Of all the characters I've ever written, Aleksandr Babikov is by far my favourite. He's Dasha's uncle, Lilia's brother, living in Russia until the end of the first half of the book. Lilia sends for him after a particularly nasty situation arises between her and Dasha and his arrival heralds a whole new lifestyle for both of them. Dasha loves him instantly but of course that would mean her life had gained an element of happiness. Does that sound like something I'd write for her? The whole point of Dasha's upbringing is to leave her unsatisfied, thus propelling her to confront the option of the memory manipulation. I'm not a total dog – Dasha deserves hope for a loving family. Aleksandr is that hope. And he also looks like Richard Griffiths.
Aleksandr moved into her father's disused study. Lilia had pushed a single bed frame and spring mattress against the far wall. Apart from a three-foot bookshelf and the desk Dasha once sat beneath, the room was empty. Aleksandr threw it a cursory glance before swinging his cases onto the bed. Dasha watched from the top of the hall stairs. Her eyes burned when he held a hand to the wood of the desk.
For supper, Lilia made a dish Dasha had never seen before.
-Bitochki,- Aleksandr crooned when she spilled some onto his plate. -I was expecting some kind of this fast food. French fries and bread.-
Lilia scowled. -We don't eat that here. It's bad enough with Dasha's school dinners. At least she will eat well when she is at home.-
At school, Dasha only ate the plates of potato, vegetables and pasta but Lilia refused to believe that her daughter would fail to take advantage of the grease-traps.
-You like your mother's cooking?-
Dasha put a piece of meat on her tongue, round flavour of onion and sour cream, and nodded. She did. Had always loved it. Lilia gave a stiff smile.
After supper Aleksandr reclined in his brother-in-law's arm chair, Dasha curled on the floor near his feet; Lilia replaced crockery with coffee brewing at her back. Dasha showed Aleksandr the best of her charcoal drawings; he held up a sketch of a daffodil in half bloom.
-This must be my favourite. So bold. Velikolepnyi.-
Dasha had never heard her mother's language before. It was harsh, like stones being forced together. -Uncle Alex, can you teach me some Russian?-
Aleksandr arched his back, rubbing one hand across his bulging stomach. A button was missing at the bottom of his shirt. -Of course, darling. What do you know already?-
-Well, nothing.-
-Nothing? You mean your mother has taught you nothing?- He looked over at the kitchen door. As if in answer, Lilia stacked the plates slightly louder.
-No.-
-But she still makes this Russian food? Our own mother with canned soup and burgers and here Lilia jellies her own chocolate.-
-She says that English food will kill you.-
-She has taught you to cook?-
-Yeah. She just doesn't want me to learn the language.-
-Lilia,- Aleksandr rumbled when she backed into the room carrying thick slices of apple charlotte. He smacked his lips before continuing. -What is this I hear? Dasha knows nothing of Russian?-
-You forget, Alexi,- she said slowly, -that I came here to be English.-
-Ahh, glupyi. You will always be a Russian. Take a look at yourself. At what you eat.-
Lilia's lips thinned in a way Dasha recognised. -It isn't easy here. Dasha is better off knowing only English. Better off not standing out.- She returned to the kitchen and Aleksandr shouted after her.
-She is beautiful. Every man she ever meets will be enchanted. She will always stand out.-
Lilia didn't answer and Aleksandr put both hands on his knees, leaning toward Dasha. She gravitated nearer. -She was not always like this, my sister,- he whispered. -Used to be proud of Russia. Proud to be Russian. She was a koroleva.-
-She was what?-
-It means 'queen'. You should have seen her when she met your papa. Magnificent. Brought him to eat with us, taught him to speak. Wanted to stay in Moscow. He would have made a great Russian.-
-They met in Russia?-
-Yes. At Sokolniki Park in Moscow.-
-Mum said they met here in London.-
Aleksandr blinked and sat back in the armchair. -What lies she has told.-
Lilia came back with a mug and an unlabelled bottle of clear liquid.
-At last, vodka,- Aleksandr crowed. Dasha started to say something to her mother but caught Aleksandr shake his head infinitesimally. She understood.
-I'm going to bed.- She kissed her mother's cheek, a thing she hadn't done since primary school. It was hot under her lips. Aleksandr patted her jaw and creaked open the bottle cap. Lilia had slipped slices of strawberry inside. For Aleksandr's coming.
From the hallway she heard Lilia ask, -will you come to church tomorrow, Alexi?-
-It has been a long time.-
-It would be good for Dasha.-
No hesitation. -Then I will come.-
-Spasibo.-
What else do you really need to know?
Lara S.
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