the right password, I recognize him and the boys know him, but …’ Maria hesitated.
‘What is it?’
‘He says the boys are playing in a tournament all day today. I do not know about this. He says he tell Miss Wisneski and maybe she forget to tell me.’
‘Well, she was so busy packing and making arrangements for her Italian trip, maybe she did forget to tell you.’
‘He say the boys need to bring their passports to register for the tournament. I do not like this. You know there is problem with Mr Igor and taking boys out of the country … so I don’t know if this is right.’
‘Is this the coach they go with all the time?’
‘Yes.’
‘He knows the password.’
‘Yes.’
‘He probably just needs the passports to prove their age.’
‘Yes, he says he comes back with the boys and their passports at 6 p.m. tonight.’
‘I’m sure it’s fine,’ Elena said, giving her most reassuring smile, ‘don’t worry about it. Poor Maria, always worrying.’
‘But Mr Igor … and Miss Wisneski is not here.’ Maria frowned. ‘I would like to check with her. Is possible to check with her?’
Elena sighed. Ever since Igor had managed to get the boys to Luton airport and within several hundred metres of his private jet, Svetlana had been paranoid. There were all kinds of legal protection around the boys. There was no way Igor could move them near the border without alarm bells ringing all over the country.
Now some poor coach was getting hassled because he couldn’t fill in a registration form without everyone jumping into panic mode. It was all completely over the top. But then so was Svetlana.
‘It will be fine – but if you like, I will phone her.’
Maria’s face broke into a relieved smile.
‘Thank you, shall I wait outside?’
‘You wait with the boys. I’ll come up in a few minutes.’
Elena picked up her mobile and clicked onto Svetlana’s number. It went straight through to voicemail.
Svetlana was probably getting her first massage of the day, being rubbed down and pampered by the minions she liked to surround herself with while poor Maria was worrying herself into a frenzy because as usual Svetlana had forgotten to tell her about the boys’ plans for the day.
Elena made her way to the marble-floored splendour of the entrance hall. Maria was hovering anxiously behind Michael and Petrov, while a tanned young man in a tracksuit waited beside them.
‘Hi,’ Elena greeted them.
‘Hello, I’m Yann,’ the coach replied. ‘Nice to meet you, Miss …’
‘Elena,’ she said. ‘Where is the tournament?’
‘In Richmond, all day long. We should be back by six.’
‘How are you getting there?’ she wondered.
‘I know the boys sometimes have a driver, but I don’t want to put you to any trouble, so I was going to order a taxi.’
‘Maria and I didn’t know about the tournament, so the driver is having the day off.’
‘No problem,’ the coach reassured her.
‘And you need their passports?’
‘Just to prove their dates of birth. It’s an official requirement. I’m sorry if there’s any inconvenience, I did explain this to Miss Wisneski.’
‘Yes.’
‘Did you speak with Miss Wisneski?’ Maria asked, looking up at Elena hopefully.
Elena hadn’t planned on lying. She meant to check out the coach herself and if it all made sense, she’d say she couldn’t reach Svetlana but she was sure it was fine.
But now that Maria was looking at her, all troubled and sorrowful eyes, Elena thought a little white lie would be OK. She didn’t want poor Maria to worry all day long. It wasn’t even 10 a.m. yet: that meant eight full hours of worrying ahead.
‘Yes I spoke to her, everything is fine,’ Elena said with her most confident smile.
‘Ah!’
Maria’s face relaxed.
‘Are you looking forward to the tournament?’ Elena asked the boys, who were dressed in bright, immaculately ironed tennis whites.
Petrov gave an eager smile while Michael shrugged. He was
‘What is it?’
‘He says the boys are playing in a tournament all day today. I do not know about this. He says he tell Miss Wisneski and maybe she forget to tell me.’
‘Well, she was so busy packing and making arrangements for her Italian trip, maybe she did forget to tell you.’
‘He say the boys need to bring their passports to register for the tournament. I do not like this. You know there is problem with Mr Igor and taking boys out of the country … so I don’t know if this is right.’
‘Is this the coach they go with all the time?’
‘Yes.’
‘He knows the password.’
‘Yes.’
‘He probably just needs the passports to prove their age.’
‘Yes, he says he comes back with the boys and their passports at 6 p.m. tonight.’
‘I’m sure it’s fine,’ Elena said, giving her most reassuring smile, ‘don’t worry about it. Poor Maria, always worrying.’
‘But Mr Igor … and Miss Wisneski is not here.’ Maria frowned. ‘I would like to check with her. Is possible to check with her?’
Elena sighed. Ever since Igor had managed to get the boys to Luton airport and within several hundred metres of his private jet, Svetlana had been paranoid. There were all kinds of legal protection around the boys. There was no way Igor could move them near the border without alarm bells ringing all over the country.
Now some poor coach was getting hassled because he couldn’t fill in a registration form without everyone jumping into panic mode. It was all completely over the top. But then so was Svetlana.
‘It will be fine – but if you like, I will phone her.’
Maria’s face broke into a relieved smile.
‘Thank you, shall I wait outside?’
‘You wait with the boys. I’ll come up in a few minutes.’
Elena picked up her mobile and clicked onto Svetlana’s number. It went straight through to voicemail.
Svetlana was probably getting her first massage of the day, being rubbed down and pampered by the minions she liked to surround herself with while poor Maria was worrying herself into a frenzy because as usual Svetlana had forgotten to tell her about the boys’ plans for the day.
Elena made her way to the marble-floored splendour of the entrance hall. Maria was hovering anxiously behind Michael and Petrov, while a tanned young man in a tracksuit waited beside them.
‘Hi,’ Elena greeted them.
‘Hello, I’m Yann,’ the coach replied. ‘Nice to meet you, Miss …’
‘Elena,’ she said. ‘Where is the tournament?’
‘In Richmond, all day long. We should be back by six.’
‘How are you getting there?’ she wondered.
‘I know the boys sometimes have a driver, but I don’t want to put you to any trouble, so I was going to order a taxi.’
‘Maria and I didn’t know about the tournament, so the driver is having the day off.’
‘No problem,’ the coach reassured her.
‘And you need their passports?’
‘Just to prove their dates of birth. It’s an official requirement. I’m sorry if there’s any inconvenience, I did explain this to Miss Wisneski.’
‘Yes.’
‘Did you speak with Miss Wisneski?’ Maria asked, looking up at Elena hopefully.
Elena hadn’t planned on lying. She meant to check out the coach herself and if it all made sense, she’d say she couldn’t reach Svetlana but she was sure it was fine.
But now that Maria was looking at her, all troubled and sorrowful eyes, Elena thought a little white lie would be OK. She didn’t want poor Maria to worry all day long. It wasn’t even 10 a.m. yet: that meant eight full hours of worrying ahead.
‘Yes I spoke to her, everything is fine,’ Elena said with her most confident smile.
‘Ah!’
Maria’s face relaxed.
‘Are you looking forward to the tournament?’ Elena asked the boys, who were dressed in bright, immaculately ironed tennis whites.
Petrov gave an eager smile while Michael shrugged. He was
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