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right. You can say goodbye. Come with me.”
    â€˜They were loading men on to a truck. The soldiers had guns trained on them. I saw Boris, and the officer gave me a push and said, “Go on. But be quick.”
    â€˜Boris was handcuffed. There was a big bruise on his face. He couldn’t embrace me, so I just clung to him round the middle. “Look after yourself, kid.” I can hear him now. His voice was thick as if he wanted to cry. “I’ve got a present for you. It’s buried under my cot. It’ll make you rich, Yuri. Hide it. Don’t let anyone see it, or they’ll take it from you. Promise me?”
    I couldn’t take it in properly. He seemed to realize that because he said it all again. “Under my cot. It’s a treasure. Get it! Hide it!”
    â€˜They were separating us, pulling me away. They dragged him to the truck and he shouted back to me, “Think of me, kid. And do what I told you!” They were all loaded on to the truck and driven away.
    â€˜I went to Boris’s tent. It was empty. There was his camp bed, which I’d slept beside, on the floor, to be near him. And I dug underneath and found what he’d given me. Now you can open the box, Lucy.’
    She held it in both hands. The red stones and the delicate gold flashed in the bright Jersey sunshine. In the garden outside she heard the buzz of a lawnmower.
    â€˜The holiest Relic in Russia,’ he said. ‘It’s been revered by Ukrainians for a thousand years. It’s in our blood. We’ve been so close, Lucy. I’ve shared my dreams with you because one day I wanted to share this with you, too. I had it planned, and then I had this last attack. Russia is in turmoil. It’s the time for us to strike. I won’t live to do it, so you must take my place.’
    â€˜How can I?’ she whispered.
    â€˜I want you to go to Volkov in Geneva. Tell him about the Relic. Bring him and our people together. Kiss the cross, Lucy, and swear that you’ll do it!’
    She hesitated. He was a bad colour and his breathing was uneven.
    â€˜You’re the future,’ he said. The young have shown us all the way. The students in China who died for freedom, the Germans, the Romanians, our Polish brothers. The day Volkov returns to Russia with the Relic, the Ukrainians will rise and declare independence. And Communism will collapse. It’ll die from the heart, from Moscow. All the murdered millions will sleep easy in their graves.’
    â€˜I’ll do what you would have done,’ she said. ‘I swear it.’ For a moment she touched the big central stone of the cross with her lips.
    â€˜Thank you, my darling.’ Her father’s voice had sunk. ‘Get me some water … my pills …’
    She laid the cross back on its satin cushion in the box, made in her father’s factory, like the flooring that concealed the safe. She pressed the hidden mechanism and the cover closed over it. She realized that she was trembling.
    Her father had swallowed his tablet; his colour was less grey. ‘I’m tired,’ he said. ‘But now I’ll die a happy man. I’d like to rest now.’
    She helped him to the downstairs room that had been turned into a bedroom once he couldn’t walk upstairs. As he lay down, he raised his hand and stroked her face.
    â€˜I’m so glad I never had a son. There’s an old saying, “A daughter gladdens her father’s heart”. How true it’s been for me.’
    Ten days later he died.
    It was a private funeral. There’d be a requiem mass in the local Catholic church for his many friends in Jersey, but only a dozen came to the graveside. Like Lucy, the women were in mourning. It was their custom, and they cherished the old ways. One by one they came and kissed her, murmuring their sympathy. Then they came back to the house for the traditional funeral breakfast. Lucy didn’t weep; she