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But Anna remained perfectly calm. She reached for her coat. ‘I’ll go to see Valya in Moscow. She’ll be alone with the children.’

She was calm, but she wasn’t thinking straight, either. Of course she could not just walk out of the door and go to Moscow. She had to get herself to the railway station several kilometres away. Perhaps Valentin could organize a lift for her.

Then they turned on the radio.

Anna put on her quilted coat and best headscarf, then left to see about a train ticket. Zoya contacted her hospital and told them she felt too unwell to work. ‘A neighbour came into the house to sit with us, and we listened to the radio. The music with the news reports was cheerful, and we felt a little more at ease. Then the music stopped, and the announcer said that the name of Major Yuri Alexeyevich Gagarin was to be included in the Komsomol Central Committee Roll of Honour. “That’s what they do for dead people,” I thought.’

Much to Zoya’s relief, the TASS radio reports resumed their cheerful tone, and the music came on again, a patriotic march. The announcer said that Gagarin had landed safely. ‘It seemed like a huge rock had fallen off my shoulders,’ Zoya recalls.

Valentin Gagarin, who lived just next door, was strolling down the road towards work, after spending an hour’s lunch break at home, when he heard the news somewhat indirectly. Suddenly his little daughter Olya called after him, ‘Papa, come back quickly! Mamma’s crying!’

There was a flurry of shouting and rushing from one house to another. Yura was in space, and Anna needed someone to drive her to the station so that she could get to Moscow . . .

For Valentin, it was the parked trucks that made it seem real. He was working in the motor pool. When he reported to the office, he found something strange going on – or, rather, not going on. ‘All the trucks were lined up in readiness for their rounds, as usual. The doors of the maintenance shed were open, but none of the drivers were sitting in their cabs. Every engine was switched off. The managers waiting at the other end of the routes weren’t calling in to complain about their missing loads. But they always called . . . Nobody in the motor pool was moving. Valentin went to the foreman to see about some time off to take his mother to the station. My boss said, “Can’t you see? None of the drivers are working today because they’re all listening to the radio about your little brother in space.” So I asked: could I borrow a truck for an hour? In his excitement he yelled at the top of his voice, “Yes, take any truck you like. Take the nearest and go!” I climbed into a fuel tanker because it was the first vehicle I found with the keys still in the ignition.’

Valentin picked Anna up near the old electrical sub-station. They had fifteen minutes before the Moscow train was due to leave. As they approached the station there was some confusion with a local motorbike policeman, who wanted to know why Valentin was in such a tearing hurry. When it transpired that he had the First Cosmonaut’s mother in his truck, things went more smoothly. The train was already pulling away from the platform, but the stationmaster quickly put out a signal to stop it. ‘Mother got aboard, and the ticket officer ran into the carriage also, because in her distraction she’d forgotten to collect her change.’

His nerves thoroughly rattled, Valentin now had to go straight away to the district Party office, because there were many phone calls to answer.

For his part, Yuri’s father Alexei Gagarin had left the house very early that morning. There was a job on at the collective farm near Klushino, their old home village. He was contentedly going about his business when another farm worker came up to him and started asking strange questions about his son Yuri. ‘What’s it to you?’ Alexei demanded warily.4

‘Didn’t you hear? On the radio they said that Major Gagarin is flying in space.’

‘No, my son’s only a Senior Lieutenant. Still, good luck to our namesake, eh?’

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