by Jerry Sacher
“Just go with your gut feelings, Sergei. Don’t fight them. You and I just made love, and it was the best experience in the whole world. Tonight, nothing exists except you and me.” Benjamin stopped talking and left the room. He came back a few moments later with a bottle of wine and glasses.
“Where did you get that? I thought the wine cellar was—”
“Looted, it was, but I remembered that my father kept a bottle of brandy in his dressing room cupboard. Thank heavens he forgot to take it with him.” Benjamin lifted it over his head.
Sergei raised his glass and toasted Benjamin.
“I won’t deny the way I feel about you, my angel, and it sounds like a line out of a lady’s novel, but just for tonight, nothing exists. Tonight there’s no war with Germany, there’s no revolution on the streets of Petrograd. There’s just you and me. Where we are heading with our love, neither of us knows, but let’s not spoil the happiness we have tonight.”
“Amen,” Benjamin whispered. He laid his hands gently on Sergei’s shoulders, leaned forward, and kissed him, feeling Sergei’s response in a deep kiss of his own. Benjamin took Sergei’s hand and led him back to his bed.
When Benjamin opened his eyes, he expected to wake up in his bed at the Hotel Europe with the sun filtering through the lace curtains, finding out to his disappointment that last night with Sergei was only a dream. What he saw instead was the low glow of the fire in the grate, the familiar furnishings of his bedroom at his parents’ home, and Sergei—his dark hair and rugged, handsome face, eyes closed, framed by a white linen pillow.
Benjamin threw the heavy blankets off and set his feet on the floor. With the fire almost burned out, the room was cold. After pulling on his clothes, he searched the house and found some logs in a room his parents had always used for guests. He built up the fire while Sergei was still asleep.
Sergei stirred and Benjamin sat next to him.
“Did you sleep well?”
“Yes, for the first time in a long time. I’m so used to sleeping on Army cots and the rotten mattress at that hotel, that I could have slept for centuries.” Sergei pulled him close once again, and they held each other. Sergei whispered, “I could stay in bed with you for hours, my angel.”
Later, they found more logs to warm up the drawing room, and they sat together on the settee and listened to records on the gramophone. When one finished, Benjamin moved to change it and put on a waltz. He approached Sergei and bowed slightly.
“Pardon me, but may I have this dance?”
They spent hours together blissfully, then left the house in the early afternoon for a walk down the Nevsky Prospekt. The thought of the telegram Benjamin had received from the War Office broke the spell for him. He would have to report to Aldershot, since he had already informed his captain of the departure date of the next available transport: March 1—tomorrow.
Now he had found Sergei, he didn’t want to leave him again, but not reporting back for duty would mean arrest and prison. Benjamin frowned, trying not to let Sergei see his face.
SERGEI NOTICED during their walk Benjamin looked depressed.
“You know you can talk to me if you’re troubled about anything.”
“I know that, Sergei, but right now everything feels perfect, and I don’t want to break the spell. I want our few hours together to be memorable.”
“Why do you say that?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Not to worry, my angel.” Sergei smiled and put his arm around Benjamin’s shoulder.
Benjamin led Sergei to the Hotel Europe. A telegram from his parents awaited him, informing him they had arrived safely in London, though a U-boat had chased them for a short distance as they approached the war zone around the British Isles. Benjamin showed the cable to Sergei, who crossed himself, and handed it back to Benjamin.
“Thank God they’re safe in London.” He sat on the bed and reached a hand toward Benjamin, who laid the telegram aside and joined Sergei on the bed. Their lips touched and a shock of electricity passed between them; they exchanged a nervous giggle. Benjamin reached up and very slowly unbuttoned Sergei’s shirt.
Later when Sergei got up and made his way slowly to the bathroom, he passed by the desk, and his gaze fell on the telegram. The left-hand corner bore the printed words: War Office. Whitehall, London.
Sergei, moved by curiosity, picked up the telegram and read its contents. He could speak English better than read it, but he understood every word perfectly. Benjamin was being ordered back to England. It explained why Benjamin had been so depressed and had no desire to talk about it. Sergei put the telegram back in its place.
BENJAMIN WOKE from his nap and after dressing went with Sergei down to the hotel dining room for an early supper. Sergei again noticed Benjamin was unusually quiet, so he decided to bring up the subject.
“You know something, Benjamin, it’s so difficult to believe that here in Russia we are in the depths of a war and revolution, and that England is fighting the same war on another front. It must feel so far away for you right now.”
“Not so far away…. You’ve seen my telegram, I assume?”
“I’m sorry for reading a telegram addressed to you, but when I saw where it was from, curiosity got the better of me.”
“I’m only sorry that you saw its contents.”
“When do you have to report back?”
“I leave tomorrow, and by ship it’s a couple of days to England, and then to training in Hampshire,” Benjamin replied solemnly.
Benjamin and Sergei sat across the table from each other in silence.
“I wanted these last hours before I leave to be so happy, and here I am spoiling it.”
“You didn’t ruin anything, but while we have this time together, let’s not waste a moment of it.” Sergei smiled.
“Agreed—so what’s the plan?” Benjamin asked.
“It’s four o’clock, and that means we have…. What time does the boat leave?”
“Eight o’clock.”
“That means we have sixteen hours to spend together. Can you ice skate?”
BENJAMIN HAD never seen the sky so pink and gold before when they arrived at a section of the Neva River that had long been used for public ice-skating during the winter months. Benjamin hoped they would be alone, but dozens of people were already on the ice when they arrived. Sergei and Benjamin were a little shaky on the skates at first and propelled themselves forward slowly as fur-clad men and women raced past them, filling the air with colorful ice crystals.
It took a moment or two to steady themselves, and soon they were moving side by side in wide patterns across the ice. Once, Sergei fell and slid on his backside, and Benjamin, stopping to help him, was pulled down alongside him for his trouble. Neither of them could remember laughing so hard, at least not since the war.
They rested on some benches that had been set up along the riverbank, and they watched others who had come out to skate. Benjamin looked up at the golden colors in the sky. He was aware that he was being stared at, and so he turned to meet Sergei’s gaze.
“What is it?”
“Nothing at all, Benjamin, nothing at all. I’ve never been happier than I am at this moment.”
Benjamin wished he could reach out and kiss him, but instead he only replied with a smile.
They got back on the ice again until more people started crowding the river. Benjamin and Sergei turned in their rented skates and went for a walk down the Nevsky Prospekt, then went inside to stroll through the Gostiny Dvor, or indoor market, one of the oldest shopping arcades in Petrograd. Benjamin surprised Sergei with his architectural knowledge by pointing out the neoclassical design of the building and its interior, which housed over one hundred shops.
“Construction was started in 1757, according to a design by Bartolomeo Rastrelli, and the neoclassical designs were added by a Frenchman named Vallin de la Mothe, I believe.”
Benjamin showed him a much newer, more fashionable arcad
e nearby, called the Passage. Sergei and Benjamin walked through the marbled arcade, looking through the empty shop windows into dark interiors. Outside in the doorways, wounded soldiers begged for alms from passersby. They went to a cinema to see a film that had arrived from America called The Stepping Stone. Sergei had never seen a motion picture before, and in the dark he was able to hold Benjamin’s hand. He was enthralled by the action on the screen, and the pianist who played music to accompany the drama: the wife of an unambitious lawyer, giving herself to his partner in exchange for her husband’s position.
They returned late in the evening to the Hotel Europe and made love once again in the privacy of Benjamin’s suite. Lying side by side, they were tired but content.
“It’s a shame we can’t return to the house,” Benjamin said, raising himself up to face Sergei.
“I’m surprised you aren’t staying there.”
“My parents closed the house for the duration… I don’t know if they’ll ever be back, but this suite is fine.” Benjamin leaned forward and kissed Sergei, running his hand over Sergei’s chest. Sergei reached for his hand and brought it to his lips.
WHEN BENJAMIN opened his eyes, it was past three o’clock in the morning. He got out of bed without disturbing Sergei, who was fast asleep and snoring. Benjamin threw a fur-lined robe around his naked body and went to the window. Snow had fallen during the night, and in the distance he spotted the thin light of dawn appearing across the horizon. He had packed his trunks the day before and they were ready for transport to the ship. Benjamin went out into the sitting room, leaving the door cracked open so he could see a strip of light across Sergei’s face.
He hasn’t spoken again about coming with me to England? I’ll ask him when he wakes up. The clock on Benjamin’s desk was ticking away the hours, and soon he would have to leave for the ship. He had to speak with Sergei before it was too late and he found himself back in France.
Benjamin stood and paced the room, occasionally pausing to lift the curtains aside and look down at the street. At this hour, the Nevsky was quiet, except for an occasional motorcar or truck rumbling in front of the hotel. He let the drapes fall and went back to pacing until the clock on a nearby tower chimed five times.
“Damnation!” Benjamin swore and went in to bathe and dress.
SERGEI WOKE to discover Benjamin’s side of the bed was empty. He called out his name, and got no answer. Just then, the door to the suite opened and Benjamin walked in.
“Good morning.” Benjamin sat down on the bed.
Sergei sat all the way up and pulled him close for a kiss. “Good morning. I would hug you, but I would wrinkle the uniform.” Sergei joked, and then looked into Benjamin’s fair eyes. “You have a question to ask me, I can see it in your eyes.”
“Yes, you’re very perceptive,” Benjamin said, but hesitated bringing up the subject. “What do you think the weather will be like today?”
Sergei kissed Benjamin’s hand and held it to his chest. “I don’t know. I haven’t looked out the window yet, but whatever you’re going to say, say it, because your boat sails in a few hours.”
“I know we’ve talked about this, but I want you to come back with me,” Benjamin said in one breath, surprised that he was able to get the words out of his mouth.
“I want nothing more than to go with you, my angel, but….” Sergei’s faced clouded over.
“But what? You’ve changed your mind?”
“It’s a romantic idea, but have you thought about it, really paid any thought to it?”
“As long as we’re together what does anything matter… you told me that yourself.”
“That’s the truth, but our feelings for one another are forbidden. We could not appear among your parents’ friends, or even be seen dancing together, except in the low places where men like us have to go.”
“Hang my parents’ society! What do I care about that kind of thing?”
“You say you don’t care now, but one day you will. You’ll have to. The war won’t last forever, and then you’ll have to go out and find work.”
“You never spoke like this before, Sergei.”
“No, but maybe that’s why I’m so afraid to admit my real feelings for you, to tell you that I love you. What good would it do us, if we have to be parted again, and who knows for how long? Who knows what will happen with the revolution, today or tomorrow, or next year.”
“I’ve been searching Petrograd for you. Can we really be parted now?”
“You’ll go back to France and when the war is over back to England. You’ll find a wife, no doubt picked out by your parents. No matter how progressive your mother may be, gracious lady that she is, she too cares about appearances. You’ll have a family, and all that you’ve experienced here will be a memory.”
“If you come with me, you can maybe join the British Army. At least there’ll be no disorder or lack of supplies. Then when the war is over, we can go to my parents’ country house in Yorkshire. It’s beautiful there, and one of my favorite places.”
“Funny, but you and I have never discussed these things before.” Sergei hugged Benjamin closer to him, watching over his shoulder as the clock ticked down. “Maybe we should have, but now our time is growing short, so let’s not spoil it with disagreements.”
“No, Sergei, you’re right.” Benjamin sniffled and tried to smile, then stood up.
Sergei threw aside the blankets. He leaned forward and kissed Benjamin once again. “I’ll get dressed, and we can go downstairs for breakfast.”
The meal was eaten in silence, but once Benjamin set down his cup, he looked across the table at Sergei. “What will you do after I’m gone?”
“I don’t know really, perhaps I’ll go back to the front.”
“Can you just come and go like that?” Benjamin snapped his fingers. “What about your goals?”
“My goals? I don’t know what they are anymore. I wanted to join the Army, but it was listening to people like my friend Petr and his comrades that made me discontent with my lot at the front, so I was swayed by their words, and I joined the ranks of deserters and came back to Petrograd. I sat in on the meetings and listened to long-winded ideologies until I was bored senseless. None of that is what I want!”
“What is it you want, Sergei? Where is your heart leading you?”
“I hope you’re not going to be philosophical right now. We have so many other things to talk about,” Sergei finished with a sigh.
“I wasn’t going to say anything like that, but I’m your friend, or maybe even more than that.”
“And you want the best for me? Is that what you’re trying to say?” Sergei said, thinking that he was finishing Benjamin’s sentence.
“Well, we always want what’s good for our friends, but that’s not what I was going to say. We don’t have much time left before I have to leave, and there is so much more to say.” Benjamin looked from the clock to Sergei’s face.
“I can’t go with you, Benjamin, at least not now. I’m sorry.”
“I felt you were going to say that.” Benjamin felt a small choke in his throat, but he swallowed it back.
“I didn’t want our parting to be filled with tears, my angel. I wanted them to be happy memories for the both of us.” Sergei pulled him close and held him, reluctant to let go.
Sergei had started to unbutton Benjamin’s jacket when a knock sounded on the door. Benjamin hastily fixed himself and rushed to open it. A porter from the lobby in a crisp black jacket stood waiting.
“I’m here to collect your trunks and bring them down to the motor, sir.”
Benjamin stepped aside to allow him to enter. Across the room, Sergei moved as if he was going to stop the porter from his work, but at the last second he sat back down and put his hands on his knees.
The clock on the mantle chimed seven times. Sergei stood up and joined Benjamin on the threshold of the room.
He made sure they were alone before he held Benjamin’s face between his ha
nds and kissed him, then held him in his arms until a small bell signaled the arrival of the elevator.
Chapter 16
The Petrograd Docks, Petrograd, Russia
March 1, 1917
BENJAMIN AND Sergei stood together at the foot of the gangplank and off to the side to allow the other passengers to board. Sergei surveyed the ship that would to take Benjamin away. Its white superstructure was rusty, and smoke belched from two red-and-black funnels, as men in the engine room built up steam to get underway.
“She looks seaworthy enough, and fast too,” Sergei observed.
“I don’t know about that, Sergei, but as long as she gets past the U-boats off the English coast, that’s all that matters.”
Sergei crossed himself and said, “God forbid, my angel. You’ll get home safely.”
Benjamin was silent, and leaned in close to his friend. “There is so much left to say and so little time left to us.”
“I know, but we’ve already said everything before, haven’t we?”
“Yes, but I always feel that departures should be poignant. What if I never see you again?”
“You’ll see me again, my angel, after the war and this revolution has calmed down, you and your family will return to Russia.”
“Before, you said that I would marry and have a family and never return.”
“Who knows what will happen, it’s all in the hands of the Almighty.” Sergei crossed himself. “I have your parents’ address in London, so maybe one day I may even get tired of all this and show up on the doorstep. Your mother would welcome me, but your father…”
“He’ll come around eventually. Don’t worry about him.” Benjamin’s voice was drowned out by three blasts from the ship’s whistle, and an officer rushed down the gangplank toward Benjamin.
“If you please, sir, we are ready to cast off.”