Red Shadow Read Free Page B

humiliation.
    As they drifted out of the canteen, Yelena leaned closer as she walked beside him. ‘He’s frightened of you,’ she whispered. ‘He thinks you’re after his position as editor of The Pioneer .’
    ‘He’s welcome to it,’ said Misha, trying to laugh off this very public attack. If this was all because his friends had suggested he be the editor of The Pioneer , he was definitely not interested. He felt slightly sick and held on tightly to his books and papers in case his shaky hands dropped them.
    She placed a hand on his arm. ‘Don’t worry about him, Misha. He can’t hurt you – no one likes him.’
    Misha nodded, although he wasn’t reassured by what she had said. One of the lessons he had learned was that, in the Soviet Union, being liked was not important. Wielding power was important. Being feared was important. And so was knowing the right people. Barikada certainly knew that too, which was why Misha often saw him huddled together in whispered conversation with the Komsorg. Whenever Misha tried to talk to Leonid Gribkov, he had blanked him or answered with single-word responses.
    Misha needed some fresh air. They walked out into the school courtyard and Yelena said, ‘I’m going with friends to see A Girl With Character on Rest Day. Would you like to join us?’
    Misha wasn’t in the mood for a musical about a zealous young activist exposing the corrupt director of a state grain farm. Besides, he had a good excuse. He had already arranged to see Dynamo Moscow play Spartak Moscow with his friends Nikolay and Sergey.
     
    When classes finished, there was still some warmth in the pleasant spring evening. He was pleased to see Valya waiting for him at the school gate. ‘Isn’t it nice to walk home in daylight?’ she said.
    Then, sensing he wasn’t his usual self, she said, ‘What’s up, Misha?’
    He told her about what Barikada had done and his concerns about the Komsorg. ‘Gribkov’s always had his beady eye on me. He’s never liked me.’
    Valya had a theory about the Komsorg. ‘Leonid Gribkov is an engineer, Misha. Actually, from what I hear, a failed engineer. He thinks everyone should be designing crankshafts for tractors and ailerons for aeroplanes. I’m sure he thinks your literature specialism is more than a little bourgeois! That’s what this is about.’
    When Misha first started school, good manners, correct grammar, going to the theatre were all seen as being bourgeois – the habits and affectations of the former ruling classes. They left you open to attack as an enemy of the people. But things had changed over the last ten years. He was sure that Comrade Stalin and the other Politburo heads valued people who brought culture to the workers. Ballet, theatre, literature – they were a central part of being a ‘cultured’ communist. You read about that every day in the youth magazines they had in the school library.
    ‘I’m not bothered about his stupid prejudices,’ said Misha.
    Valya put a hand on his shoulder. ‘Be careful. A word from Gribkov could get you into a lot of trouble.’
    Misha was keen to change the subject. ‘How was the exam?’
    ‘It was OK,’ she replied. ‘I think I did most of it right. Pretty simple really, as long as you know the difference between velocity and speed.’
    Misha nodded sagely. He didn’t, but he wasn’t going to let her know.
    ‘We’re lucky, aren’t we?’ she said. ‘Papa says it was chaos just after the Revolution, when they abolished exams and homework. I’m so glad we go to school now, not ten or fifteen years ago.’
    ‘I’m glad we do everything now,’ said Misha. ‘It’s amazing what we’ve achieved in twenty years.’
    ‘Listen to us,’ laughed Valya. ‘We sound like Pravda .’
    Misha laughed too. ‘We’ll be singing “Life Is Getting Better” next,’ he said and began to hum the tune. When he was younger, they sang it in the Pioneers as they sat round the campfire. Life was simpler then.