Andrei shrugged. “I didn’t have to work anything out. If a man, no matter how important he is, wants to divert away from the Party’s commitments then he must be stopped. We haven’t the time or the energy for polemics and dilettante discussions of alternatives. We have decided what our aims are and how to achieve them, and those who want to deviate are enemies of the people.” He paused. “I consider that sending them into exile was the least that could be done.”
“You never have doubts?”
“No. Never. The time for doubters is long gone. We want action now, to make a dream come true. Not only for us but for the whole world. Nothing matters but that.”
“I wish we had a thousand like you, Andrei.”
“They are there, Comrade Lensky. They only need to be trained. Lenin and Marx laid down the pattern to revolutionise the world. Comrade Stalin is making it happen.”
“Does your Chantal share your views?”
“Of course. The whole family do.”
Lensky looked towards the window and then back at Andrei. “What I am going to tell you is only between you and me. Is that understood?”
“Of course.”
“We want you to move. You and the family. We want you to move to the United States. And we want you to move in the next two months.” He sighed. “There is very clear evidence now that the Nazis intend harassing all Jews. That’s why we sent you the false passport. In some places it has already started. Jews are being publicly humiliated and in some cases murdered.”
“But I’m usually in Paris, comrade. I’m only here in Germany for one or two days at a time.”
“I know. I know.”
Lensky stood up and walked to the window, looking out for long moments before he turned to look back at Andrei.
“The
