By nightfall I was struggling to breathe.
‘We’re losing him,’ I heard the doctor mutter as, once again, he failed to force liquid into my mouth.
‘Let me try.’ Galena’s voice softened. She sat on the bed and, taking my hands, rubbed them between her own.
The texture of her skin was rough. Whereas the doctor’s hands were smooth and his nails clean and neat, Galena’s were coarsened with manual work. They felt like the hands of my mama. I began to tremble.
Galena peered into my face. ‘You are frightened,’ she declared in sudden realization. ‘Dr K! There are too many shadows in this room. More lamps!’ she ordered him. ‘Let us make this place as bright as day.’
And while the doctor did as she bade him, Galena crooned over me, stroking my forehead and singing snatches of lullabies. When the room was to her satisfaction she propped me up and, holding out the medicine spoon, recited the same nursery rhyme my mama had chanted when coaxing me to eat as a child.
‘Part your lips – prepare to chew
Some specials treats are here for you!
All the way from far Cathay
A little man has come today
To bring you soup and bread and bun
For you to eat – beloved son.’
Automatically I opened my mouth. With a deft movement Galena emptied in the liquid and it slipped down my throat. I sank back on the pillows and closed my eyes.
For twelve days and nights I drifted in and out of delirious sleep. But I never awoke except that one or other of them was there, sitting in the chair beside my bed. I was reassured by the sound of their voices and their footsteps coming and going.
When I was able to speak I told Dr Konstantin where I lived so that he might go there and gather my mother’s things. But the Secret Police had rampaged through the workers’ accommodation, including the single-room block of apartments where Mama and I lived. They broke up the furniture and threw our possessions into the street, where scavengers made off with everything. Father Galen, the priest who had organized the march, had disappeared. It was claimed that he was really a government spy who’d organized the protest so that the Okhrana could identify troublemakers and revolutionaries.
We never did find my mother. The army shovelled the bodies up and took them away in trucks. This was to conceal from the world how many had been killed. They buried these people outside the city in a pit filled with lime so that their very bones would dissolve.
And so I became part of the household of Dr Konstantin. Galena made me new clothes from a jacket and a pair of trousers which had belonged to the doctor.
‘You might have used an old outfit,’ he grumbled at her, ‘and not cut up my best suit.’
‘You never wore it,’ she replied, ‘and, anyway, it looks better on the boy than it ever did on you.’
I ate the tastiest food and received the best of what could be spared from the household budget. My mother had taught me my letters and counting numbers, but Dr Konstantin sent me to higher-level school, and I often accompanied him when he was treating patients. He expanded my mind and I excelled enough to gain a place, with his sponsorship, in the medical faculty of the city’s university.
He spoke to me about how his work as a doctor had made him aware of the suffering of ordinary Russians. Dr K felt that Russia might be more democratically ruled by the Duma Council, but at the moment the Tsar gave them little power and appointed his own Ministers of State. The leaders of the Duma, in particular the socialist lawyer Alexander Kerensky, often sought Dr K’s advice on welfare provision and the organization of health services.
As I grew older I began to lose hope that the Duma would ever achieve even basic civil rights for us. The councillors seemed badly organized, divided and ineffective. Besides which, Bolshevik ideas of complete democracy – overthrowing the ruling elite and all adults voting for a people’s government – were infiltrating the university and converting students to the Bolsheviks’ cause.
In recent years the household had to cope with increasing food shortages and other effects of the bungling conduct of the war against Germany. We never actually fell out, but the discussions were lively, for the three of us were on differing sides.
Galena held stubbornly to the belief that the Tsar was doing his best. She had faith in the Romanov leadership and believed that Russia could not be governed without a monarchy. Nothing would sway her from this opinion.
‘If it ever happens that the Imperial Family are deposed, then people will turn on each other like rabid dogs,’ she stated firmly.
‘The French did it,’ I protested.
‘Exactly!’ Galena said triumphantly. ‘And replaced their royalty with a Reign of Terror.’
I was about to point out that the French now had democratic rights, when Dr K touched my arm. ‘Galena prefers to live in the past. She refuses to move into the twentieth century with the rest of us.’
‘Anyhow, the Tsar could not have ordered the army to fire upon the citizens.’ Galena was unyielding. ‘When the 1905 slaughter happened he was in his country house.’
‘There is some doubt as to whether he knew what was happening, but perhaps our Tsar should not have remained inside a country house while he had a country to run,’ the doctor observed mildly.
Now, eleven years after that march, the Tsar was still hiding away. The Imperial Family was in permanent residence at the Alexander Palace, fifteen miles south of the city, on their estate of Tsarskoe Selo. When war broke out Tsar Nicholas had the best excuse for avoiding the seat of government in Petrograd – he took over as Supreme Commander of our armed forces, and spent his time near the Front, leaving his wife to make foolish decisions in his absence. Meanwhile a wing of the Winter Palace was turned into a military hospital.
During those years, deep inside me I nursed a bitter hatred. He may not have given the actual order, but the Tsar had refused to condemn the actions of his army commanders who had murdered my mother. He and his Tsarina, Alexandra, gave a sum of money to help those who’d been hurt. But this did not wash away their guilt or erase the blood that stained the hands of the man I’d revered as our ‘Little Father’.
Their imperial line was tainted. For over three hundred years they’d squandered the blood of countless slaves, serfs, peasants and soldiers in wars fought for greed and false glory. They were poisonous to Russia. When I was a child my thoughts on this were simple and straightforward – and as I reached adulthood I did not change my opinion. I believed that the Russian people would only be free when the Romanov family was gone. And so the logical solution was to get rid of the Romanovs – every last one of them.
Chapter 10
The day after her arrival I thought our guest, Nina, would lie abed, expecting someone to bring her a glass of hot tea and a basin of warm water to wash her face.
But she appeared early in the kitchen and said, ‘When our estate workers were sick Papa and I would tend to them until a doctor arrived. So I thought I might be able to help with your clinic appointments this morning.’
I sniggered. I couldn’t stop myself. What could she do? She looked as though she might pass out at the sight of blood. ‘If you want to be useful you could make our breakfast,’ I said.
She blushed, for I spoke to her as if she were a servant, and I enjoyed her discomfort.
At this point Dr K came in, saying, ‘It would be helpful if you did that, Nina, please – if you don’t mind.’
‘I don’t mind,’ she replied. ‘It will give Galena a longer rest before she starts her duties.’
At that I did laugh out loud, for Galena had gone out an hour before we rose to see if she could get some bread.
‘The oatmeal has been soaking in that jug,’ said Dr Konstantin.
Nina picked up the jug and peered into it.
‘Galena usually puts it in a pot,’ he prompted her.
The pots hung above the stove. She took down the nearest. It was the wrong size and weight and it was clear that she di
dn’t know what to do.
I tilted my head to watch her in amusement.
Dr K handed me the keys of the shed we used as a consulting room. ‘Stefan, please go and open up.’ As I left I heard him instruct Nina in how to add the water and salt, then he gave her a wooden ladle.
Imagine having to be told how to stir a porridge pot! And she didn’t do it well, for when we came to breakfast at the kitchen table it was half cooked and lumpy.
Galena, who had returned home with the bread, hissed at me, ‘If you say one word to Nina about this breakfast, either now or any time hereafter, I will box your ears.’
Box my ears! Box my ears? Galena had never laid a hand on me in her life, through all the years since I’d arrived unexpectedly, a shivering orphan on the doorstep. Despite my tricks and naughtiness, the broken dishes and stolen sweetmeats, the cracked windows, the torn trousers and lost shoes, not once had she disciplined me with any force.
Worse was to follow. When we’d finished breakfast Galena spoke out in the sweetest tones. ‘Nina,’ she said, ‘Stefan has no lecture until noon today, so I’m sure he’d be happy to show you the famous places of Petrograd this morning.’
I opened my mouth to make an excuse or invent an appointment, but then Dr K joined in, saying, ‘I would expect nothing less. Stefan has been well brought up and knows how to behave to a guest of this house.’
So I was stuck with her for a whole two hours and had to make the best of it. ‘I suppose you want to visit the cathedral and the Winter Palace and the famous bridges?’ I asked as we left the house.
‘Yes,’ she replied, ‘but firstly I would like you to show me the way to the bread shop where Galena queues in the morning.’
We walked in silence until we reached the bakery. I could barely control my disgust at her wish to view the sad sights of the city. ‘You won’t have an opportunity to ogle at the starving masses,’ I said. ‘By this time it will be shut.’
She surveyed the empty street. ‘Why do the shops close so early?’
‘Because within a few hours they run out of food and they have nothing more to sell.’
She gave me a peculiar look and fell silent.
From there we went to the cathedral. I stood at the back, keeping a wary eye out for aggressive beggars while she lit her candles and prayed.
‘Why do you follow that custom?’ I asked. Galena had warned me to be on my best behaviour but I felt it was a reasonable question to ask.
‘It calms my soul,’ she replied.
‘What makes you think you have a soul?’ I demanded.
‘It’s complex to explain and may not be worth the effort to do so to someone who has no real interest in the answer, or is perhaps only enquiring in order to mock my beliefs.’ With that tart reply she marched ahead and I had to chase after her to catch up.
In a thoroughly bad mood, I took her to the Winter Palace.
‘Have you ever been inside?’
‘Oh, yes,’ I said grimly, ‘many times.’
‘Is it very beautiful?’
I looked at her, so soft and fragile with her large blue eyes and blonde hair, and I wanted to fracture that glass bubble in which she lived.
‘Would you like to see the wondrous Grand Halls, where the royalty of Europe processed, and the sumptuous Nicholas Hall, where two thousand people could sit for dinner?’
‘Yes please,’ she breathed, turning to walk towards the main entrance.
‘This way,’ I told her, and went instead along the riverside until we came to a small door set in a wall. She glanced at me in surprise when the sentry saluted as I approached.
We went by the servants’ stair to the first floor.
The three main reception halls had been adapted to function as a military hospital. The wounded soldiers lay in beds crammed so closely that there was hardly space for the medical staff to walk between. The greater part of these beds contained patients who were the most grievous cases. Wretchedly ill and horrifically mutilated, the noise of their yowling moans rose to the splendid chandeliers and vaulted ceilings.
I offered her a handkerchief, for the smell of the rotting leg stumps and suppurating wounds was overpowering on this hot day. She gave a tiny shake of her head in rejection. I thought she would avert her eyes and hurry through, but she went on slowly, gazing attentively at the men and the nurses and the doctors and the walls and the roof and the windows and all about her.
We walked the length of the enormous Nicholas Hall, and by the time we reached the end of the room, the rosy bloom had vanished from her cheeks.
Chapter 11
That night I missed dinner.
I knew that Galena would leave something on the stove for me. In part I was late home because I wanted to check up on a few of my patients in the Winter Palace. But I also thought Nina would have given an account of where I’d taken her, including the military hospital. And while I didn’t care a fig for Nina’s opinion, I did mind that Galena would think me discourteous.
When I returned the women had gone to bed, but Dr K was in his study writing up medical notes. I saw the light on and went in and sat with my dinner plate and we discussed cases. Then he said casually, ‘How went your outing with Nina this morning?’
‘Why?’ I asked suspiciously. ‘What did she tell you?’
‘Nothing much. That you showed her some interesting places and it was very pleasant.’
‘That’s all?’ I asked.
‘That’s all,’ he replied, then looked hard at me. ‘Why did you want to know what she told us?’
‘No reason.’ I shrugged.
‘You’ve always been a poor liar, Stefan. She didn’t betray you, but I’m curious to know – where did you take her that you shouldn’t have?’
‘She asked to see the Winter Palace.’ I spoke in a neutral voice. ‘And so I showed her the Winter Palace.’
‘Did that include a tour of its interior?’
I nodded.
Dr K studied my face. I shifted uncomfortably.
‘You knew she would expect to see the glory of the grand apartments and you took her through the hospital wards.’
He made this statement in a flat tone, and I recalled from my youth that, on occasions when I’d misbehaved badly, he’d call me to his study and state my offence. Then he would wait to hear what I had to say in mitigation. Usually I was silent – as I was now. His method had the effect of shaming me, and was a better aid to improving my future behaviour than being belted or denied a treat.
‘Perhaps you believed it to be right that Nina should know the truth of the situation in the city and the times in which we live?’
I accepted his lifeline and nodded my head. But we both knew that I’d been unkind. I mumbled, ‘Good night, sir,’ and went to bed.
I should have guessed what she was up to when she’d asked me the location of the bread shop. I came down the next morning to be confronted by Galena. ‘Nina has gone out onto the streets by herself! See!’ She waved a piece of paper in my face. ‘She has written here that she rose early and went to queue for bread. Is this your fault, Stefan Petrovich? Is it? Did you make some remark that caused her to do this?’
‘No!’ I replied honestly. ‘I did not. And if she’d asked me I would have told her that the rule of the house is that you claim that task as your own.’
‘Nina is a green country girl,’ Galena fretted. ‘She doesn’t know Vera or Duscha, or the rest of us who queue as a group. The rougher women might jostle her out. If she does manage to beg a loaf from that ill-humoured shopkeeper she’ll be set upon by rogues on the way home. Nina won’t know that she must hide the bread about her person and carry a stick to show that she’s prepared to fend off hooligans.’ She collapsed into a chair. ‘We have a guest for one day. One day! And we lose her!’
‘Yet here she is!’ Dr K, who’d been keeping lookout at the kitchen window, strode through the scullery and flung the back door wide open.
Nina stumbled into the house with a hea
p of bread wrapped up in her green and purple shawl. ‘I had not thought to bring a bag,’ she said. ‘I had to use this instead.’ She emptied several loaves onto the table and shook out the crumbs.
‘Nina, in future you must always forget to bring a bag when you shop.’ Dr K picked up a warm loaf and held it to his cheek. The air filled with the smell of freshly baked bread. ‘You uncovered your head, and so dazzled the baker with your golden curls that he seems to have given you extra rations.’
‘No, no,’ she protested. ‘I explained that I was new in the city and I didn’t yet have an allowance. I told him that I didn’t want to impose upon the family I was staying with and asked what I should do; and he said he understood perfectly.’ She smiled brightly. ‘He asked if I was coming back tomorrow. He is a lovely man.’
‘That same person is the grumpiest baker in the entire city,’ said Galena. ‘Your grace must have melted his heart, but you mustn’t trouble yourself like that again.’
‘I’m happy to fetch the morning bread,’ Nina said. ‘The women are friendly and keep each other up to date with city news. And it means that Galena can make breakfast so that Dr Konstantin and Stefan don’t have to endure my lumpy porridge – which they bravely ate yesterday … even though it was truly terrible.’
We sat down at the kitchen table to eat, with them laughing and chatting and me glowering into my bowl of oatmeal.
Chapter 12
I gobbled my breakfast and made to leave the house.
‘One moment, Stefan!’ Dr K waved a letter under my nose. ‘Please give this to your Head of Studies. I’ve written to ask him if Nina may attend lectures with you today.’ There was a smile on his face but a glint of steel in his eyes. ‘I’ve altered her family names so that there will be less fuss with bureaucracy in registering for rations. From now on Nina will assume a position as my niece and be known as Nina Andreyovna Loskov, the daughter of my dead brother Andrey. Please bear that in mind when introducing her to anyone.’
The Rasputin Dagger Page 5