Princes and Peasants

by Catrin Collier

  Glyn returned to the table. Koshka, accompanied by Fritz, joined them ‘So this is your brother, Glyn. I’m very pleased to meet you, Mr Edwards.’

  Edward rose and shook Koshka’s hand. She wasn’t young but she was elegant, richly and, compared to her girls, conservatively dressed in grey silk that shimmered in the lamplight. Her bodice was low-cut and displayed her full, rounded breasts to advantage. Her blonde hair was beautifully dressed, her perfume sensual. He found himself moving closer to her just so he could savour it.

  ‘Have you everything you need, Mr Edwards?’ Her voice was melodious, seductive.

  Glyn answered for him. ‘Your girls are looking after us extremely well, Koshka, as they always do. As you see, my brother is overwhelmed. He didn’t expect to find such sophistication in Hughesovka.’

  ‘We are doing our best to bring civilisation to the steppe.’ She beckoned to a grey-eyed blonde, older than most of her “girls”. ‘This is my very good friend Xenia, Mr Edwards.’

  ‘Pleased to meet you,’ Edward extended his hand.

  Xenia took it. Close up, Edward realised she could have been any age between a careworn thirty and a well-preserved forty-five. She took Edward’s hand and kissed his cheek without relinquishing her hold on it.

  ‘You must tell me what you think of our Hughesovka, Mr Edwards.’

  Koshka signalled to a girl who was acting as hostess. ‘Two glasses of champagne for Xenia and Mr Edwards.’

  ‘Yes, madam.’

  The champagne appeared on Edward’s table. Xenia sat and patted the chair next to her.

  ‘You must tell me about your journey here, Mr Edwards.’

  ‘It was very boring.’ He remained standing as Koshka did. ‘Are you Russian?’

  ‘I am from Vienna and the longest journey I’ve ever made was from my home city to Moscow, and from there to here. I am fascinated by the world and would like to see more of it.’

  ‘You should visit Wales. It’s a beautiful country. A hilly country, not a bit like here, this place is as flat as a Welsh cake …’ Edward began talking and once he did he couldn’t stop.

  Xenia sat forward, apparently enthralled by his every word.

  Koshka drew Glyn back from Edward’s table. When Edward saw Glyn retreat he finally sat next to Xenia.

  ‘Your brother will be safe with Xenia, she is very kind and attentive,’ Koshka assured Glyn.

  ‘So I see.’ Glyn looked sideways at her. ‘You are a born engineer, madam. The social kind that can match people to perfection.’

  ‘Your brother appears lonely. He left his family behind in England?’

  ‘In Wales,’ Glyn corrected her. ‘No, he left no one behind. His wife died a few months ago.’

  ‘Children?’ Koshka enquired.

  ‘None.’

  Koshka nodded sagely. ‘I was right, Xenia is definitely the woman for him.’

  ‘Unlike me he’s very religious – and moral. But I have no doubt he will appreciate her conversation.’

  Koshka smiled enigmatically.

  Edward left his chair and tapped Glyn on the shoulder. ‘Xenia has a private room with a fire which is warmer than here. You know how cold I’ve been since I arrived. She’s invited me to have a drink with her.’

  Glyn struggled to keep his equanimity. ‘Be careful when you walk home.’

  ‘Fritz will send one of my porters with your brother to ensure that he arrives safely at your door, Glyn,’ Koshka interceded.

  ‘No matter what the time, just ring the bell and Pyotr will let you in,’ Glyn advised.

  Edward nodded before following Xenia out of the door and into the corridor that led to the girls’ private rooms.

  Koshka’s smile broadened. ‘As I said, Xenia is the woman for your brother. Would you like me to find someone for you, Glyn?’

  ‘Not with Praskovia waiting for me in a warm bed at home.’

  ‘She must be some woman, your housekeeper, for you to neglect my girls.’

  ‘She is.’

  ‘And your wife?’

  ‘You’ve heard she’s arrived?’

  ‘It’s the talk of Hughesovka. The Mrs Edwards whom Mr Edwards has paid to stay in the hotel so she doesn’t disturb his happy domestic life with his housekeeper, and has only visited once, and that was on the day of her arrival.’

  ‘I’m hoping my wife will leave Hughesovka soon.’

  ‘And if she doesn’t?’

  ‘I’ll try to persuade Mr Hughes to move the town,’ he joked. He kissed her cheek. ‘That’s for looking after my brother.’

  ‘Don’t expect to see him before morning, Glyn. Xenia can be very beguiling.’

  Chapter Seventeen

  Hospital, Hughesovka

  December 1871

  Nathan sat back in his chair and read the clock on his office wall. He had no excuse to linger. He suspected that everyone who worked in the hospital with him had noticed that he was staying later and later in the evening in preference to rushing home when he’d finished work for the day. Hardly the behaviour of a man who’d only been married a few months, and all the more noticeable when he saw Richard charge home for his evening meal, or Alexei ride up to his small wooden house shouting for Lev to take his horse before he even reached the gate.

  It wasn’t that his home was uncomfortable. Jewish girls were taught the art of homemaking and cooking from birth. Thrift was instilled in each and every one of them and they all knew how to stretch a kopek to do the work of a rouble. Not that he was short of money or kept Vasya on a tight budget. Given his well-paid position as the New Russia Company doctor, he could afford to give his wife a weekly allowance most Jewish wives in Hughesovka could only aspire to in their imaginations. He didn’t doubt that Vasya saved half, if not more of it. Their home was cosy but hardly extravagant. Vasya had furnished it with hand-me-downs from her family, solid pieces she’d covered with embroidered cloths to conceal the worst scars of age and use. She spent her days cleaning, washing, and preparing meals that were appetising, well-planned and presented – and eaten in silence.

  That silence was the problem. It was as though she was afraid of him. Without raising the subject he knew she was aware that he’d been coerced into marrying her. She’d seen him and Sonya together when Sonya had still worked in the hospital, and although he’d done his best to conceal his feelings he wondered if Vasya had guessed his secret. And worse – if Vasya knew that every minute he spent with her he pictured what his life would have been if he’d been allowed to follow his heart and make Sonya his bride.

  He left his chair and exchanged his doctor’s coat for the plain black coat he’d hung on the back of the door. Vasya had warned him that morning that the entire Goldberg family, including her uncle the rabbi, were coming to dinner. He hoped it would turn out to be a social occasion. The Goldbergs had only dined with him and Vasya once since their marriage. After the meal the rabbi had taken him outside – ostensibly to advise him on the area he’d dug over in the hope of turning it into a vegetable plot – only to berate him for his lack of religion and absence from a Goldberg family meal on the Sabbath.

  He’d explained that a doctor’s life could not be timetabled, even to meet religious demands, and that at the time of the meal he’d been busy fighting an epidemic of typhus that had broken out in the “hole houses”, but Rabbi Goldberg had refused to listen. To him the Sabbath was the Sabbath, its laws sacrosanct and to be adhered to no matter what the emergency – medical or otherwise. On that occasion he’d managed to bite his tongue, but he was doubtful he’d be capable of remaining silent a second time.

  He left his office and, mindful of the patients’ files and drugs inside, locked the door. Since the night the fire had decimated the shtetl, the number of porters on duty had been increased to three at night and two in the day. One of them was sitting in the cubicle off the entrance hall that the porters had claimed as their territory. The door was open, his rifle propped in the crook of his elbow.

  ‘Good evening
, Doctor.’

  ‘Good evening, Egor. Everything quiet?’

  ‘As the grave. I’ve just spoken to Kolya and Bogdan. There are no shadows flitting around the town tonight – yet.’

  ‘It’s reassuring to know that you are all here to protect the nurses.’ Nathan heard a noise in the kitchen. He glanced in and saw the trainee nurse, Naomi, washing dishes.

  ‘I thought your shift finished half an hour ago, Nurse Rinskaya.’

  ‘It did, Dr Kharber, but we’ve eaten the cakes Yelena sent over.’

  ‘So you thought you’d wash and return the dish in the hope she’d send over more tomorrow.’

  ‘You know your nurses so well, Dr Kharber.’

  ‘Good evening, Nurse Rinskaya.’

  ‘Good evening, sir.’

  Nathan left the kitchen and pushed open the door to the men’s ward. Anna was sitting at the Nightingale desk in the centre. The only light emanated from the oil lamp she’d placed close to the midwifery text-book she was studying. He smiled when he looked over her shoulder.

  ‘Studying in the hope of delivering Sarah and Praskovia’s babies?’

  She turned to him, her blue eyes shining. ‘I’d like to help.’

  ‘I’ll have a word with both of them and try to arrange their babies’ arrival when you’re on duty.’

  He rarely joked and she returned his smile in the hope of encouraging him. ‘Thank you, Dr Kharber. Have a good evening.’

  ‘You too, a quiet one so you can study.’ He left her and went into the women’s ward. Miriam was also sitting at the desk in the middle of the ward but she was reading a dog-eared fashion magazine that he suspected had been passed around the women of the shtetl at least twice. He wasn’t surprised by the discrepancy in the nurses’ reading material. Anna was the youngest nurse in the hospital, but she was also the most dedicated. He’d seen her filching copies of The Lancet that his predecessor had ordered to be sent from London as soon as he’d finished reading them. He knew he was fortunate to have her working alongside him as a nurse, but he also felt that given the right opportunity she’d make an even better doctor.

  He waved to Miriam who’d seen him standing at the door then, finally having run out of excuses to linger, he left the building and walked around to his house behind the hospital.

  Madam Koshka’s salon

  December 1871

  ‘It’s good to see you, my prince.’ Adele closed the door of her room behind him.

  ‘As always, good to see you, Adele.’ Roman shrugged off his jacket and dropped it on a chair.

  ‘Bed?’ She raised her eyebrows.

  ‘Chaise longue. It’s not as comfortable, so there’s less risk of me falling asleep. I have an early meeting in the morning.’ He flicked the button at the back of her dress and watched her dress slide to the floor. ‘I love doing that, it’s just like pulling the dust drapes from a marble statue.’

  ‘You remove dust drapes from statues?’

  ‘As a child, it was a task the housekeepers in my father’s various homes reserved for me whenever we arrived, because I liked doing it so much, but, although your skin is as pale as white marble, you look infinitely more real – and enticing.’

  ‘Thank you, sir,’ she gave a mock curtsey. ‘Stockings and garters on or off?’

  ‘Off, because you’re wearing the pearl-studded ones again and they dig into my thighs.’ He stripped off his waistcoat and shirt and unbuttoned his trousers.

  She lay on the chaise. He took her hand and pulled her up. ‘That’s where I intend to be.’

  ‘You expect me to do all the work?’

  ‘Absolutely. I feel lazy.’ He finished undressing, lay down, grabbed her hand, and pulled her towards him. She eased herself on to him and massaged his chest.

  ‘I’ve heard rumours you’re engaged.’

  ‘From where?’

  ‘Here. One of the girls overheard Mr Hughes and Mr Edwards talking about it. You’re going to marry Catherine Ignatova’s niece?’

  ‘I hope to,’ he confirmed.

  ‘Congratulations.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘You’ll still visit us here from time to time?’

  ‘Given your talent for satisfying my needs, and the salon’s status as a bastion of civilization in this wilderness, I intend to.’ He caressed her breasts and eased her body closer to his. She gasped as she stared deep into his eyes.

  ‘Not to mention your theatrical skills.’

  ‘Why, you…’

  ‘Beast?’ He laughed before pulling her down onto him again.

  When they had finished, Roman kissed Adele’s shoulder, then lifted her from him and deposited her behind him on the chaise. He went to the washstand, washed, and picked up his clothes.

  ‘You’re not going already?’ she complained, turning on to her stomach, watching as he pulled on his underclothes and trousers.

  ‘I have to. I told you I have an early meeting.’ He felt in his pocket and set his customary ‘present’ on the dresser.

  ‘But you will come again – and soon.’

  ‘In every sense of the word, my sweet Adele.’ He blew her a kiss before opening the door and leaving.

  Adele lay, luxuriating in idleness for five minutes, before going to the washstand. She was buttoning on her dress when she was disturbed by a knock at her door.

  She called out, ‘Enter,’ hoping Roman had returned. Instead Fritz opened it.

  ‘I saw your last gentleman leave. Another is asking for you.’

  ‘Have I seen him before?’

  ‘Not to my knowledge.’ He stepped inside the room and whispered, ‘He’s just left Felina. Complained she was … unsatisfactory.’

  Adele saw the door move and said loudly, ‘Show him in please, Fritz.’

  Taras Komansky walked in

  ‘Sir.’ She curtsied.

  He laid his cane on the table and unbuttoned his jacket.

  Fritz closed the door, but he didn’t walk back down the corridor. In the decade he’d worked for Madam Koshka he’d developed a sixth sense when it came to trouble. Right now he could sense it hovering, just waiting to manifest itself behind the door.

  Hughesovka Main Street

  December 1871

  ‘It’s bloody cold out here,’ Mervyn grumbled as he and Ianto huddled behind Levsky’s coach. The drivers who’d conveyed their masters to Koshka’s in a stream of carriages had congregated around a brazier at the entrance to Koshka’s coach house. They’d formed a circle, effectively consigning the footmen who’d acted as pillions to the open air, from which vantage they could watch the drivers drink vodka and eat the potatoes they’d baked in the fire.

  ‘Is that who I think it is?’ Mervyn squinted down the street as a young girl huddled in a long cape and a nurses’ hat left a large brick-built house. A thickset man stood in the doorway behind her. She turned and shouted, her voice carrying in the still, snow-laden air.

  ‘There’s no need to wait to see me across the road, Pyotr. It’s cold, go inside.’

  ‘Not until you walk into the hospital, Miss Anna.’

  Ianto turned to Mervyn and nodded. They left the back of the carriage and walked up the street. They saw Anna Parry go inside the hospital. Watched the front door close on the house she’d left.

  ‘What now?’ Mervyn asked.

  ‘She left this house. It’s getting late. I’m guessing she’ll return soon. And when she does we’ll pick up where we left off in Merthyr and make the bitch pay for what her neighbours did to me, and for running to the police and telling tales on us.’

  ‘It was the women in the court who sent for the police,’ Mervyn reminded his brother.

  ‘Our solicitor said we wouldn’t have spent an hour in a cell or gone to court if Anna Parry hadn’t pressed charges.’

  ‘You sure she’s going to come back?’

  ‘No young girl stays out all night.’

  ‘She was dressed like a nurse.’

  ‘Whatever she was dre
ssed like, she’s too young to be a nurse.’ Ianto glanced up and down the street to check no one was looking their way before opening the gate. He dived out of sight of the street, behind the front fence. ‘Come round to this side, we can’t be seen and it’s more sheltered here.’

  ‘But they’ll spot us from the house,’ Mervyn whined.

  ‘No they won’t, the curtains are drawn.’ Ianto crouched down so he couldn’t be seen from the road. He brushed away the snowflakes that were falling thicker than they had done earlier in the day and handed Mervyn a flask of vodka.

  ‘Where did you get this?’

  ‘Gleb’s pocket. Payment for the kopeks you handed over.’

  ‘And now?’

  ‘We watch and wait for the bitch.’

  ‘And if we’re needed for the carriage?’

  ‘They’ll have to find us.’ Ianto took the flask from Mervyn and drank deeply.

  ‘We’ll freeze to death.’

  ‘No we won’t.’ Ianto peeked over the fence and saw a young girl in a nurse’s cape and hat leave the building opposite. ‘Our entertainment for the evening is on its way.’

  Nathan Kharber’s house

  December 1871

  Nathan entered his dining room to find the Goldbergs sitting around his dining table. Rabbi Goldberg had taken his place as master of the house at the head, with Vasya on his right. On the rabbi’s left sat Vasya’s father, Levi, who’d asked Nathan for Ruth’s hand in marriage for his son Abraham before Nathan had finally conceded to Ruth’s pleas and given her his permission to marry Alexei. Nathan’s brother-in-law Ruben, Ruben’s wife Rebekah, and Vasya’s aunt Raisa, were sitting below them, leaving Nathan the empty chair at the foot of the table.

  Resenting the Goldbergs’ intrusion into his life at the end of a long day, Nathan moved away from the door. Vasya rose from her chair the moment she saw him, ‘Excuse me, Rabbi Goldberg, Father, I’ll serve the soup.’