Page 3 of Resistance
It was their secret game, trading useless, trivial information for reward. In their younger days Dottie had played along, knowing that Konstantin wasn’t always looking for fun, more hopeful that with persistence she would capitulate, be turned and pass on some very useful snippets from her job at the MOD. Dottie had no interest in espionage, those days were gone but she still enjoyed being pursued, and absolutely adored caviar and vodka even more.
Tapping her fingers on the table as Konstantin waited for her answer, she feigned a moment of consideration then put him out of his misery. ‘Okay, it’s a deal. Pie, mash and liquor on me. Usual place. So come on, it’d better be good.’
‘Are you sitting comfortably?’ Konstantin’s body shifted as he stared into the crowded restaurant, as if casually commenting on the meal they had just eaten or the weather, speaking in an almost theatrical whisper, his Russian accent more pronounced.
Dottie gave a nod, smiling at the question, one he’d first asked her sixty years before.
‘Then I will begin. It has come to my attention that later this evening, perhaps in the next few moments, someone is going to drop a rather large bomb.’
‘Dear God, where?’ This was not what Dottie was expecting and her hand whipped to her chest, stilling a fast-beating heart.
‘Here, in this very room.’ Konstantin was sounding more mysterious by the second.
Dottie instantly relaxed and felt a bit of a fool because if that were the case, Konstantin would be outside, watching the smoke from inside a diplomatic car at a very safe distance.
Dottie was, however, intrigued. ‘Konstantin, be serious, what on earth do you mean?’
Slowly, he turned to face her and there it was. The wicked grin and twinkle in his eyes she knew so well. He had something, she was sure. He was also enjoying getting one over on her and that meant only one thing; she wasn’t going to like it.
‘If my observations are correct, the young man by the bar, wearing the blue shirt that is clearly irritating his perspiring neck.’ Konstantin nodded and smiled when Dottie followed his direction.
She gasped. ‘Lachlan. Maude’s boyfriend. Is that who you mean?’
A jerk of the head then Konstantin continued. ‘The very same. Now, earlier, when I visited the men’s room, I came across young Lachlan muttering at his reflection in the mirror, perhaps reciting some lines. Before departing, he took a moment to check inside the telltale black box he had secreted in his pocket.’
Dottie’s hand flew to her neck. ‘No, he can’t be, please tell me you are winding me up, Konstantin. My Maudie’s only twenty-one and hasn’t even finished at The Slade. No, he can’t, I won’t allow it. She’s is far too young to be engaged especially to that idiot.’
Grabbing her empty shot glass, she slammed it back down on the table, doubly irritated. Hearing the rumble of laughter from Konstantin, she tutted in response, then asked, ‘What can we do, Konstantin, please, this is not remotely funny. I know, let’s have him deported, can you do that?’
‘Not to Australia, that boat sailed many moons ago and the Gulags are all booked up this time of year, so, my little Zaya, you may just have to let Maude make her own mistakes and maybe, if we are lucky, she will say no.’
Dottie was enraged. How could she have not known, or spotted that the long streak of useless Australian… beer, was going to propose? Her eyes locked on to Lachlan. At this precise moment, perhaps somehow warned of an incoming missile by his inner defence system, he appeared to shake off nerves and straighten his back before pushing away from the bar he was propping up.
‘Here we go,’ said Konstantin.
‘On no,’ said Dottie as she tracked Lachlan’s pathway through the crowd.
Marching purposefully towards Maude who was helping her mother give out cake, not bothering to excuse his interruption, Lachlan grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the small square of dance floor. Maude stood, looking bemused, but when Lachlan clapped his hands and asked for quiet, the room quickly fell to a hush. Dottie could do no more than watch as the colour simultaneously drained from poor Maude’s face. She knew.
By Dottie’s side, Konstantin lifted the bottle of vodka and filled two shot glasses, sliding one of them over. Reaching out, Dottie took the glass and while Jean and Ralph and the crowd looked on, Lachlan got down on one knee and Dottie downed her shot.
The guests were leaving in interminably slow dribs and drabs, and Dottie wished they would hurry so that she could go home and sleep off the vodka and maybe, when she woke up in the morning, Lachlan and his ridiculous proposal would be nothing but a terrible nightmare.
Poor Maude. Dottie knew her granddaughter was avoiding the inevitable chat, ever since she’d approached the table with Lachlan to receive congratulations. While Dottie’s response was polite but muted to say the least, Uncle Konki, Maude’s nickname for Konstantin ever since she had been a baby and unable to pronounce his name, was full of flourish and dramatic kissing.
Dottie tutted and erased the memory, then began impatiently tapping her feet. Konstantin had already left in the company of his minder who stood out like a sore thumb amongst the partygoers. She wished she’d asked them to take her home, perhaps a drive in a bulletproof car would’ve been prudent because once she told Maude exactly what she thought, shots might be fired.
Dottie was exhausted and not to mention quite tiddly, already wearing her coat and checking she had everything in her handbag when she felt a body slide onto the chair by her side. Tentatively, Maude took her hand.
‘Are you cross with me, Gran?’
A smile, quite genuine. ‘No, my darling, not at all. You did exactly as I would have expected and didn’t make a scene by rejecting such a ridiculous proposal. There was no need for a fuss or to send your mother into a meltdown, so well done. Now, all you have to do is work out how to let him down gently.’
At this point Dottie fixed Maude with a stare and waited for her granddaughter to drag her eyes away from the diamond ring on her left hand. When Maude finally found the courage to meet her grandmother’s gaze, Dottie’s next question sounded more like a fact.
‘I take it youaregoing to let him down, one way or another.’
At this Maude paled. Her fair skin was almost ashen while her smudged eyeliner made her look quite tragic. ‘I don’t know, I think so, I might… but how? It will break his heart and for some reason he’s got it into his head it’s what I wanted.’
