“For you, my dear. May you become the Jane Austen of our time. Come on. Let's go and see what we can learn.”
They learned that they were in the village of Chawton in the County of Hampshire. They also found out that Jane Austen had spent the last eight years of her life in the house and had written three novels there. They spent two hours reading everything they could and soaking in the atmosphere. Slava observed Octavia as she looked around the tiny rooms. It was as if she were in a trance, lost in a world she dreamed of. He only hoped he could provide her with a life where she could relax, be calm, and have the clarity of thought to do what she wanted to do: write.
“That was fantastic,” she exclaimed as they got back into the limousine.
“Yes. We've got a lot of history in this country,” the driver said. “Next time you should go to Stratford upon Avon, the home of William Shakespeare.”
“Oh, that would be lovely,” she said, still entranced by the world of Jane Austen.
Slava didn't like the look of the man lurking next to Serene when they arrived back at Milby Marina. He put a protective arm around Octavia and hurried her onto the boat.
“I'll be back in a minute,” he said. He walked back down the gangplank and up to the man.
“Who are you?” he asked directly in Russian.
“I'm Vasiliev Moltov. I have a message from your father.”
“How the hell did you find us here?”
“It's not difficult these days to track a boat of this nature, “ he said, pointing at Serene. “With all the signals it transmits, you were easy to find.”
“And what do you want?”
“I work for a man called General Toporov, head of the State Security Service of Russia. I'm the bureau chief in London.”
“You mean you're a spy.”
“Whatever you want to call it. I work on behalf of the Russian people to ensure a fair world and the safety of our nation.”
Brainwashed was the word that came to Slava's mind. “So answer my question: What do you want?”
“Your father is worried about you.”
“Then tell him I am fine and leave me alone.”
“It's not quite that simple. Your father has asked me to take the woman you are with and send her back to the US.”
Slava laughed. “You are certainly going to have to kill me before you can do that. She is in a delicate state, and if you so much as put one hand on her I will rip you into pieces, here and now.”
“Please calm yourself,” Moltov said, slightly worried that Slava was more than a match for him. “What do they say in English? Ah, yes, don't shoot the messenger. Your father has asked me to return the president's daughter to the US. If you don't comply, I will relay that back to your father and await further instructions.” His eyes narrowed as he thought carefully about what he was going to say next. “But your father is very disappointed that you have chosen to run off with an American, and especially one of such note. Your father has little regard for Americans, as indeed do I. They are trashy, loud, and lack sophistication. Given that, it's no surprise that she is pregnant out of wedlock.”
When Slava's fist slammed into Moltov's mouth, he saw a tooth fly out and plop down into the water below the pontoon they were standing on. Moltov sank to his knees, rolled his eyes, and passed out. Octavia, curious to know what Slava was doing, came on deck and looked at the man lying on the ground.
“Slava, what on earth?”
“He's come on behalf of my father. He wanted to send you back to the US. He was rude, so I knocked him out. I think I must have hit him very hard. Indeed, he's lost a tooth.”
“Oh my God,” Octavia cried. “They're going to split us up. I can feel it. They want me back in America and you back in Moscow. I'll never see you again. I'm going to call my father and tell him where we are. He'll get someone here to protect us.”
Slava went back onto the boat and took her in his arms “No. They'll take you from me. I couldn't bear that. We'll leave and go somewhere else.”
“But, Slava, if they found us here, they will find us any other place. At least my father can keep us safe.”
“Okay, but I want to speak to him as well.”
Octavia opened her laptop and dialed the number. The president’s secretary answered. “June, it's Octavia. Can I speak to my father?”
“Octavia, where are you? Everyone's so worried.”
“I'm fine. Obviously our secret service isn't as fast as the Russians at finding me. I'm safe and well.”
“I'll get him. Please wait.”
When Octavia's father came onto the screen, he looked ashen, and Octavia instantly knew that she had caused him a lot of anxiety. “Hi, Dad. Listen, I'm—”
“Octavia, for god's sake, where are you? Your mother is having a nervous breakdown, and me too come to that.”
“I'm fine. I just want to talk to you, if you'll let me.”
“Okay, baby, talk. You know we love you more than anything in the world and only want the best for you.”