Alex Parr recalls meeting the lethally cunning Russian double agent in his Surrey safe house
In 1996, the Russian double agent Oleg Gordievsky (1938-2025) invited me to afternoon tea at his Surrey safe house.
Oleg had a death sentence hanging over his head after he’d passed on a treasure trove of intelligence to Britain and MI6 exfiltrated him from Russia.
At a London party, I met the short, balding 58-year-old with Margaret, the new woman in his life – a matron at Wellington College.
‘But we cannot give you the address,’ said Oleg, in his heavily accented English, after he’d asked me to tea.
His instructions were to take a 50-minute train journey from Waterloo to Godalming, where I would be collected in an unspecified vehicle. Once there, I was told to stand outside in the car park – and wait.
After a few minutes, Oleg and Margaret pulled up in their car. He drove me down numerous roads until we arrived outside an anonymous-looking bungalow chalet. I hadn’t a clue where I was – and I knew not to ask.
In the chintzy sitting room, Oleg offered me a traditional afternoon tea with a Victoria sponge cake.
‘I love England,’ he said, with conviction.
Later, as he relaxed, he asked, ‘You like schnapps?’ He added, ‘Come outside. I have something to show you.’
We went out into the garden.
‘This is my banya,’ he said, brandishing a twig and pointing to a solid, squat, square sauna building.
‘Margaret and I go inside naked, it gets very hot, and we hit each other with twigs,’ he said, deadpan. ’This is something from home I cannot live without.’
Oleg , the lethally cunning, successful agent who helped to bring down the Soviet empire, was a cuddly spy and Margaret his homespun companion.
A few years ago, I was en route to an event in Surrey when I found myself travelling down a typical English avenue, which seemed vaguely familiar. It was Oleg’s gaff. Finally, I worked out where I’d been that very weird day.
