God's Children

by Mabli Roberts

  I hurried back down the stairs and out of the building, all the while turning over in my mind the most advantageous manner in which to present Monsieur’s support for my work to the world. While it might be slight, any connection with such a fêted man of medicine as he could only serve to further my cause. As ever, it was the lepers who compelled me to take action, and to make that action the most effective action I could find.

  Nell had waited for me outside those high gates and was surprised to see me return so soon. I glanced at my pocket watch and saw that it was nearing five o’clock.

  ‘We must hurry,’ I told her, taking her arm and steering her to the kerb so that we might hail a cab.

  ‘Well, did you see him? You were so quick. Were you able to talk to him at all?’

  ‘Of course, but he is indeed not in the best of health. Come now, here is a cab.’

  ‘Are we going to find a river boat? Why must we hurry so?’

  ‘It is vital that our meeting is reported in the press swiftly and as broadly as possible,’ I explained, helping Nell into the cab and instructing the driver to take us directly to the offices of the correspondent of TheTimes. ‘Once we have been there,’ I continued to Nell, ‘if we move with all speed, we might catch the office of the New York Herald before it closes its doors. If a telegram is sent the article should make the morning papers on both continents.’

  ‘But, Kate, we were to dine together on the Seine. You promised.’

  ‘All in good time,’ I assured her, peering out of the cab window to make certain the driver did not take us past the building, for such cabbies are well known for their sharp practices. ‘The news will be well received, I am certain of it. This is a small but significant step in our campaign, Nell. I am satisfied it will serve us well.’

  ‘And how long will it take?’ she asked. ‘Must we go to both offices at once? Surely this is not urgent news and could as easily wait until tomorrow.’

  ‘It cannot, Nell. We must make the most of it. We must fly our flag from the tallest mast, do you not see that? Ah, I believe we are close. Driver! I say, driver, set us down, if you please!’ I was forced to shout and to rap upon the ceiling of the cab to obtain his attention.

  I am pleased to say we were in time at both offices, and the meeting was reported in London and New York the next morning. My only regret is that Nell did not share my happiness. She complained at the length of time delivering the report to the papers took, and when it was clear we would not, after all, be able to take our wished for cruise that night she flatly refused to be consoled, and her mood darkened markedly.

  You aren’t going to write in your book, are you?

  No. Not tonight. I am too weary. Sometimes I like to hold it, to think about what I am going to put in it next.

  Why don’t you open it? Why don’t you look inside?

  My eyes are too tired to read today.

  That book won’t tire them any more. Look inside, Kate. Look inside.

  The book feels heavy suddenly. Its worn leather cover is cracked and has lost some of its colour at the edges. I do as she says, and I open the book. Its spine creaks a little as I flatten it open, pressing as best I can with my one good hand. And now I see that the pages are completely empty.

  All of them empty.

  It was not an arduous train journey, the one between Cologne and Paris, but our itinerary had been hectic, and our stay in Berlin previously also busy. As the evening wore on into night, Nell was lulled into sleep on her seat opposite me. Apart from we two the carriage was empty save for one gentleman on his way back to London. To pass the time we struck up a quiet conversation, and at one point I recall reading to him from a paper I had written, an excerpt from a report regarding an aspect of life in Russia which seemed to arouse his curiosity. When I explained that it was my intention to travel to St Petersburg and thence to Siberia in search of the needy lepers he became quite animated.

  ‘Upon my word, madam,’ he laughed, ‘it strikes me there’s money to be made from these lepers of yours. There’s a sympathy for ’em, and that’s a fact. Folks will give for such suffering.’

  ‘Indeed, it would be a hard-hearted fellow who would not soften when details of the lives of these wretches are set before him.’

  ‘And if you were the one to do it, Ma’am, I’d wager none could turn from you. Bless you, your voice when you were reading just now was like music. You’ve a commanding presence and a way with you.’

  ‘It is my aim to give people the fullest account of the disease and its attendant horrors, else how can they know? And once they do know, I do not believe that their Christian souls will allow them to turn away.’

  ‘There’s an interest in this leper business, people’s minds are on it, and the right woman could fetch ’em. I believe you are that very woman.’

  ‘I must hope so. For my journey to find the sufferers will be long and dangerous, and all will be for nothing if I am not afterwards persuasive.’

  ‘I’ve connections in America, and there’s a country you could take your story to and money to be made. You come to me in London and I’ll set you up. And do not trouble yourself to freeze, nor risk your neck unnecessarily, madam. Just go far enough to say you’ve been. Spot one or two of the misfortunates, then come home and write your stories and we’ll see them published and sold before you know it!’ He laughed loudly again.

  Nell slept on, but my mind was too busy to find rest. This curious man with his business mind lacked the proper sympathy my cause should elicit, and I could not see him as a person to contract myself to. And yet I was cheered, in the most pragmatic of ways, for if such a man could see financial gain to be had from allying himself with a supporter of lepers, then others would too. Perhaps there was a truth, too, in what he said regarding the fashion, if such it could be called, for taking an interest in those struck down by the disease. Whatever the motives for this interest, it was my job to use them to the good. It did not, in the end, matter what compelled people to affiliate themselves to my cause, so long as they gave money in the doing of it.

  On returning to our hotel room Nell became quite impossible. Much as I tried to attribute her bad temper to the lateness of the hour, and to our not having eaten, I was finding it more and more difficult to cope with her petulance.

  ‘Really, Nell, need you make quite such a fuss?’ I asked as I sat upon the end of the bed, glad of the chance to rest my feet which were aching from so much dashing about. In the distance I could hear the bells of the cathedral ringing and imagined people on their way to a late mass, incense filling the air, the priest’s voice intoning God’s words through the echoey space.

  ‘Am I always to put myself in second place?’ she asked, not looking at me, but choosing instead to stride up and down.

  ‘Second to me? Surely you cannot think that.’

  ‘Second to your blessed cause!’

  ‘Forgive me, Nell, I believed we were both committed to this work. I thought you held it as dear and as precious as I do.’

  ‘Well, it just might be that I do not, after all.’ She fair spat the words at me now, standing over me, the anger welling up from somewhere she had kept it deep and hidden. ‘I am sorry if that disappoints you, Kate,’ she went on, ‘to discover that I am not, in the end, as perfect as you!’

  ‘Nell…’

  ‘How could I possibly ever match the wonderful, courageous, pious Kate Marsden, with her Russian Red Cross Award, and all her vast experience of nursing, and her worthy cause? Well I tell you, I cannot, and nor do I wish to. I am a woman, flawed and sinful, and full of pride and wishes of my own that do not in any way relate to the poor or the needy. So there it is! Now you know the truth of your less-than-perfect-friend.’

  I stood up, wanting to reach out to her, to hold her, to reassure her that I loved her exactly as she was. ‘We are none of us perfect, my dear Nell. I do not claim to be, and I do not expect perfection of you.’

  ‘Then you must be happy! For yet again you are
correct. I am just a silly woman who wanted to dine on board a river boat and have a cheerful time.’

  ‘And so we shall, for you must know how much your happiness matters to me. Now, why not take off your boots, you are weary. I promise you will have my full and loving attention the second I have written up my own account of my meeting with Monsieur Pasteur. It will take no more than an hour and then…’

  But I did not finish my sentence, for Nell put an end to my speaking. She raised her hand, drew it full back, and struck my face with such force that I was put off my feet and fell back into the chair. I sat there, shock silencing my voice, my cheek afire from the stinging blow, my heart wounded yet more deeply.

  Nell had fallen into petulant silence by the time we arrived back at our hotel room. I promised her we would take our river cruise the following day instead, but even so I felt sorry to have so ruined her earlier happy mood.

  I watched her remove her bonnet for the second time that evening. Had she been angry with me I should have better stood it. Her disappointment was harder to bear.

  ‘I am sorry, Nell,’ I said for the umpteenth time. ‘I simply had to ensure that the reports of my meeting with Monsieur Pasteur were dispatched this night. For them to make the morning papers in both London and New York, well, I think you’ll agree such publicity for my proposed mission will be invaluable.’

  ‘I’m sure it will,’ she said, sitting heavily on the little brocade chair by the window. Behind her the shutters were still open, so that there was merely the blackness of the night sky beyond the glass, with here and there a light burning in a tall building.

  All at once an idea came to me, and the more I considered it, the more certain I became that it was the thing to do. I hurried to my valise, for I had not even completed my unpacking before we had set off on our quest for an interview with the great scientist. Beneath my gowns, wrapped in a piece of beige chamois leather and tied with a blue ribbon, I found what I was looking for. I went to kneel before Nell.

  ‘I have something for you,’ I told her gently. ‘Nothing extravagant, rest assured. Just a little token of my affection.’

  ‘Oh? Why would you choose this moment to give me a gift?’

  ‘I confess I was saving it for… another time,’ I said vaguely, not wanting to talk of the moment when I would depart for Russia without her. ‘But you have been so supportive, you endure all manner of disappointments while you are with me, and I do so hate to see you sad. Here.’

  I handed her the small parcel. She took it onto her lap and undid the bow. When she folded back the leather to reveal its contents she gave a little gasp.

  ‘Oh, Kate! How charming. How pretty the stones are!’ She turned the brooch over, stroking the gold with her fingers, holding it up to the lamplight so that the precious stones gleamed and sparkled.

  ‘You like it?’

  ‘I think it is delightful!’ she said, smiling at last.

  ‘Ancient civilisations considered the snake a symbol of faithfulness, of continuity, of the continuous circle of life. Think of it as standing for our friendship, that has no end. Let me,’ I said, taking it from her and pinning it onto her gown just above her heart. ‘There. It suits you very well, does it not?’

  ‘Dear Kate,’ she said, smiling properly now and taking my hand in hers. ‘I shall think of you every time I wear it, and it will make me feel that you are close. I am foolish to be so glum when I have you to care for me. Who could want for more?’

  After a long day’s ride we came to another collection of lepers, nine in all. Their condition was among the worst I had seen. One of the men, two women and two children were naked, possessing no clothes at all. It was shocking to imagine what their existence would be like in the winter months. They told me that when the frost and the biting winds came they would cover themselves in what rags they could find and add leaves for a vestige of warmth. In the summer months their sores were unprotected from flies, which so tormented their festering wounds that some of the sufferers could do nothing but writhe in agony. This yourt was so far from any settlement and so deep in the suffocating woods that I did not wonder the lepers there remained uncounted and untended, for who could ever find them? There were signs that bears inhabited the forest around them, and such was the misery of those cast out to live their blighted lives among them that I wondered many did not throw themselves in the path of the fearsome creatures to find an end to their suffering.

  This thought troubled my mind for hours after we had left. As we rode onwards I could not think of anything else, not even the hope of a better place for those afflicted with the merciless disease. All that occupied my thoughts were the horrifying extent of their suffering, and the notion that to be mauled to death by a bear could come to be seen as welcome beside such an existence. We journeyed on slowly though the ever dense taiga, and as we did so my mood became so heavy, my heart so troubled, and my mind so tortured with these imaginings that my body succumbed to fatigue, and I swooned from my horse.

  I recall voices, urgent, calling my name. Strange languages being both shouted and whispered as I was lifted from the ground and carried to a small clearing in the trees. My vision was muddled and unclear, so that I had the sensation for a time that I was underwater, though I knew this not to be the case. I felt almost nothing as I was lifted again and laid upon reindeer skins, as if my bruised and battered limbs were no longer in my own control, my mind being too distressed to manage them.

  We made camp. I began to revive and was given sweet black tea. One of the horsemen, with neither English nor French at his disposal, came to me, proffering a small pot of ointment. He indicated that I was to use it to ward off the terrible biting flies. Gratefully, I took it from him and slowly applied it to my skin and my clothing, noticing at once how the numbers of tormenting insects around me dwindled. A few paces off, my little horse was under a similar assault, ineffectually stamping his feet and swishing his tail, his flanks twitching under the ceaseless biting. With difficulty, I rose to my feet. My guides tried to assist me but I signalled to them so that they understood I was sufficiently recovered to walk unaided. I made my way to the miserable pony and dabbed a tiny amount of the precious unguent around his weeping eyes.

  ‘There, my trusty friend,’ I said to him softly. ‘That is so much better, is it not?’

  ‘Will the Tsarina be arriving later?’ I asked the attaché, a minor Russian nobleman, who had been sent to escort me to the ball. I had only just finished preparing for the occasion, and the seamstress had been busy stitching me into my gown. It had been such a kindness on the part of the Empress, to make her own dressmaker available to me. When I had explained to her that I had nothing suitable to wear for such a grand event, and that I would appreciate a recommendation from her, she had hesitated only a moment before offering me her own woman. I had spent a great deal of time and care choosing the right shade of golden silk, and discussing with the seamstress how much of the bodice should be covered with embroidery. I was pleased with the results, though felt the lack of jewels to wear, having only two strings of pearls to put at my throat, and some earrings which had once belonged to Jessy.

  I was informed that the Empress Maria Feodorovna had been unavoidably detained on matters of state business, but that she would, of course, make all haste to join me at the ball as soon as she was free of her duties.

  We were not, in fact, to use the grand ballroom in which I had spent happy hours all those months ago before setting off on my eastward trek. Instead it had been decided that the silver ballroom in the east wing of the Winter Palace would better suit our purposes. This was to be a fine evening, with almost a full complement of orchestral musicians, and a large gathering of wealthy and influential people of the city. Nevertheless, our numbers would not be so great as to fill the grand ballroom, and the Tsarina had explained that the atmosphere would be more convivial in the smaller room. It looked very pretty, with its gleaming white walls and silver-framed mirrors and liveried servants aplenty
to wait upon the guests.

  I made my way to the ballroom an hour after the official start of the evening, to give others the opportunity to arrive before me. I was announced at the door and descended the short sweep of stairs on the arm of Count Morsky, who was my senior by a good twenty years, but tall, straight of back, and with a proud bearing that made him a perfectly suitable escort. I was a little concerned that he might make a less satisfactory dance partner. After a pause in the music to allow for polite applause to acknowledge the arrival of the guest of honour, I signalled my thanks, and the orchestra struck up a lively waltz, and the Count proved himself to be lighter on his feet than I had anticipated.

  Between dances I circulated among the guests. Count Morsky made the necessary introductions, enabling me to recount tales of my mission and to elicit promises of financial support for the building of the lepers’ hospital where I could. After an hour or more, however, I began to notice that people were remarking upon the absence of the Tsarina.