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Jennie agreed and said that it looked wonderful, better than anything did she had hoped for.
Sergei pointed to the stables as we flew by. "Look, that is where we keep the horses. Your children have enjoyed the horses already," he smiled, and turned around towards the rear of the plane, to were the children were. "And what about you?" he asked me. "Are you interested in horseback riding? Do you think you will enjoy living in Russia?"
I nodded and said that I was delighted with what I saw.
"Welcome to our ranch, my friend," said Sergei and reached out his hand for a handshake.
"Thank you, friend," I said in return. "You do have a beautiful place here, and thank you so much for inviting us." We shook hands. He smiled, but said nothing more.
The plane touched down on a gravel airstrip that belonged to the ranch. We landed in the middle of a big meadow, bordered on one side by the lake and a forest on the other. When the aircraft came to a stop, a small bus appeared. A civilian driver, who greeted us in English, drove us to the house. Sergei introduced us. He said his name is Peter, his personal secretary.
At the house two Japanese people greeted us, which Melanie introduced as Yoshi and Rumico, their Japanese host for several months. "Yoshi and Frank have worked together as a team during the early rescue missions, until Frank's death," Melanie explained.
I could hardy believe what was happening. I remembered the man's face from the newspaper picture. I had determined that some day I would seek out this man. Now he stood before us. I felt tremendously honored that this man and his wife had made the effort to accompany Melanie and the children to Russia. I said something to the effect as we shook hands. He told me that Frank had spoken a great deal about me when they worked together, and that he was glad to meet me in person. I could have hugged the man, but felt this might not be a Japanese custom.
The great house was as much a surprise as anything else we had so far found in Russia. It was larger than it appeared from the air. The ceilings were high. The front doors were made of panels of solid oak, carved with a family crest. The entrance hall was immense. It featured an open semi-circular staircase that rose an imposing three stories with an appropriately large crystal chandelier hanging low from the domed ceiling. Two full-length windows illumined the entrance hall. On the ground level, two opposing mirrors set into the walls complemented the windows. In between them, three sets of sliding doors gave access to the various rooms. One door was partially left open. The room behind it was a formal dining room. It was a large room with oriental carpeting and equally large windows that offered a view of the lake and the garden at the side of the house. However, before we had a chance to see more of it, we were told by Peter that dinner was ready and would be served in fifteen minutes. Apparently, the flight had taken longer than expected.
On Igor's urging we hurried upstairs, got washed, changed our clothes. Igor told us all about the customs that would be observed in his father's house. Rule number one: No one is ever late for a meal. Rule number two: On formal occasions, the dress code is formal. That day was definitely a formal occasion. "Tonight's dinner will be the most elegant affair you have ever attended," he said. He lent me one of his own suits for the occasion. Jennie borrowed one of Melanie's dresses. The children were at their best. Melanie told us they'd been given a brand new wardrobe in Japan.
Actually, Igor was only partially right. No only was the affair undoubtedly formal, the dinner was a mighty feast complete with caviar, champagne, home made fruit juice for the children, a selection of fine pastry for dessert. "Not even our daughter's wedding had been as gracious as this," I overheard Laara telling Melanie.
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