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He sighed. Perhaps he was grateful that at least one of the younger members of the family was honest. ‘Off you go, Maxim. If you see Shura ask him to come here.’

‘I will, Semyon Josefovitch.’

Not an hour later, as I went downstairs to find wrapping paper for Katya’s present, I saw Shura arrive and go through the door connecting Uncle Semya’s business with the house. I had only seen these premises once: dark-painted wood and little glass windows, and oak, mahogany and brass desks, with clerks sitting at them who might have been there since the days of Pushkin. I wondered why Shura should go into the offices rather than into Uncle Semya’s study.

I waited on the landing, watching the door, but Shura did not emerge again. I assumed he had left through another exit.

Feeling mightily pleased with myself, I went to ask Aunt Genia for the fancy paper. She handed me a sheet, together with some scissors and ribbon. I was not, she said, to disturb Uncle Semya if I saw him. He was in an unusually difficult mood.

‘Was it to do with Shura?’

She shrugged. ‘Perhaps. He doesn’t seem too pleased with you, either. Have you been up to anything?’

‘Nothing, Aunt Genia.’

I returned to my room. I was just a little puzzled. I wrapped the parcel. I called Wanda in and asked her if any boys in the street could be paid to take a parcel to Slobodka. She said that she would see. I had marked the parcel with Katya’s initials, and her Polish surname, which was something like Grabbitz.

‘Who are you sending a present to?’ Wanda asked. ‘It looks a very nice one.’

I kissed her. ‘It is nobody I love. A friend of mine. Someone to whom I owe a favour.’

With a few kopeks, she took the box downstairs and eventually returned to say one of the street-urchins from the square had agreed to deliver it. Now, if Katya asked who had given the boy the box, Wanda and not myself would be identified as the sender.

Wanda and I made love very briefly. I was not really in the mood. I was still wondering what had happened to Shura. The way my luck now ran, he could be on the next ship out of the Quarantine Harbour.

I had asked Wanda to leave me alone for half-an-hour and was reaching for the drawer where I kept my cocaine when the door opened softly and closed. I expected Wanda. To my horror, it was Shura. He was grinning at me in a very menacing way. He had abandoned his tie and shirt and was wearing a laced peasant blouse with a loud, heavy scarf tied around his throat; over this was thrown a fur coat whose surface had worn away in patches. In his hand was a three-eared cap. He looked almost pathetic.

‘You little stool-pigeon,’ he said. ‘You stupid, silly little Kiev gilt-goyim. You wouldn’t have it out face to face. What a crook I am! That’s a laugh. Uncle Semya’s the biggest crook of all.’

I was familiar with these revolutionary arguments. ‘Capitalism isn’t a crime.’

‘Isn’t it? Well, your plan misfired. I’m not to be sent to the galleys. I’m merely to be more cautious about what I let green little sneaks see.’

‘Did Uncle Semya say that?’

‘Not exactly. But it’s the substance.’

‘I can’t believe it.’

‘You don’t have to. I thought we were friends. Max.’

Shura spoke as if I had betrayed him! I now remember him with nothing but kindness and have long since forgiven him, but at that moment the fact that Shura considered himself a victim was almost laughable. I smiled. ‘Shura, it was you who broke the friendship.’

‘You idiot. I was sleeping with Katya before you even turned up. I asked her to be nice to you. I slipped her money. Why did you think it went so easily for you?’

‘She loved me.’

‘I suppose she did. As much as she could. She’s been my girlfriend for years. Ask anyone.’

‘You’re lying. It’s despicable.’

He went bright red. His face was a match for his cropped hair. ‘You don’t have to take my word. Katya will tell you.’

The door opened slowly. Wanda came in. ‘What is it, Shura?’

Shura told her to leave. I nodded in agreement. ‘This is between us.’

‘Don’t start fighting, or I’ll call Aunt Genia.’

‘I wouldn’t touch him,’ said Shura. This relieved me.

‘At least you’ve made it clear how you feel,’ I said. ‘What about me? My rival’s a Jew-loving lout who can hardly speak his own name. A crook.’

‘Jew-lover?’ He laughed. ‘And why not? Do you know what our name originally was?’

‘Your father’s you mean? I’m surprised you know it.’

‘Coming from you, that’s rich.’

We were hurting one another quite unfairly, as only those who have been close can wound. It was I who turned my back first, refusing to continue. If Shura was going to flaunt the fact of being half-Jewish, that was his own affair. It only confirmed what I thought.

‘I feel sorry for you,’ he said. ‘You could have been happy here. You could have had friends here. People liked you. But not now. I advise you to get out of Odessa as quickly as possible.’

Was it a threat? I said, ‘Odessa has no further attractions for me.’