The First Shadows of Morning

By Timothy Noble

A young British businessman is sent to Ukraine to help formulate a strategy for a company near Kyiv which is owned by the London-based group he works for. He encounters corruption and gangs, and the effects of the civil war in the east between government forces and Russian-backed militants, as well as falling in love.
There is an explosion in the factory. He has to work out who has caused it and why, at the same time trying to save the business.
This leads to narrow escapes from death and to fear at a level he has never felt before. His experiences greatly expand the repertoire of his emotions and change the direction of his life.
“In an unusual and interesting setting, Timothy Noble has penned a thoroughly satisfying and exciting read.”
— Alexander McCall Smith

• Language: English
• Publisher: Austin Macauley Publishers
• Release date: Apr 30, 2021
• ISBN: 9781528989602

Timothy Noble

Timothy Noble had an international upbringing, which included schooling in Helsinki. He studied at Oxford University and then did a postgraduate degree in France before spending many years working in industry and finance. He now focuses on writing full time. He has published a family history, Noble Blood. This is his first novel, with more in the pipeline. He is also publishing an anthology of his poems, A Singer Without a Song. He lives in Edinburgh with his wife. His three children have now grown up and flown the nest.

Book preview

Ukraine

About the Author

Timothy Noble had an international upbringing, which included schooling in Helsinki. He studied at Oxford University and then did a postgraduate degree in France before spending many years working in industry and finance. He now focuses on writing full time. He has published a family history, Noble Blood. This is his first novel, with more in the pipeline. He is also publishing an anthology of his poems, A Singer Without a Song.

He lives in Edinburgh with his wife. His three children have now grown up and flown the nest.

Dedication

To my wife and children,

without whom life would have been much less fun.

Copyright Information ©

Timothy Noble (2021)

The right of Timothy Noble to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by the author in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.

Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

ISBN 9781528989596 (Paperback)

ISBN 9781528989602 (ePub e-book)

www.austinmacauley.com

First Published (2021)

Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd

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Canary Wharf

London

E14 5LQ

Author’s Postscript

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters in this book, apart from the public political figures, are creatures of my imagination. Even the public political figures are portrayed as I imagine them rather than as they actually are. Where publicly known incidents are described, they are described as I believe them to have happened.

Ukraine is a wonderful place. Not only is the architecture less communist than one expects, but the people really are as friendly as I have described in this book, while the girls are indeed as beautiful. The level of petty theft is no worse than in the west: tourists will enjoy their visit. Muggings are extremely rare, probably rarer than in London or Paris: they have only been described in this book in order to show what can happen. Tourists are very unlikely to come into contact with any criminal gangs unless they deliberately stray into the businesses operated by the gangs. There are gangs but again probably not to any significant extent more than in western Europe. The man in the street will also not nowadays experience any requests for bribes or other inducements.

To all intents and purposes, therefore, Ukraine is like any other western European country. Unfortunately, however, the country was plagued by a political vacuum on its independence in 1991 and then a very poor quality of venal politicians, but of course there are very few countries which do not have poor quality politicians. In Ukraine they allowed corruption and criminality to thrive after the fall of communism with themselves as the major beneficiaries. In this respect the country is no different from the majority of the former Soviet Republics. Corruption appears to be thriving at many levels of government, and not only at lower levels. This allows them – and those close to them – to ‘personalise’ state assets, and perhaps even tax revenues. Those at the very top control the judicial process so that they decide who can be prosecuted. The man in the street has no trust in prosecutors or judges or the integrity of the police force. Once corruption has become widespread in a country for decades, it is a very difficult and slow process to change mindsets. Fortunately, the new President elected in 2019 is a fresh face who appears determined to eliminate all corruption among politicians and the outlook appears to be bright.

In addition, Ukraine has also suffered enormously from its geographical situation. This has made it a pawn in a chess game between the West and Russia. Neither side wants to lose the battle for control of Ukraine (maybe partly in order not to lose face). Perhaps more importantly the majority of the people in Ukraine seem to want to align themselves with the west but the minority which seems to want to be aligned with Russia feels sufficiently strongly against this to fight for it and neither government wishes to compromise.

At the same time, I thought it was important to redress the balance of novels in which businessmen are mostly portrayed as nasty, evil, and profiteering at the expense of any sense of humanity. From my own experience I know that this is completely untrue. Businessmen care deeply about their employees and their customers (often to the detriment of their profits and their shareholders), and not just because business success depends on satisfying the needs of all stakeholders.

It has been a revelation to me how much a work of fiction is a team effort and not just the output of an unhinged author. There are many others who have helped to make this book happen and whom I need to thank.

In the first place I must thank those who have helped with my research into Ukraine and other details included in the book. They are Natalia Lumen and her father, Oleksiy Kurka, and Peter O’Brien.

Secondly there are those involved in the production of the book. Stephanie Cross, David Robinson, and Andrew Noble helped with constructive editorial comments. The team at Austin Macaulay, led by Anna Cooper, has also helped greatly with cover design, editing, printing and publication.

Thirdly there are those who helped me personally – in particular my wife with her support and patience, not to mention her excellent cooking.

I enjoyed writing the book and I hope that it also gives pleasure to those who read it.

Part One

The Explosion

September 2018

Chapter One

Early September

For now we see through a glass darkly.

(King James Bible: 1 Corinthians 13 Verse 12)

His phone rang at nine on a Sunday evening at the beginning of September after he had finished dinner with Irina. It was Andrej.

Alex, I am sorry to trouble you at home late at night but I have some important news for you. I am afraid it is terrible news.

What is it, Andrej? He did not know what to expect but was already worried.

There was an explosion this evening at the factory a couple of hours ago. It is badly damaged.

What! How did it happen? Was anyone hurt?

As far as I know at this stage, nobody was hurt. It happened this evening and of course nobody was at work today.

What is the extent of the damage?

It is difficult to tell just yet. My impression is that the production line for the dry wafer biscuits is totally destroyed. The production lines for the sweet biscuits and the confectionery may or may not be able to be salvaged but any repairs would take months. It may be easier and cheaper to order new machines. The chocolate coating line may be less damaged but with nothing to coat it would be useless. I can’t yet check on the stores of raw materials and finished goods.

What caused it?

We cannot tell the answer to that question yet. However, the police think a detonator was probably used. That of course means a deliberate act.

We pay people to protect the factory. Were they asleep? Or were they the ones who caused the explosion?

I don’t know the answer to that question either. We definitely need to ask them in the morning.

Thank you for letting me know, Andrej. I will cancel my appointments for tomorrow and come to the factory as soon as I can in the morning so that we can assess what the position is. Could you also call Grigoriy to let him know? Tell him we will call him in the morning when we have better information. Andrej was the production director and Grigoriy was the sales director of Smolensky Foods, a company based in Ukraine. Five months earlier Alex had been sent from London to evaluate its position and its potential. In his report to London he had recommended expanding the business with a new product and new markets. As a result, he had been given the role of implementing that strategy. An explosion was definitely not part of the plan.

He suspected that there would be some intense hard work while the position was assessed. They would need to work out how to deal with customers and suppliers, as well as ensuring the business had enough cash to cover the cost of repairs and the inevitable losses over the next few months when there would be no income to cover the costs. Luckily, he had arranged insurance for the factory a few months before but he was nervous that the insurers might reject a claim caused by a deliberate explosion in a country which was troubled by a civil war.

However, there were other thoughts whirling through his mind as well. Was this just an accident? Or was it a deliberate act of sabotage? It sounded like sabotage. If so, who had caused it? Why? Could it have been done by a competitor? Or somebody inside the company? Or could it have been a terrorist act – perhaps some sort of nationalist attack against a foreign-owned company? Or could it be linked to the war in the eastern part of the country? Could it even have been endorsed by the government? Could it therefore be something which could happen again? If it was likely to reoccur, was it pointless to spend money on getting the production lines running again? He felt he had to find out the answers to these questions fast. Already he had identified in his mind one or two specific suspects.

Part Two

Before the Explosion

March to September 2018

Chapter One

Late March

A journey of a thousand miles must begin with a single step.

(Lao Tzu)

It was the last week of March. The fields were still waiting for the warmth of the sun to encourage crops to rise out of the land and start to wave in the wind, but the skies were grey and the earth was still in parts covered by snow. It was a time when the promise of summer was beginning to vie with the waning of winter. The view from the window seemed to echo life as houses and small villages in the foreground rushed past in no more than a second or two, while in the distance the ploughed fields and flat landscape remained the same for hour after hour: transient visions competing for attention against a permanent backdrop.

A train journey is a time for reflection. It is also sometimes even an adventure itself, leading to a new beginning. It was all of this for Alex that day. Behind him lay a normal working way of life in London with friends and family close by. Ahead of him was a new and risky assignment in a new country, but he hoped it might also bring new friends. He felt both an adrenalin rush of excitement and also trepidation at the challenge, as well as an element of regret at seeing less of those left behind. He guessed that the same emotions had been felt by emigrants everywhere over the centuries, as well as those posted to India or the Far East to help build the British Empire or to other faraway countries to help build businesses. The big difference was that he would be able to fly back home for a weekend.

He wondered idly why he was on this journey at all. The simple answer was that he worked for a big international food company in London and he had been asked to assess a small new subsidiary in Ukraine. He had liked the idea of an unusual and challenging task. However, as usual in life, the real answer was rather more complex. He had felt the need to move abroad for a while. His year abroad in St Petersburg while studying Russian at university had given him a taste for living in other parts of the world and he felt life in London had become a little stale. He had been a spy – well, to be truthful, he had actually only had a boring job in MI6 for a year – and he had been a journalist focusing on Russia – another boring job. Now he was a businessman heading for eastern Europe because of his fluency in Russian. Even as he thought of this, he realised that it was not the full truth. He had just split up with his girlfriend, Rachel. Although she had slept with another man, he had pangs of guilt that maybe he had been too brutal and unforgiving in his immediate rejection of her as a result. Had he actually wanted to break up with her? Did he just use her infidelity as an excuse? The answer to both questions was probably yes. He would be embarrassed to meet her again socially. Therefore, he would have leapt at any job outside London and had even thought of going to business school abroad to get away from London for a year or two. From Ukraine he would still be able to see his parents in Edinburgh where he had been brought up, as well as his older sister in Newcastle with her husband and her two children, but perhaps not quite as often as he had done when living in London.

He had decided to travel by train because he had several bags with him and a journey of several days was not a problem timewise. It also allowed him to start to tackle the pile of books which had sat by his bed for months. Even looking at it had produced the guilty realisation that his principal reading material outside work in the past year had probably been menus and wine lists. He had therefore taken the Eurostar train to Brussels, then an intercity train to Cologne, before boarding the sleeper to Vienna. This produced stunning views of the German countryside as it wound down the side of the Rhein past Koblenz, arriving in Vienna in time for breakfast the next day. He spent a night in Vienna in order to enjoy the beauties and theatre of that city. One of the Viennese bridges over the Danube is known locally by its nickname of Morgenbrucke, which means literally Morning Bridge. However, ‘morgen’ also means ‘tomorrow’. On crossing Tomorrow’s Bridge, you automatically leave all your yesterdays behind you. It seemed very symbolic. Images flashed into his mind of his schooldays in Edinburgh, of his student days at university in Oxford, and of his past girlfriends, especially Rachel. Was he running away from all of this? Or just from her? He did not like the thought but could not erase it from his mind.

The next afternoon he boarded the sleeper from Vienna to Kiev (or Kyiv in Ukrainian). This was a 24-hour journey. After crossing the border from southern Poland into western Ukraine, he was on the last leg of the journey watching the endless flat farming countryside flash past him, with fields and scattered houses and the occasional village. Among his emotions, excitement began to get the upper hand.

A surprisingly young smartly-dressed female conductor came along the train to check tickets, followed by a much older individual in a crumpled uniform whose job it was to check passports and visas. His age made him look world-weary, emphasised by his wild mop of white hair and white moustache. One could almost imagine that he composed classical music in his spare time. Perhaps he was selected because he had seen it all so that he would not be fooled by youngsters trying to get through with the use of tricks. He had penetrating brown eyes which seemed to peer into Alex’s soul. How many character flaws had he found there? In his present mood Alex was feeling introspective and vulnerable. He believed he must be guilty of all of the seven deadly sins. The old man’s eyes took in all the bags around Alex.

Are you planning to spend the rest of your life in Kyiv? The question was spoken in Ukrainian but Alex could not understand it. He had been led to expect that with his knowledge of Russian he would be able to read written Ukrainian and ought to be able to understand spoken Ukrainian to some extent. He had failed at the first hurdle. He replied in Russian to say that unfortunately he could not understand. The old man immediately switched to Russian and reposed the question. As Alex had been told, almost all Ukrainians are fluent in Russian, having learnt it at school. The difference between the two languages is like the difference between Spanish and Portuguese, but a thick accent – especially as spoken by western Ukrainians like the old man – is very difficult even for other Ukrainians to understand.

I am guilty of lots of failings but that would be a life sentence. Is there any chance of being allowed to stay for a shorter period?

Oh yes. You can protest publicly about our government. Then you would be forcibly deported and not allowed back in.

Should I try Russia instead?

You have to be joking. I came from Moscow for a month nearly forty years ago. I met a Ukrainian girl and never left. I am afraid a life sentence is normal.

She must have been magnetic.

Yes.

Where does one meet someone like that?

I suggest you don’t go to any night clubs unless you can resist magnetism.

That sounds like good advice.

Good luck. The old man smiled but barely glanced at his passport before moving on.

After stopping at Lviv, the train was due to arrive in Kyiv in several hours’ time on a Tuesday afternoon. From the station he was going to the Premier Palace Hotel in the centre of the city for a few days. He needed to find his bearings, rent an apartment, buy a car, open a bank account and generally settle into his new environment before starting work on the Monday on what was both his challenge and his risky assignment. The risk lay not only in the fact that the outcome would greatly affect his career but also in the fact that Ukraine was in a state of war, described as terrorism by the government in Kyiv and as freedom-fighting by those in the east. The regions of Donetsk and Luhansk, which were mainly Russian-speaking, had declared independence from Kyiv in 2014. Fighting had been going on since then with close to fifteen thousand dead.

The internal war made the assignment risky, but Alex reckoned the risk was not great because the fighting was still many hundreds of kilometres away. William Shakespeare wrote that journeys end in lovers meeting. This proved true. However, they can also end in foreign countries where the law is not independent of politics and political corruption is rife. As well as excitement and challenge and regret, he should have been feeling fear. The future is an unknown land full of threat as well as promise.

Chapter Two

Late March

"Tyger Tyger burning bright

In the forests of the night."

(William Blake)

The Premier Palace Hotel is one of the prime hotels in Kyiv. Its entrance has an atrium which veers eight stories high towards a large cupola. This lets in light from the sky. Marble is everywhere. Hot and cold running servants scurry about looking important, while behind the reception desks stand male and female employees in impeccable uniforms ready to satisfy the whims of all the guests. The atmosphere exudes wealth. Alex immediately felt guilty to claim the cost on company expenses. However, it had been booked for him by his boss in London as the right way to start his stay in Ukraine. He was therefore not complaining. After checking in, he was shown to his room by a talkative young man hoping for a big tip. He duly obliged.

After breakfast the next morning he consulted the concierge to get advice about his sightseeing for the day. He had already identified various buildings to visit but wanted to see if the hotel was recommending other more interesting sights. Behind the counter was a tall young female. The tag on her chest gave her name as Nadya. She was full of smiles and ready to help with advice. Her English was accented and her grammar in need of improvement, but she preferred to practise her English rather than speak Russian. He reflected that his Russian was anyway probably much worse than her English. She was attractive, with a figure whose curves fitted perfectly into her uniform of a jacket and a skirt with high heels. She told him to go to quite a few sights off the beaten track. She knew the city well.

On a whim he decided that it would help him if she could tell him lots more about local customs and how he should behave. He therefore asked her when she finished work that afternoon, and whether she wanted to help him with more advice over a drink. She looked at him and hesitated before replying, but then said she would be delighted, agreeing to meet at half past six in the hotel bar.

Heading out into the blue skies of Kyiv, he took in the Lavra Monastery, the golden domes of the major churches, the main Maidan Square where all public protests happened, the principal street of Khreshchatyk, the Opera House and the surrounding areas of the city centre. Khreshchatyk is the equivalent of Piccadilly in London, but much bigger and more like the Champs Elysees in Paris. Beyond the pavements are sloping borders filled with plants and then another pavement area which makes the enormous old buildings seem even grander. Maidan Square too is more than twice the size of Piccadilly Circus or the Place de la Concorde. The city centre has an old-world grandeur.

He returned to the hotel at just before six feeling exhausted and having seen nowhere near everything. However, he had achieved the objective of getting to know the centre of the city in broad outline so that he would have a better idea the next day about the right location for an apartment. He had also managed to see one or two of the sights Nadya had recommended, such as the quaint old-time engagement statue in Desatynna Street. He showered and dressed before heading down to the bar in the lobby.

She arrived at the same time as him. He found himself admiring her figure again, now filling a cream-coloured jersey dress. Her dark hair was hanging loosely down to her shoulders whereas it had been drawn back in the morning. She was tall: in her high heels she was almost the same height as him. They exchanged greetings and he told her what he had seen during the day, thanking her for her special suggestions. He was then asking her for advice on how to behave to fit in with the locals. Having seen so many tourists in the hotel she was in a good position to advise him what not to do.

An hour flashed by and he was nowhere near finished with his questions, so that he suggested she join him for dinner in the hotel restaurant, which she seemed happy to do. Over dinner the conversation broadened out when she asked why he was in Kyiv and why he needed to know about local customs. He explained he was expecting to stay for six months at least. He had been sent by his bosses in London to help a company it owned in Ukraine with strategic advice, and then to implement that advice if given the go-ahead to do so. The chance of helping to shape the future of the business and being in charge was exciting at the age of only thirty-one. In return she said that she came from Kharkiv, a city in eastern Ukraine close to the Russian