‘Well, I suppose I have access to better skincare ranges in London.’
Dr Tataryn frowned. ‘I think I know why you here,’ she said. ‘Pylyp, he sexes your daughter and gives her baby in the belly, yes? And now you say, come back, Pylyp, come marry my slut daughter. Or maybe you want him horsewhipped? You are right to be angry. I provide you with horsewhip, if you like. I keep one in closet for moments like this.’
‘No, that’s not it,’ said Beverley, shaking her head. ‘Although, speaking as a mother, I do have some strong words for him regarding my daughter, with whom he had an inappropriate relationship that he never revealed to me. Look, is he here? As much as I’m enjoying this conversation, I really need to talk to him.’
Dr Tataryn shook her head. ‘He not here,’ she said.
‘Where is he?’
‘Why I should tell you this? Maybe you want to hunt him down and shoot him?’
‘I assure you that I don’t,’ said Beverley. ‘And you were the one offering me a horsewhip a moment ago.’
‘Man put baby in my belly when I am girl,’ said Dr Tataryn. ‘My father, he horsewhip him. Man marry me, though.’
‘I see.’
Beverley looked around, hoping that the front door might open and her erstwhile lover would appear, but there was only silence from the staircase outside.
‘The thing is,’ said Beverley, turning back to her host, ‘when Pylyp left London … oh, I’m so sorry. I haven’t even offered my condolences.’
‘Condolences? What are these?’
‘Expressions of sadness. On your recent loss.’
‘What loss?’
‘Your husband.’
Dr Tataryn stared at her in surprise. ‘My husband is dead ten years,’ she said. ‘Killed by tram. I do not cry then and I do not cry now. He free up my life to be better brain surgeon.’
Beverley stared at her, unsure how to take this news. ‘But Pylyp said he died only recently,’ she said. ‘That’s why he came home, isn’t it? To bury him and comfort you.’
‘If Pylyp say this, then Pylyp lie. Unless he dig father up and bury him again someplace else. But I do not think this likely.’
‘I don’t think this likely either,’ said Beverley, looking down at the floor in despair. ‘But he is staying with you, isn’t he?’
‘He was staying with me,’ admitted Dr Tataryn. ‘But not now. He leave.’
‘Where did he go?’
‘He go back to London.’
‘But that’s impossible,’ cried Beverley. ‘I’ve been calling and messaging and emailing and have heard nothing in return. I thought he was dead. Or off fighting the Russians.’
Dr Tataryn laughed. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Boy who spends life dancing is off fighting the Russians. This seem idea for comedy show. Or film with the Eddie Murphys. Say again how you know my son?’
‘As I told you, we met on Strictly Come Dancing.’
‘What is this Strictly Come Dancing?’
‘It’s a television programme where celebrities dance with professional dancers and a team of judges rates their performances.’
‘Why?’
‘Why what?’
‘Why they do this?’
‘Well, to entertain an audience. And to raise their public profile, I suppose. Most of them are washed-up soap stars or retired politicians. I was brought in to appeal to the intellectuals.’
Dr Tataryn considered this. ‘People are entertained by watching other people dance?’ she asked.
‘I know it sounds odd, but it’s actually very enjoyable. There are some lovely costumes. And a lot of sequins. Thousands of sequins, in fact. Millions, probably. And a glitterball for the winner.’
Dr Tataryn shook her head.
‘And you were on this programme?’
‘I was, yes.’
‘So you celebrity?’
‘Of a sort.’
‘I thought you say you write books?’
‘I do. But they’re very popular books. And my husband is quite famous too. People know our name. We’re what’s called a power couple.’
‘What is this power couple?’
‘It’s a husband and wife, high achievers both, who are in the public eye.’
‘Like the Prince William and the Kate Middletons?’
‘Well, I’m not sure they’d describe themselves in that way,’ said Beverley. ‘More like the Beckhams, really.’
‘Who is this Beckhams?’
‘David and Victoria. You must have heard of them? He was a footballer and she was a Spice Girl. Now, they’re basically like Maria and Captain von Trapp from The Sound of Music, pimping out their children in order to keep the brand alive.’
‘And what they do, these children?’
‘Nothing, as far as I can tell. But they take a lot of pictures of themselves doing it. I’m not sure their ambitions stretch any further than that.’
‘They sound like sluts.’
‘Indeed.’
‘And Pylyp, he dances with you?’
‘We danced many dances.’
‘And then you sex him?’
Beverley’s mouth opened and closed a few times in surprise. ‘Well, yes. I sexed him. I mean, we sexed each other. I mean, we had sex with each other. That is to say, we made love.’
‘You old woman, but still you sex boy like Pylyp?’
‘I’m not an old woman,’ insisted Beverley. ‘I’m a lady of a certain age. And Pylyp is not a boy. He’s a man.’
‘He is boy. And you sex him. You like sexing the little boys?’
‘He’s not little.’
‘He is little where it matters,’ said Dr Tataryn, tapping her forehead. ‘Up here. Up here in brain. I never perform surgery on him up here because is nothing to work on.’
‘I think you’re being very unfair, if you don’t mind me saying so.’
‘I do mind you saying so. I don’t need you to tell me about my stupid son. And I do not like you sexing him. Bouncy-bouncy is not right for woman as old as you.’
‘Well, I enjoyed sexing him and I’d like to go on doing it, so perhaps we can put an end to this inane conversation and you can tell me where he’s gone.’
‘I tell you already. He go back to London.’
‘But that’s impossible!’
‘Why is impossible? Is very possible. Plane brings you here. Plane sends him there. He like London. Many women there to dance with and sex.’
Beverley looked down at her hands, which were trembling slightly, and for the first time she noticed how thin her fingers had grown. Blue veins had appeared under her skin too. These were not the hands that had attracted so many admirers in her youth. A thought occurred to her.
‘Do you know a young woman?’ she asked. ‘With frizzy black hair, big bosoms and long legs?’
‘You mean Karabina?’
‘Do I?’
‘I don’t know, do you?’
‘I saw her. Here. In this apartment. When I was Skyping Pylyp. She kept appearing in the background. He said she was his cousin.’
Dr Tataryn laughed. ‘She not his cousin. He sex her. He sex her all the time when he is here. You very stupid woman. Maybe you perfect for my son.’