‘It seems Yeltsin’s daughter and son-in-law were about to be arrested and charged with fraud, and Vladimir somehow managed to make the problem disappear. I’m told the video of a call girl caught performing her particular special services on the desk of the prosecutor general’s office is well worth watching.’
‘But that’s no reason to back someone for president who’s totally unsuitable for the job.’
‘How would you feel, Sasha, if you were president and your daughter was likely to end up in prison for several years?’
‘I’d allow the law to take its course.’
‘I do believe you would,’ said Fiona, ‘which only proves how lucky they’d be to get you. But are you also willing to sacrifice the Foreign Office, when you could end up with nothing?’
‘Did Donokov let you know where he stood?’ asked Sasha, once again not answering her question.
‘No. But surely if he’s the deputy director of the FSB, he’ll be backing his boss.’
‘It doesn’t always work that way in Russia. So did he offer an opinion on my chances?’ repeated Sasha, still gnawing at the same bone.
‘No, but he did say that if you don’t stand, he wasn’t in any doubt who would be the next president.’
‘I can’t think of a better reason to stand,’ said Sasha, lowering his guard. He’d never thought for one moment that Vladimir could be a serious candidate, but accepted that if he did stand, it would be a no-holds barred contest, because wrestling was the one sport Vladimir had excelled in.
‘If you do decide to stand,’ said Fiona, interrupting his reverie, ‘I can only hope you win. You’d be sorely missed in the House, and would have made a damned good foreign secretary. But Russia is a far greater challenge. And if you were to become president, relations with the West would improve overnight, which can only be good for everyone concerned, including the Russian people.’
‘That’s kind of you to say so, Fiona. And now that I know who I’m likely to be up against, I could do with one or two of your particular political skills.’
‘I’ll take that as a compliment,’ said Fiona, as the car swept through the members’ entrance and into Old Palace Yard. As Sasha climbed out of the car, the division bell began to ring, so they parted and went their separate ways.
Ironic, thought Sasha as he entered the ‘Ayes’ lobby, that it wasn’t what he’d gleaned at the embassy party that had helped him to finally make up his mind, but a piece of information picked up in the back of a car from the most unlikely source.
*
When Sasha told Elena that he would be returning to their homeland to run for president, it was as if she hadn’t heard a word he’d said.
‘Of course, Mama, I’d understand if you felt you didn’t want to come with me.’
‘I will be going with you,’ she said quietly.
Sasha was at first surprised, then delighted, and finally sad when she told him the reason for her change of heart. ‘I’m so sorry,’ he said, embracing his mother. ‘Uncle Kolya was such a fine man, and we both owe him so much.’
‘The family have asked me if you would be kind enough to deliver one of the tributes at his funeral.’
‘Of course I will. Please tell them I’d be honoured.’
‘His wife told me Kolya’s last words,’ said Elena. ‘ “Tell Sasha, if he’s the son of his father, he’ll make a great president.” ’
*
Sasha issued a brief press statement to the lobby journalists at ten o’clock the following morning.
The Rt Hon. Sasha Karpenko resigned this morning as Minister of State at the Foreign Office. He will also step down as the Member of Parliament for Merrifield with immediate effect, as he intends to return to his homeland of Russia and stand for president in the forthcoming election.
The Prime Minister, speaking from Downing Street, responded. ‘The government has lost a quite outstanding minister and a formidable parliamentarian. I hope and believe that those same skills will be put to good use when he returns to the country of his birth. And should he be elected to the high office to which he aspires, we can all look forward to a positive new era of Anglo-Russian relations.’
Lord Cohen was among the first to call. ‘If you’re looking for a campaign manager, Sasha, I’m still available.’
‘I won’t get a better one, Ben, that’s for sure.’
The former deputy prime minister of Russia called the following morning while he was shaving.
‘I couldn’t be more delighted by the news,’ said Nemtsov. ‘The media have gone into meltdown, and the first poll published in the morning papers has you on twenty-nine per cent.’
‘And how’s Vladimir faring?’ asked Sasha.
‘Two per cent, and he was on four per cent only a week ago.’
Perhaps the biggest shock for Sasha was how many heads of state and prime ministers called from all around the world during the next forty-eight hours to say, in less than coded language, I only wish I had a vote.
The night before Sasha was due to fly to Saint Petersburg, the Russian ambassador called.
‘Sasha, I’ve been trying to get in touch with you for the past couple of days, but your phone’s constantly engaged. Have I missed something?’ Sasha laughed. ‘My masters have instructed me to make sure that your journey back to Saint Petersburg is as smooth as possible. We’ll lay on a car to take you and your family to the airport, and I’ve instructed Aeroflot that the first-class cabin should be cordoned off from the rest of the passengers so you won’t be disturbed.’
‘Thank you, Yuri, that’s most considerate, as I’ll have two important speeches to work on.’
‘So do you want to hear the good news first, or the bad news?’
‘The good news,’ said Sasha, playing along.
‘Over fifty per cent of Russian women think you’re better-looking than George Clooney.’
Sasha laughed. ‘And the bad news?’
‘You’re not going to be pleased to learn who Yeltsin has appointed as his new prime minister.’
BOOK SIX
45
ALEX AND SASHA
En route to Amsterdam, 1999
Alex picked up the phone on his desk.
‘There’s someone on the line called Dimitri,’ said Miss Robbins. ‘He says he’s an old friend, and that he wouldn’t bother you if it wasn’t urgent.’
‘He goes back even further than you, Pamela, and is indeed an old friend. Put him through.’
‘Is that you, Alex?’
‘Dimitri, it’s good to hear from you after all this time. Are you calling from New York?’
‘No, Saint Petersburg. I thought you’d want to know the sad news that your Uncle Kolya has died.’ Alex was speechless. He felt guilty that he hadn’t been able to see his uncle when he’d last visited Saint Petersburg. ‘I would have called Elena, and not bothered you,’ continued Dimitri, ‘but I didn’t know how to get in touch with her at work.’
‘You can bother me whenever you want to, Dimitri. I’ll let my mother know, because she’ll want to go to the funeral. Do you know when it is?’
‘Next Friday, at the Church of the Apostle Andrew. I know it’s short notice, but if you were able to come, the family are hoping that you might deliver one of the tributes.’
‘It isn’t short notice for someone who saved my life,’ said Alex. ‘Tell them I’ll be honoured.’
‘The family will be so pleased. You’re a bit of a hero in this city, so be prepared for quite a homecoming.’
‘Thank you, Dimitri. I look forward to seeing you.’
Alex put the phone down and pressed the button under his desk. Miss Robbins appeared moments later, pad in hand, biro poised.
‘Clear the diary. I’m going to Saint Petersburg.’
*
‘It’s at times like this,’ said Charlie with an exaggerated sigh, ‘that I wish you had a private jet, so we didn’t have to bother with endless queues and hold-ups.’
‘Would you please open your bag, madam?’
‘Were you put through all this hassle when you were a minister, Dad?’ asked Natasha as she unzipped her bag.
‘No, but then it’s always in the back of your mind that you’ll only be in government for a limited period. Margaret Thatcher once said, only the Queen can afford to get used to it.’