‘I did,’ Daniil said. ‘I got it in Russia and I had it wrapped, but it was opened at customs. I was going to have Cindy rewrap it on Monday. As you can see, I tried...’
There was more sticky tape than one box could handle, and Libby rightly guessed that choosing presents and wrapping gifts wasn’t something he’d done much of in his life.
‘Can I open it?’
‘Do.’
Daniil was as tense as she’d been when he had opened her gift, and he glimpsed then how things like this mattered, how choosing something for someone you loved meant you so badly wanted them to love it, too.
‘There aren’t any gift shops where I come from and I didn’t want to just get something from the airport.’ He could hear the rare tension in his own voice as she opened it. ‘Sergio’s wife knew someone who was an accomplished glassblower. I watched this being made.’
Her hand was shaking as she opened the box and there was her thing from him—a slender ballet dancer in glass, with blue eyes and a wide smile.
‘And she has a hole in her head for a flower!’ Libby cried out in delight. ‘I love it, I love her, it’s the best gift I’ve ever had and you must have loved me then...’
‘Maybe,’ he relented. ‘Or maybe a bit before that.’ He guided her to the room she hadn’t been allowed to enter before, and just as he had opened her bedroom door, Libby opened this one and entered his private space.
‘You did keep it.’ She smiled, because once her eyes had taken in all the gym equipment, she looked over to a shelf and there that glittery porcelain ornament sat.
She placed her glass ballerina next to it and then saw she belonged beside the only other possessions that mattered to him.
She reached up and took the picture down and Daniil stood behind her, looking at the photo of four young boys.
‘You look like brothers,’ Libby commented, because they all had dark hair and pale skin and solemn eyes.
‘I know, but only Roman and I are related. I didn’t even know I had these with me when I came. Roman must have slipped them into my case. I had copies made and sent them to him but, of course, they were never posted.’
How cruel, Libby thought.
‘My parents tried to throw these out,’ he said, ‘but Marcus retrieved them and kept them for me.’
And then she said it.
‘They’re not your parents,’ Libby said. ‘They don’t deserve that title.’
‘You don’t hold back, do you?’
‘I’ll try...’
‘Never hold back,’ he said, and then he looked down at the photo. ‘That’s Sev.’ He pointed to a serious-looking child.
‘The one who the letter was from?’ Libby asked, and she turned her head and he nodded.
‘You’ll find him.’
‘Maybe.’
‘So that must be Nikolai.’
There was a long stretch of silence and then he ran a finger over the image of a young life lost and his voice was a husk.
‘Yes.’
‘How did he drown?’
‘He was found in a river,’ Daniil said. ‘He ran away because he was being abused.’ He closed his eyes and she was patient with his silence and then he opened them again. ‘And there’s Roman,’ he said, but he did not point. Daniil waited for her to try to guess which one of the twins he was. ‘You won’t be able to tell us apart, no one was ever able to.’
‘I can.’
She pointed to the boy on the left. ‘That’s you.’
‘Fluke,’ Daniil said. ‘Look at this one.’
He took down the other photo and she looked at two serious boys with black hair and dark eyes, and it had been taken before the scar on his cheek...
Again she chose correctly.
‘How do you know?’
‘I just know,’ Libby said. ‘I guess that’s love.’
She watched as he put the photos down beside the letter. The thing she had given him seemed to smile and say it would keep them safe.
‘Come on,’ he said.
This time when they moved to the bedroom it was hand in hand, and as she walked into the vast space another question she had was answered.
She stilled as she heard through the night the chimes as Big Ben struck midnight. It made her shiver low in her stomach. The room that had looked so empty seemed to fill with the low and beautifully familiar noise and Libby wondered how she had missed it their first night.
Daniil watched her mouth open as it did and he saw that tiny frown and he knew her question without her voicing it.