◆ SpookStack

uous lunch, round to the Foreign Gastronom and buy some Bourbon.’ Much agains my wish we bought two bottles, returning home immedigdely instead of lunching ¢ had promised. Kim na bottle and was soon t. Gd bid the second botile, But he knew -all my hiding places and found it later that night. 1 tried tag match him drink for drink but could not keep if up. To his fury I poured the remains down the sink, Next morning he had just about the most colossal hangover the world has ever seen. He woke up saying. ‘I feel ghastly.’ He stayed in bed all day. The next day he felt even worse. yi was May Day and, as we were expected af the great parade, the telephone rang coastantly, but Kim " would not let me answer it.- On ., the third day he complained of " severe pains in his chest. He was scared. ‘ Sergei came to see us and “Kim said: * You'd. betier get a doctor’ ! *“* A woman docior came round _immediately and gave Kim a ’ thorough examination; laler that. ned s4ay-we’ took: him’ to*lhe special KGB clinic’ for X-rays.’ There I waited alone in a small room for three hours until Sergei finally re- turned and solemnly announced that Kim had pneumonia and tuberculosis, and was on the verge of a collapse. He had io go inlo hospital at once. We got imio an ambulance. Kim, his eyes closed, looked serene, a faint smile on his lips. His troubles for the moment were over. Sergei had arranged for him to have a private room with his own “ tollet—a_ great privilege in the ' Soviet Union. ‘Incidentally, the minute 1] leave his bedside he will have lots of company,’ I said to Sergei. “Oh no," he assured me, ‘ you are his wife and no one else is per- mitted to see him." The next time I saw Sergei | said, ‘Of course you realise he’s telephoning her every day.’ | _ \- This seemed to horrify him. "We'll try and stop that,’ he said. *T can’t tell you how sorry J am about all this. Jt shouldn't have happened ta, such a nice person.” Sergei was Gompassionate: but he was obviously already beginning to accept thai‘if Kim were going to be happier without me, I would. have to go. Hospital care I was sorry too. I knew it had happened because J] had stayed away too long. Kim later told me that one day in September he and _ Melinda had had a leng and sump- "On with lots of drinks. him in hospital for the last time. We talked fistlessly about what | should do next. I told him I had always wanted to go to Ireland. And he said, ‘Ireland is lovely. § think that’s an excellent idea. There is no extradition treaty be- tween Britain and Ireland, so per- haps I could come and see you.’ {But they passed a Bill the fatlow- ing summer, so that was just a dream.} Why, I wondered, did he suppose I should want to see him again when he would obviously be living with Melinda ? li was a very strange thing to say. After a while I had to go, but he kept saying. ‘Do stay a little longer.’ He handed me a letier and said, ‘Don't read it until you get home." Then we both started to cry. We gave each other a long embrace, and then I walked out of the hospital, down the long path to the gate. waving to him as he stood at the window of his room. As a parting present he gave me his old Westminster School scarf which he had warn constantly and which I knew _he loved. ey ea “30°: May, “:1965, “17 left Moscow for the last time. The Russians could not have been nicer. ‘If you ever want any help,’ Sergei satd, ‘go to the Russian Embassy wherever you may be and tell them who you are. They will do every- thing they can for you.’ Last attempt His assistant, Victor, was at the airport with two dozen tulips. Bul they would have died on the flight, so | handed them back, keeping ooly three, and asked that they should be sent to Kim in hospital. 1 also had ready a letter for him which | had spent most of the night writing. lt was my last attempt to try to win him back. | wanted him fo see how cunning Melinda and her friends had been, and how easily he had been taken in. I told him that if ever he had second thoughts |! would be ready to relura, but that I could not live in the same city as her, I do not know if he ever got my letter. On the plane, I reread his last note for perhaps the fiftieth time: Hospital My darling beloved, I wanted to write you a proper “ av revoir“ letter, but the condi- tions are not very favourable! So ! will content myself with a brief preface, to be followed by a long fetter, when I get back to the typewriter, From now on, darling, I shai] be thinking hard of our happy days together, of your sweetness and goodness. I can never, never forget them. Please try also to Ce ee