Chapter 52
We exit the subway at Piccadilly Circus. It’s dark and all the neon signs are lit, flashing brightly above the dense jam of people underneath. We are crossing the shopping battlefield, people carrying large plastic bags in both hands, crossing each other’s paths, an after-Christmas sale going wild.
And in the midst of all of these people, I feel safe.
Sam is holding me under my arm, and I’m leaning more than I need to on his forearm. We walk along a broad street, old architecture on both sides illuminated by streetlights giving off a yellowish glow.
On the other side of the street I see a large building with tall pillars that very much looks like a theater. Excited about that thought, I wonder if we’re going to cross the road, but instead we stop next to a small, old, wood-carved entrance on our side of the street where dozens of people are queuing to enter. The doors only let two people in at a time, and we need to wait a bit.
I wonder what this is. I look to the side of the entrance but don’t see anything that would give it away. Then I look up and realize I’m standing just underneath the marquee above the entrance. From this angle, I can’t decipher what it says.
“Did you see it?” he asks.
“No, no. I just missed it.”
“Good!” He sighs with relief. “Very good!”
I’m excited. Sam and I are doing something together! It feels just like a normal evening out, and I’m happy. This is what our time should always look like: going out, holding hands, kissing . . . well, perhaps not with this mask on.
I smile.
Once we are inside the theater, we give our coats to the wardrobe personnel and Sam keeps telling me where I shouldn’t look. I play along, avoiding the posters on the walls and theater programs.
I want to be surprised.
We make our way to our seats, and I look around. There is no free space available and there is an excited murmur all around. Our seats are in the parterre, but I see people crowding two stories of galleries, which form a half circle at the back of the theatre hall.
The stage is hidden by a heavy red curtain, golden tassels spread on the stage floor. Both sides of the stage are decorated by grandiose golden angels and gargoyles.
People are talking, and I’m trying to get a hint of what show we are going to see, but among such a hum I can’t distinguish specific conversations. I’m bubbling with anticipation, keeping my back straight, peeking over to the podium. I almost forget the thick makeup I’m wearing. I look at Sam. His gaze has been on me all the time. He’s wearing a broad smile, enthusiasm brimming all over his face.
“You seem young tonight, Granny.” He winks at me and takes my hand.
I try to smile back but it feels so awkward under all the layers. I hunch a little bit, adapting to my role.
Suddenly, the lights dim, voices quiet, and the heavy red curtain swings to the side of the stage. Several characters occupy the scarcely lit stage. Light is shining on only one side, making heavy shadows on the faces and clothing of the actors. One man starts talking.
I’ve heard this before . . .
After few minutes, he ends his monolog. “Perhaps we could scare away the ghosts from so many years ago with a little . . . illumination.”
The stage chandelier bursts into light and the orchestra starts, the organ loud and breathtaking.
I can’t believe it, I can’t believe it—he brought me to see The Phantom of the Opera!
“Oh, Sam!” I whisper and hug him from the side, squeezing him against me. “Thank you!”
Sam’s face melts into a smile and he kisses my forehead. “I thought you’d like it.”
***
We exit the theater and the cold wind blows snowflakes against our faces. I am in this wonderful emotional bubble created by a beautiful musical performance and—a date, a real proper date—with Sam.
I look up at him. “Sam, that was amazing! Thank you.”
Sam hugs me and I circle my arm around his waist.
“You’re welcome, Jane. The pleasure was all mine.”
We walk down Haymarket Road. We don’t need to fight our way through the crowd anymore, but the city is still very much alive, even though it’s close to midnight.
One day, I would like to live in Europe.
An image appears in my mind: Sam and I walking along a cobblestone road, finding our way among the narrow streets of an old historic town, passing small coffee shops and jewelry stores.
I look up at Sam.
A possibility or a complete improbability?
The answer is very clear, but I shut it away.
I don’t want to know.
Sam stops and looks up, sticking his tongue out for a fresh snowflake. I smile, close my eyes, and do the same. They are cold as they fall on my tongue, but only for a fraction of a second. Then they melt and leave tiny pools of lukewarm water in their place.
“Sam?” I look up at his face. “What’s going to happen next?”
Sam sighs, then continues walking slowly, keeping me by his side in a hug. “There is a person I trust who will help you get settled.”
My gaze falls to the ground. A person. Someone. But not Sam.
“The flight is tomorrow at ten,” he continues. He’s trying to sound upbeat, but I can hear the solemnity in his voice.
“Where am I going?”
“Athens.”
“Athens?”
“Yes.”
“Athens, Greece?”
“Yes.”
I stop walking to look at him. “What am I going to do in Athens? I don’t even speak Greek!”
“Don’t worry about that now. Konsta will help you get on your feet. The way I see it, this information you’ve uncovered, the results—they need to be public knowledge, and you need a place to do your research. Konsta will organize a place for you at the University of Athens.”
“Organize a place . . . ?”
“Yes. You’ll be running a microbiology laboratory—”
“What?” I say louder than I should.
Sam looks around and then back at me.
I continue in a hushed voice. “I don’t know how to run a lab!”
He tilts his head and smiles, but stays silent for a bit. “I don’t doubt for one second that you’ll be perfect. You’ll be set up with two technicians at the start, and there’ll be two open positions for graduate students as well.”
I am flabbergasted. I shake my head and say, “Sam, this is a bit above my qualifications. I can’t run a lab . . .”
“You actually can,” he says. “And you will. Jane, I know this has been your dream all along. And, in any case, your findings on Crazy Gro need to be published. There’s no way around it. They need to become public knowledge. So don’t think your stay in Athens will be just about sightseeing the Parthenon and tasting ouzo, is that clear?”
He’s trying to joke about the situation, but I feel like my rib cage just got smaller, making my breathing more difficult. “I don’t know . . . I don’t know, Sam.” My gaze is on the floor, following irregular patterns on the pavement. “I don’t think I can do this . . . alone.”
Sam leans his head toward me and touches my forehead with his. I can’t feel his skin as I would want to through the layers of makeup on my face, but I enjoy it all the same.
“Jane, there’s no doubt in my mind that you can handle all of that. You are a very strong, independent”—then he chuckles, looking at my face—“young woman. Wrinkles and all.” He winks at me.
I smile and we continue walking.
“Sam,” I ask eventually, still looking at the ground. “Will I be able to contact you, when I’m there?”
He doesn’t say anything for a long while. “It wouldn’t be very smart.”
I nod slowly. I knew he was going to say that, but I just needed to ask.
We turn left to the subway entrance.
“Sam, could you please do something for me?”
“Of course, Jane, anything.”
“Well, two things.”
Sam raises his eyebrows. “All right. What?”
“First, could you please contact my sister, make sure she knows I’m all right and that she shouldn’t worry?”
Sam nods. “Yes, I can do that, Jane.”
We pass through the subway gate and turn right for our platform.
“What is the second thing?” he asks.
I stop and look at him. “Stay alive. And come back to me.” It’s a small corridor and we are blocking the way for other people.
“That’s three things,” he says and smiles. Then he takes my hand and we push forward. We find our place among the many people waiting for the train.
“I will try my best, Jane,” he says in a solemn voice. He’s avoiding my gaze, looking over my shoulder at large posters on the tiled wall on the other side of the train tracks.
I look down at the floor.
He’s not sure if he can keep his promise.
I swallow and clench my jaws tight.
The train comes and we get in. I keep glancing at him. I want to know what he is going to do, but I don’t want to ask him here, in a train full of people. So I stay quiet. And wait.
At Holborn station, we get off. Only a few other people get off at the same time, and they all hurry ahead of us, so we hug and walk slowly up the stairs together. The winter air welcomes us as we step into the street.
“What is it?” Sam asks.
I look up at him. “What do you mean?”
“I can tell you’re burning to say something,” he says and then looks down at me.
“How could you tell?”
“I’m very perceptive.” He winks at me. “So?”
“What are you going to do, Sam? What’s going to happen?” I look at him again.
“First of all, I need to convince Sentinel that you are too valuable to eliminate. I need to convince them that you should be allowed to do your research and publish your findings on the antidote. And, that during that time, you will tell no one what happened. Second, the entire supply of Crazy Gro bacteria the bad guys stole needs to be destroyed. And the third thing: we need to make sure that this group never does anything like this again, which means Sentinel needs to find them, and eliminate them.”
“Will you—” I swallow. “Will you be on that team, Sam?”
“Yes.” He says it without hesitation. “This group is a lot bigger and better organized than we originally thought. We know that they have people both in the US and Europe, potentially in other places as well. It will take a series of strikes, in several locations, to eradicate them all. I will need to be there.”
I stop walking. “But what if you get hurt, Sam? What if they kill you?” And I circle my arms around his waist and bury my head in his chest. “I’m so afraid, Sam.”
He hugs me around my shoulders and chuckles.
I look up at him. “Why is this funny for you?”
He looks at my eyes for several seconds before he says, “It’s very sweet that you… worry about me… so much. But I am trained to do this, Jane. And I’m really, really good at it.”
But you’re not bullet-proof, Sam…
I lower my gaze.
He leans in and lifts my chin up with his finger. “Hey, look at me.”
I look up, diving once again into the depths of the two dark blue oceans.
“It will be okay.” Then he smiles, and kisses me.
But I can’t feel his lips. Then I realize he has just kissed an old woman’s lips. “You don’t mind the wrinkles, do you?” I blink at him few times.
“No.” He looks at me gently, his voice warm and deep. “But right now, I wanna make love to a stunning young woman. So, let’s get home and take this mask off, shall we?”