The Old Enemy by Henry Porter (read with me .TXT) 📕

He got up and went inside to fetch beers from the mini-bar. When he handed her one, she said, ‘I’m not going to sleep with you.’

‘How do you know I want to?’

‘It’s the only way it works between us.’

He shook his head. ‘I’m sorry you think that and, anyway, it’s totally untrue.’

‘Okay, I’m sorry. Bed is always out of this world. You know that. And it’s always a temptation. But I can’t while my husband is in a coma. He saved me and I can’t betray him again. That’s just how it is.’

‘Really, it’s no big deal.’ He stopped to sip the beer. ‘I love you and, to be honest, that is a big inconvenience in my life, but I get you don’t want to and you don’t have to mention it again.’

‘Fuck off,’ she said, and smiled.

He looked over the city’s roofs towards Alexander Nevsky Cathedral. ‘If you want me to try to run this, I will. But I’ll do it my way, even though I’m not sure what that will be.’

Without warning, she said, ‘I was pregnant. I lost the baby. It was from our last time together. Our baby. I had a miscarriage and I went to pieces. That’s why I didn’t call. Denis got me through it, although he must have known it was yours. He was magnificent, and I will never forget what he did for me. That’s why . . . that’s why we can’t just hop into bed, like old times. I hope you understand, Samson.’

Samson’s mother appeared in his mind: she had so wanted him to have a family with Anastasia, and before her death was endlessly pleading with him to win Anastasia back and marry her. ‘I’m so sorry. I’m sorry that I wasn’t there for you. I wish . . . I had no idea.’

‘What could you have done? Really, there was nothing. It is the way things are with us. Bad timing. I understand that now.’

‘I wish you’d told me.’

‘What would have been the point, to make you feel bad and helpless? Besides, I couldn’t talk about it. I had a breakdown, Samson. Me, the damned psychologist, with a breakdown! I was out of it. Being kidnapped and shot didn’t help – that all came out. The shock, the terror, the sleepless nights. Classic PTSD, and losing the baby sent me crazy. Actually, I can’t remember which was first, the miscarriage or the breakdown.’

He leaned forward, shaking his head, and took her hand. He began to say something but ended up again muttering that he was sorry.

‘It’s not your responsibility, and I know you did try to contact me. It was two years ago, and I recovered. I am myself again.’ She made a dramatic flourish, as though taking a bow. ‘But all that – the miscarriage and my breakdown – is why Denis didn’t tell me that he was going after Mila Daus. I didn’t even know her name until today. You see, he really does care for me and he didn’t think I could take any more pressure. Turns out he was wrong about that – I seem to be okay after being chased by carloads of killers through two countries. Actually, three, if you count Macedonia.’

‘I want to hear about Macedonia.’

‘It was delightful. The farm is as it was, but there’s a new barn that I suspect Denis paid for. There’s much more to say, but I really have to sleep. Can I crash on your bed? I really can’t say another word more.’

He led her to the bed and they lay down and he held her.

‘Even this seems wrong,’ she said. She wriggled round and looked up from his chest. ‘I know you love me, Samson. I understand.’ She turned again and wrapped his hand around her breast. You don’t mind, do you?’

‘No, I don’t mind.’

She closed her eyes and was immediately asleep.

‘I’ll wake you in a couple of days,’ he murmured.

At 5.35 p.m. Anastasia’s phone went off. She raised her head from the bed then let it fall back, wrapping an arm across her eyes and groaning. She felt much worse than when they had lain down. Samson pulled his arm from beneath her and shook the circulation into his hand. ‘Maybe you should see who called.’

She groaned. ‘Water.’

He went to fetch a glass from the bathroom. ‘I’ve just had a message from Warren Speight’s office,’ she said on his return. ‘They want me to appear in front of Congress within the next seven days.’

He absorbed this. ‘They surely can’t question you on Denis’s affairs when he’s lying in the bloody hospital?’

She shook her head and dialled Jim Tulliver.

‘What’s going on, Jim?’

‘They just called. The committee want you there Friday or Monday.’

‘What are they going to ask me? I know nothing.’

‘Speight is pushing for it. Did he give you any idea he was going to do this?’

‘None.’

‘Well, I guess you just go along and say you can’t answer questions on things you don’t know about.’

‘He kind of trapped me with all that schmoozing, and I thought he was on our side and wanted not to persecute Denis. I don’t understand. He went on about what was in the lawyer Steen’s briefcase – you remember that? Said there was something in it to be used in extremis and asked did I know what it was.’

‘Well, I think you should come back anyway. Denis is frail, but they think he’s out of danger and his heart appears to be beating normally so that’s good news. I’ll talk with the lawyers, and we can get a damn great wall built around you. You go in and you say you would of course be honoured to help the committee, but since you had your own life and your own problems, how can you respond on things that you don’t know about? That kind of thing. We’ll get a statement drafted.’

‘But I do know how much money we spent on relief and medical aid. And maybe I can give evidence to support that. Shall I