The Half Truth(52)

‘I could not tell you. If I did, then you could be implicated if it all went wrong,’ said Sasha. ‘I was protecting you. The less you knew, the better it would be.’

Tina didn’t know if that was true or not. Would that argument stand up in a court of law? She had no idea. She didn’t say anything, but waited for him to continue.

‘Everything went well with the deli. You know that. We were busy. We had lots of customers. All that was real, that was true. We had a good life together, didn’t we?’

His arm rested on the back of the bench and his fingers stroked her shoulder. Tina wanted to pull away but she couldn’t. They were so happy together in London. They laughed. They loved. They enjoyed life. They were in their own cocoon. They hadn’t needed anyone else. Sasha and Tina, an independent unit; they functioned as one. Well, that’s what she believed. But in the end it had been a lie.

Tina felt the tears sting her eyes. Sasha’s touch stirred up such conflicting emotions. She buried her face in his arm and allowed him to draw her towards him. She had grieved for him and now she was grieving for their past. The past that had only been a half-truth.

‘What went wrong?’ she said, lifting her eyes now the latest round of tears had abated. She felt exhausted. She needed to know. She couldn’t walk away and not know the truth.

Sasha held her hands. His palms were rougher than she remembered, his nails shorter, the skin around the tips of his fingers jagged and torn.

‘I have much more manual work to do these days,’ he said, answering her unspoken question. Tina thought how they used to do that a lot. Be able to anticipate each other’s words. Finish the other one’s sentences. A single look between them could share the amusement of something they had seen, no words needed. They had been good together.

She caressed his hands with her fingers. She wanted to kiss them better. To kiss away the present and the nightmare she was an unwillingly part of. She looked long and hard into his eyes and, with unspoken words, urged him again to continue.

‘What went wrong?’ he repeated. ‘Pavel went wrong.’

Tina knew how much it was hurting Sasha. He adored his older brother. Sasha looked up to Pavel with a reverence reserved for the best of church-goers.

‘He got greedy. Got himself involved in some bigger fish.’

‘The Porboski gang.’

‘I did not know at first, I swear to you,’ said Sasha. ‘But I found out. I told him it was dangerous, that we were out of our depth. But, you know Pavel, he would not listen. He had a taste of life in the fast lane and he was not slowing down. He became involved with armed robbery.’

Tina sucked in a deep, salty breath of air. ‘And you?’

Sasha shook his head vehemently. ‘No. Well, not at first. I did not want to become involved in anything like this. I had you to think about. How could I put you in that position? Put you at risk? You were the most precious and pure thing in my life and I would not risk it for something as dangerous as that.’

‘But not precious and pure enough to stop you money-laundering,’ said Tina.

‘I kept you out of that. Why do you think I never let you become involved with the finances of the deli? I did not even like you handling any of the cash. I did not want you even touching what was not true.’

He was right. He had always done the cash-handling himself. She hadn’t questioned it at the time. It was his business and seemed only natural that he would want to deal with the banking.

‘It still doesn’t make it okay,’ she said.

‘I know.’ He dropped his head for a moment and pinched the bridge of his nose between his finger and thumb, a gesture he always made when under pressure. Tina quelled the ripple of sympathy this evoked within her, countering it with thoughts of his ultimate betrayal.

‘You have a son,’ she said at last, her voice so quiet, she could barely hear it herself. ‘He’s called Dimitri.’

‘Dimitri. It is a good name,’ said Sasha.

She looked down at her hands, blinking back the tears gathering in her eyes. This was so hard. They were talking about their son and, yet, only one of them knew him. It just shouldn’t be like this.

‘He’s a good boy,’ she said.

‘Like his mother.’

‘He looks like his father.’

‘I know. I have seen him.’

‘So it has been you following me. You’ve been in the house when I wasn’t there. Was it you … that night … on the stairs?’

‘No. That was not me,’ said Sasha. ‘I am sorry. It was Pavel. He was impatient. I did not want him to go. He thought he was helping me.’