Goldengirl

‘Oh, quite credible to me,’ said Serafin. ‘Without presuming to boast, I knew she would win. She is unique, you see.’

‘No one here is going to disagree with that, Doc.’

‘Yes, but I wasn’t using the term superficially. She is physiologically unique. Her skeletal development—’

‘Her what? I didn’t catch that.’

‘Her skeletal development. The configuration of her bones. If I may explain—’

‘First tell us how you feel, Doc.’

‘Feel?’

‘Yeah, you must be over the moon right now.’

‘There’s an element of satisfaction, yes.’

‘Well, how about that for Quote of the Week? “An element of satisfaction.” Just now I said you were the proudest man in the Lenin Stadium. Maybe “coolest” would be more apt. And there we must leave it. With the first U.S. gold medal in track going to Goldine Serafin, of Bakersfield, California, I return you to Dave Yardley in New York.’

In the Stadium, two large men in U.S. blazers were steering Goldine off the track to the competitors’ tunnel in a throng of pressmen and cameras.

‘What happens now?’ asked Melody. ‘Does she get her medal?’

‘Tomorrow. The action’s over for the day, so the crowd are going home,’ said Dryden. ‘There should be a press conference shortly, and I want to get a word with her, if I can, before it starts. Would you wait?’

He made his way below. One of the architectural achievements of the Lenin Stadium is that a capacity crowd can be dispersed within six minutes. This assumes that everyone is making for the nearest exit. Dryden wanted the press center under the west stand. He got there by degrees and brute stubbornness. It was a good thing he had left Melody upstairs; anyone as small as she would have found themselves outside and halfway to the metro station by now.

He confirmed with a photographer by the entrance that Goldine hadn’t yet arrived for the conference. Uncertain which direction she would approach from, he waited there till he spotted a face he knew among those streaming inside: Klugman, actually smiling.

In time, he remembered Klugman’s personal stake in this, and held out his hand to him. ‘Congratulations! Beautifully managed!’

‘Thanks.’ Klugman was pink with pride. ‘I’ll enjoy it myself when I see it on TV. She did everything right. But for the crosswind, she’d have taken the world record.’

‘The important thing was taking Ursula Krüll. Where is Goldine now?’

‘The doctor’s looking at her,’ said Klugman. He held up his hand. ‘No sweat, it’s routine. You’d like to see her? I can get you in.’

He led Dryden back along the covered area under the stand to where each team management had its individual office. There was a cluster of cameramen outside the U.S. office. Klugman spoke to the two men on the door and Dryden was allowed past.

He pushed open a second door. It looked unlike any office in his experience. There was a bed in the center and Goldine was lying on it, still in her tracksuit, except the shoes. At a table to the right a girl in a blue nylon coat was testing urine in a chemical flask. Two men in white jackets were by the bed, one making notes, the other holding a syringe containing blood. He turned as Dryden entered and asked, ‘Who the hell are you?’

‘It’s okay,’ said Goldine, glancing expressionlessly at Dryden. ‘Personal friend.’

The doctor wasn’t satisfied. ‘Look, this isn’t—’

‘Save it,’ snapped Goldine. ‘I said he was my friend. Well,’ she asked Dryden, ‘are you here to congratulate me, or not?’

Something in her tone stopped him. ‘It’ll keep,’ he said. ‘You’ll get plenty of that. There’s this press conference coming up. I want to speak to you about it. There’s a man called Esselstyn.’ Dryden described him briefly. ‘You haven’t met him already? Good. If he’s there, he could be difficult. Likes to put the knife in. He, er, has a theory that you trained a long time for this. He doesn’t believe the jogging story. If I were you, I wouldn’t mention it unless you have to. You follow me?’

‘You came here to tell me that?’ she said without showing if it had registered.

‘There’s something else,’ Dryden quickly added. ‘Did you know the TV people have brought your father to Moscow?’

‘Doc? He’s not my father. You know that.’

‘That’s a technicality so far as the media are concerned,’ said Dryden. ‘They may want to lay on some kind of meeting between the two of you.’

‘They can go jump,’ said Goldine. ‘I won’t go near him.’

He moved closer, trying to exclude the medical team from the conversation. This had got off to a bad start. She was edgy, and so was he. Damn it, it was like prison visiting. ‘I’m not suggesting you agree to meet him,’ he said in an undertone. ‘Just keep it on a low key. Tell them you need to rest, or train, or something. Remember what they’ve written about the adoption, your happy childhood... I know how you feel about this, but it’s important to be consistent, to come up to the Goldengirl image. If anyone mentions your father—’