CHAPTER ONE
BAPTIZED INTO GREATNESS
Irina Abramovich was heavily pregnant when she journeyed more than 700 miles south from her home in northern Russia to stay with her mother in Saratov on the banks of the River Volga. Saratov was her home town and she would often try to persuade her husband Arkady that they would be happier there, but he liked living in Syktyvkar, the capital of the Komi region, despite the bitterly cold winters. Still, at least she could see out her pregnancy somewhere slightly warmer and have her mother on hand as she gave birth for the first time. Saratov has produced such a long list of writers, thinkers, singers and conductors over the years that Russians say those born in the city are born under a lucky star. Irina gave birth there on 24 October 1966, but it soon began to look as if her son Roman Arkadievich Abramovich was influenced not by a lucky star but by a menacing cloud. When Irina found herself pregnant for a second time less than a year after having her first baby, she opted for a back street abortion rather than having a second mouth to feed during a period when times were particularly hard. Tragically, blood poisoning set in as a result and, the day before her son's first birthday, she died. She was just 28.
Naturally, her death came as 'a terrible shock' to Arkady, says his best friend, Vyacheslav Shulgin. The two, who were both Jewish, had met in the early Sixties through their work at thesovnarkhoz (the national economic council) in Syktyvkar. Prior to Arkady's marriage, along with another colleague called Filchik the pair would socialize together, chase women and dream of the day they would achieve their ambition of moving to Israel. Arkady was a handsome man,' recalls Shulgin, 'and he was the most boisterous and most sociable member of our team.'
Following his wife's death, Arkady threw himself into his work and, although he was a devoted father, his work commitments were such that the infant Roman, known to everyone as Romka, went to live with his paternal grandmother, Tatyana. By now Arkady was head of the supplies division of a large construction enterprise but he was frustrated by the restrictions of office life and is remembered as an energetic man who got involved in many aspects of the business that were not strictly his responsibility.
So it was no surprise when, one Saturday in May 1969, he volunteered to supervise some construction work. Shulgin vividly recalls what happened that day: 'When they were moving the crane into position, the arm broke off and crushed Arkady's legs. My best friend died a few days later. The doctors told me that this was a highly unusual case. Particles of bone marrow had clogged his arteries. We buried Arkady next to his wife.'
And so, the unfortunate Roman Abramovich was left an orphan at the age of two and a half. One East European novelist writes of orphans being 'baptized into greatness', his logic being that they grow up weighed down by none of the restrictive expectations of parents that constrain the rest of us. His relatives could only hope that this would turn out to be true. Rather than being left with his grandmother in Syktyvkar or being consigned to a grim future in a state orphanage, the young Roman was adopted by Arkady's brother Leib and his wife Ludmilla, a former beauty queen. The couple already had two daughters, Natasha and Ida (respectively 13 and 10 years older th
