Chapter 23
John Cherney sat in his office wading through the paperwork. Not the career he'd felt destined for when he walked through the 'doors' of Cambridge University on a scholarship but it was one he was making a decent living from all the same. It wasn't the University that introduced him to Socialism and the Communists, that was his parents, but it had introduced him to his wife and it was there they fell into each other's company and several student societies.
She was in her last year of a law degree when the young handsome undergraduate caught her eye. Already on the prowl for a wife to add to his cover, it wasn't just her beauty that attracted him; her politics were a bonus he'd be a fool to resist. So, he didn't.
She graduated the following year and he 'dropped out'. He didn't particularly want to but his handler was pretty insistent. They'd had enough of male Cambridge graduates, for the time being, Burgess and Maclean had seen to that. No, they were heading for another route.
His parents had managed to make it to Britain in the twenties, escaping from the horrors of the revolution and its infighting. The family surname was formally changed from Chernikoff to Cherney to assimilate them into society and his father gained employment printing Socialist newspapers. His mother remained a housewife and ensured that young John studied hard both academically and politically with the insistence he never spoke of the latter. Their NKVD pay had been collected twice yearly on her visits to a 'maiden aunt' in Belgium and it always paid to travel from diverse ports whilst looking slightly pregnant. The war years were endured like everyone else and naturally, the payments became impossible to collect. Afterwards, the NKVD forgot about the wages and, as it mutated eventually to the KGB, no one seemed inclined to remember.
His wife Helen, of good middle-class stock, had resented her parents' snobbish attitude and fell easily for the allure of Socialism, the rest becoming a natural progression for her rebellious nature. Following their marriage in 1957, they ostensibly honeymooned in Italy but travelled on to Corfu where, one very dark night, they took a short, clandestine boat trip to Albania where Russian military advisors completed their political training and taught them the skills that were necessary for their future mission, should it ever be activated.
Returning home through Italy, she started working for a local law firm before finding employment with the county police as one of the force solicitors.
Cherney looked up at the clock. Time to go, he'd done enough for today and was keen to get home in time to watch the Soviet Union in the semi-final. After locking the office and main door, he wandered over to the attached garage workshop.
"I'm off now, Mike. How's it going with the Humber Hawk? Is she nearly ready?" he enquired.
The mechanic stood wiping his hands on a dirty rag. "She'll be ready by tomorrow first thing, Mister Cherney. Just waiting for the paint to fully dry before I give her a final wipe over." He threw the rag onto the tool bench. "Have they found who did the damage yet?"
John shook his head. "Haven't heard anything back at present. Have a nice evening, Mike."
"Bloody hit and run drivers. Probably drunk. Don't forget the match is on tonight," Mike called after him.