Alastair Macleod 
The Power of the Protecting Veil 

‘Valentina made the coffee then disappeared for a moment to the loo. She checked herself in the mirror. Hmm, Nikolay was nice. Very very nice. Now she might make an exception for him. She liked his mysterious dark eyes, she felt his hurt. She wanted to take him in her arms, the feeling was strong. She had better calm down. She had seen her mother looking at her. She splashed her face with water and patted it off. What was her mother’s game here? Was she interested in Nikolay? He was handsome and mother was well, only forty two, and, she had to admit, still attractive.
But surely he wouldn’t…. he might. Men were unpredictable. If she, Valentina, was interested in Nikolay she would have to act. But then her boss’s words came back to her “be tentative.” Perhaps that was what her mother was being, by inviting him here for this meal, this was her opening gambit, her tentative approach. Valentina gripped the basin.’Now Valentina, ‘ she said to herself, ‘get back in there and be tentative.’ She took a deep breath and returned to the kitchen. Andreyushka was talking to Nikolay about his work as Yelena cleared away some of the dishes. Valentina helped her; her mother whispered to her,
“He’s nice isn’t he?
“Yes Mama.” said Valentina being tentative. They returned to the table.’

Andreyushka had by now pulled out his cartoons and was showing Nikolay the story board for the “Beast of Moscow. “
“What do you think? Said Yelena, “Is it really out there?
“If it is, ” said Nikolay, “it is probably afraid and doesn’t know where to turn. It will be lonely and feel lost in this big city.”
He said this with such feeling that Valentina could feel her heart melting, for surely, this was how he Nikolay was feeling.
The evening drew to a close. As they stood in the door Valentina took her chance, reached up and gave Nikolay the double hug. She lingered in that embrace just a fraction longer than was normal. She wanted him to feel her warmth, smell her perfume, to feel enveloped, protected.
Her mother had turned away just before this point to re-enter the flat so did not sense this moment but Nikolay did. He seemed a little flustered. He hadn’t been held for a long time not like this. He mumbled goodbye and went off down the stairwell. Valentina watched him go. A bird under her breast was singing. She went to bed early, to savour this new feeling of wanting to care for someone, to want to wrap yourself around them. When her mother came to bed, Valentina was lying with her arms around a pillow in what looked like a passionate embrace’