HOMESICK
Danny woke at 2 a.m., Moscow time.
He opened the heavy hotel curtains to reveal his room’s massive window and a panoramic view of Moscow, shrouded in darkness.
The city looked calm at night. There was a faint mist over the higher buildings that reminded Danny of home. Danny gazed at Moscow. Three buildings stood out. All three or four kilometres away. All tall. All looking like something out of a science fiction film – and lit up red.
Holt had told him about these buildings yesterday. They were called the Seven Sisters. Stalin – Russia’s most brutal leader – had built them as government buildings. The Ministry for Foreign Affairs and six others. All seven were made to look scary. The reason: to make sure people in Soviet Moscow would behave themselves.
Danny turned round and looked at his bed, the TV and the rest of his room. It was posh. Seriously posh. He wasn’t used to hotel rooms anyway, but this one was way over the top.
He felt out of sorts. Something wrong. If it hadn’t been 2 a.m. he would have called his dad.
One thing that hadn’t helped was that during the night he’d heard voices passing his door. Americans. Russians. French, maybe. The voices had made him feel uneasy. And the thought of going down into the hotel to have breakfast was worrying him. He wished he was at home. In his own room. So he could walk out of it and down the stairs to have a cup of tea with his dad before his mum and sister got up. Not among the hundreds of businessmen he had seen walking meaningfully down the corridors of this hotel as if they’d never had a moment’s doubt in their lives.
Then it occurred to Danny that Moscow was three hours ahead of the UK. So it would be 11 p.m. at home. Not 2 a.m. His dad would still be downstairs, making a drink for his mum before they went to bed. If he called now he could talk to Dad. Maybe Mum.
Danny grabbed his phone and dialled the code: 00 44. Then his home number, minus the zero at the beginning.
At first there was no sound. Then a loud click. Then a muffled ringing tone that was nothing like the ringing tone of the phone at home. He worried he’d called the wrong number. And that someone might be listening in.
‘Yeah?’
It was Emily.
‘Hello, Emily,’ Danny said.
‘Danny!’
It was weird. Emily had said his name like she was pleased to hear him. Danny was thrown and didn’t know what to say.
‘Danny?’ Emily repeated.
‘Hello,’ Danny said. ‘How’s it going?’
‘OK,’ Emily said. Her voice was a bit more guarded now.
‘How are Mum and Dad?’
‘Fine. What about Moscow? Is it rubbish?’
‘It’s great,’ Danny said. He felt like telling Emily that he felt a bit weird. And that maybe it was a bit rubbish. But he knew she’d jump on it: use it to get one over on him.
There was a silence. Then Emily piped up, ‘Have you passed on my good wishes to the Russian players? For the game.’
Danny grinned. This was more like it. Emily as he knew her.
‘Yeah,’ he replied. ‘They said you’re banned from Russia – for being a traitor to your own country.’
Emily said nothing.
‘Is Dad there?’ Danny asked.
‘Yeah.’
‘Can I talk to him? It’s two pounds a minute.’
‘Sorry!’ Emily sounded cross.
‘Nice though it is to talk to you,’ Danny added. Meaning it.
‘Yeah right,’ Emily said. And the line went quiet.
Danny looked outside again. Suddenly the sky was alight with huge snowflakes. It was thrilling. Danny felt like he did at Christmas.
‘Danny?’ It was Dad. ‘How’s it going?’
‘Great,’ Danny said automatically. It was good to hear his dad’s voice. He had a sudden sense that he missed his dad. Deeply.
‘What have you seen?’
‘Red Square. St Basil’s. The Kremlin.’ Danny reeled off a list of places. ‘And snow. It’s just started snowing.’
‘Red Square?’ Dad said, ignoring Danny’s reference to snow. ‘I’ve always wanted to go there.’
‘It’s just big, Dad. Everything’s big. Even the snowflakes.’
Dad paused. ‘Are you OK? You don’t sound that happy.’
Danny frowned. ‘It’s all right,’ he said. ‘I’m just a bit… I don’t know.’
‘That’s normal,’ Dad said. ‘You’re bound to feel that. It’s being away from home. But don’t let it stop you having a good time and seeing some things. Just accept you’ll feel weird. It’s a part of the fun of travelling.’
Danny paused, then nodded to himself. ‘OK,’ he said.
‘Is Anton looking after you?’ Dad asked.
‘Yeah. He’s been good. He has to work too. But he took me out for a tour.’
‘And did you start the book?’
Danny nodded again. ‘It’s great. But it’s making me think everyone’s a double agent. Everyone!’
Dad chuckled. ‘Even Anton?’
‘Yeah,’ Danny said. ‘Do you think…?’
‘Yeah, I’d watch him,’ Dad said.
Danny laughed. Then he said, ‘I’d better go. Is Mum there?’
‘She’s gone to bed already. Fast asleep.’
‘I’ll call later, then,’ Danny promised.
He put his mobile down. The call had cost him over six quid. But it was worth it.
He lay back on the massive double bed. What now?
He could go out for a walk. See what Moscow was like at this time of the morning. Learn a few words of Russian. Or he could watch BBC News 24.
He decided on the Russian. He leaned back on his pillow and looked at the guide to Moscow Anton had given him. All the journalists had one: how to speak basic Russian words, how to call a taxi, how to use the underground.
No was nyet – нет.
Yes, da – да.
Thank you, spasiba – спасибо.
There were lots of words to do with football.
Stadium was stadion – стадион.
Football manager was footbalniy myenyejyer – футбалный менеджер.
Autograph was avtograf – автограф.
Danny read the words, then said them aloud. He wanted to be able to use some of them. He thought it was polite to be able to say thank you, at least.
After a few minutes Danny felt tired. He put his guide down and set his alarm for 6 a.m. He’d have
