The House of Special Purpose (25 page)

And through it all, through those three weeks of torture, the Tsaritsa, that good woman, had almost never left his side. She sat beside him, holding his hand, talking to him, whispering to him, encouraging him. We were not friends, she and I, but by God, I could recognize a loving and devoted mother when I saw one, all the more so for having never had one myself. By the time it was over and the relief finally came, by the time Alexei began to improve and his strength started to return, she had aged noticeably. Her hair had turned grey, her skin had become blotched with stress. That one incident, for which I had been entirely responsible, had altered her irreparably.

‘If I could have helped him, I would have,’ I told the
starets
. ‘There was nothing I could do.’

‘Of course not,’ he said, extending his hands and smiling. ‘But you must never blame yourself for what happened. Indeed, that is why I came to visit you tonight, Georgy. To thank you.’

I frowned and stared at him. ‘To thank me?’ I asked.

‘But of course. Her Majesty, the Tsaritsa, has been much occupied with the health of her son of late. She is concerned that she might have appeared … unfriendly towards you.’

‘I thought no such thing, Father Gregory,’ I lied. ‘She is the Empress. She may treat me as she wishes.’

‘Yes, but we thought it important that you understand that you are valued.’

‘We?’

‘The Tsaritsa and I.’

I raised an eyebrow, surprised by the formulation. ‘Well, gratitude is not necessary,’ I said finally, confused by his meaning, unconvinced that the Tsaritsa had ever said any such thing or sent him on this mission at all. ‘And please reassure Her Majesty that
I will do everything in my power to ensure that no such incident ever takes place again.’

‘You’re not just a handsome boy, are you?’ he asked quietly, taking a step towards me so that only a few inches separated us and my back was pressed against the wall. ‘You’re also a very loyal one.’

‘I hope so,’ I replied, wishing that he would leave.

‘Boys your age are not always so loyal,’ he said, stepping closer still, and now I could smell the foulness of his breath and feel his body beginning to press against my own. My stomach turned; I felt a sudden conviction that he had been sent to murder me, but instead he simply turned his head a little and smiled, a ghastly expression of doom, and held my gaze with those terrible eyes. ‘You are loyal to the entire family,’ he purred quietly, running a finger from the top of my shoulder along my arm. ‘Here, you took a bullet for one,’ he whispered, hesitating at precisely the spot where Kolek’s bullet had passed through my shoulder. ‘And here you would take a bullet for the boy,’ he said, pressing the palm of his hand flat against my chest, my heart pounding quickly beneath his touch. ‘But where will you be when the bullets come in the future?’

‘Father Gregory,’ I whispered, desperate for him to leave me now, ‘please … I beg of you.’

‘Where will you be, Georgy? When the doors open and the men step inside with their revolvers? Will you take the bullets then or will you be hiding like a coward in the trees?’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ I cried, confused by what he was saying. ‘What men? What bullets?’

‘You’d step in front of one for the girl, wouldn’t you?’

‘What girl?’

‘You know what girl, Georgy,’ he said, his hand flat against my abdomen now, and I waited for the knife to appear, for him to press it into my gut and twist it to kill me. He knew; that much was obvious. He had discovered the truth about Anastasia and me
and had been sent to kill me for my indiscretion. I wasn’t going to deny it. I already loved her and if that was to be my doom, then so be it. I closed my eyes, waiting for my flesh to be pierced and the blood to spill from the cavity, drowning my bare feet with its glutinous warmth, but second followed second and minute followed minute and nothing happened, no blade ripped me in two, and when I opened my eyes again, he was gone. It was as if he had just dissolved into the atmosphere, leaving no trace of his presence behind.

Perspiring, trembling with fear, I collapsed on to the floor and buried my head in my hands. The
starets
knew everything, of course he did. But who would he tell? And when they found out, what would become of me then?

The lady who was in charge of all domestic staff in the Winter Palace was the Duchess Rajisa Afonovna, and she had been surprisingly friendly to me since our first meeting, the day after my arrival in the city. Our paths crossed from time to time in the family quarters as she was an intimate of the Tsaritsa’s, and when they did, she always greeted me cordially and stopped to converse, which many of her rank would never deign to do. So it was to her that I went the next morning to enquire on Asya’s behalf for employment.

She maintained a relatively small office on the first floor of the palace. I knocked and waited for her to answer, before poking my head around the door and greeting her.

‘Georgy Daniilovich,’ she said, breaking into a smile and beckoning me to enter. ‘This is a welcome surprise.’

‘Good morning, Your Grace,’ I replied, closing the door behind me and taking a seat where she indicated, next to her on a small sofa. I would have preferred the single armchair a few feet from there, but the chair indicated a position of superiority and I would not have dared. ‘I hope I’m not disturbing you.’

‘You’re not,’ she said, gathering up some papers before her and
laying them carefully on a small table. ‘If anything, I welcome the distraction.’

I nodded, surprised again by how pleasantly she treated me, in marked contrast to her friend, the Tsaritsa Alexandra, who took no notice of me at all.

‘How are you anyway?’ she asked. ‘You are settling in well?’

‘Very well, Your Grace,’ I replied, nodding. ‘I believe I am starting to understand my duties.’

‘And your responsibilites too, I hope,’ she said. ‘For you have many of them. You have earned the trust of the Tsarevich, I hear.’

‘Indeed,’ I said, breaking into a fond smile at the mention of Alexei. ‘He keeps me busy, if I may say that.’

‘You may,’ she said, laughing. ‘He’s an energetic boy, that’s certain. He will be a great Tsar one day, all being well.’ I frowned, surprised by her choice of words, and for a moment I thought I saw the beginnings of a blush on her cheeks. ‘A great Tsar, most certainly,’ she said then, correcting herself. ‘But you must find it strange here, do you not?’

‘Strange?’ I asked, uncertain what she meant.

‘Being so far from home. From your family. My own son, Lev, I miss him every day.’

‘He doesn’t live in St Petersburg, then?’

‘Usually, yes,’ she said. ‘But he is …’ She sighed and shook her head. ‘He is a soldier, of course. He is fighting for his country.’

‘Yes,’ I said. It made sense. The Duchess was no more than forty years old; it made sense that she would have a son in the army.

‘He can’t be more than a couple of years older than you, actually,’ she said. ‘You remind me of him, in some ways.’

‘I do?’ I asked.

‘A little. You have his height. And his hair. And his build. Actually,’ she added, laughing a little, ‘you might be brothers.’

‘You must worry about him.’

‘From time to time I get a full night’s sleep,’ she said with a half-smile. ‘But not often.’

‘I’m sorry,’ I said, sensing that she might be getting upset. ‘I shouldn’t be discussing this with you.’

‘It’s all right,’ she said, shaking her head and smiling. ‘Sometimes I am scared for him, sometimes I am proud. And sometimes I am angry.’

‘Angry?’ I asked, surprised. ‘At what?’

She hesitated and looked away. She looked as if she was struggling to stop herself from saying what she wanted to say. ‘At the direction he takes us in,’ she said quietly, through gritted teeth. ‘At the madness of it all. At his utter incompetence in military matters. He’ll have us all killed before he’s done.’

‘Your son?’ I asked, her sentences making little sense to me.

‘No, not my son, Georgy. He is nothing more than a pawn. But I have said too much. You came to see me. How can I help you?’

I hesitated, unsure whether I should pursue the conversation we had been having, but decided against it. ‘I just wondered about the domestic help,’ I said. ‘Whether you needed another person on the staff.’

‘You’re not thinking of trading the Leib Guard for a set of apron strings, I trust?’

‘No,’ I said, laughing a little. ‘No, it’s my sister, Asya Daniilovna. She has ambitions towards service.’

‘Does she indeed?’ asked the Duchess, appearing interested. ‘She is a girl of good character, I assume?’

‘Irreproachable.’

‘Well, there are always places here for girls of irreproachable character,’ she said, smiling. ‘Is she here in St Petersburg, or back in … I’m sorry, Georgy, I forget where it is you are from?’

‘Kashin,’ I reminded her. ‘The Grand Duchy of Muscovy. And no, she’s not there, she’s already …’ I hesitated and corrected myself. ‘Forgive me,’ I said. ‘Yes, she’s still there. But she would like to leave.’

‘Well, I daresay she could be here in a few days if we send word to her. Write to her, Georgy, by all means. Invite her here and let
me know when she arrives. I can most certainly find a position for her.’

‘Thank you,’ I said, standing up, uncertain why I had lied about Asya’s whereabouts. ‘You are too kind to me.’

‘It’s like I said—’ She smiled, picking up her papers once again. ‘You remind me of my son.’

‘I will light a candle for him,’ I said.

‘Thank you.’

I bowed deeply and left the room, standing in the corridor outside for a few moments. A portion of me was delighted that I could return to my sister with such news, that I could be a hero to her once again. Another part of me felt angry that she was entering this new world of mine, a world that I wanted only for myself.

‘You seem confused, Georgy Daniilovich,’ said the
starets
, Father Gregory, who appeared before me so suddenly, so unexpectedly, that I let out a cry of surprise. ‘Be at peace,’ he urged quietly, reaching a hand out and holding my shoulder, caressing it slightly.

‘I am late for Count Charnetsky,’ I said, trying to pull away from him.

‘An odious man,’ he said, smiling, displaying his yellow teeth. ‘Why go to him? Why not stay with me?’

And what unexpected, impossible-to-understand part of me felt a desire to say
Yes, all right
? I shrugged him off, however, and walked away without a word.

‘You’ll make the right decision in the end, Georgy,’ he called after me, his voice echoing along the stone walls and reverberating in my head. ‘You will put your own pleasures ahead of the desires of others. That is what makes you human.’

I broke into a run and within a moment the sound of my boots banging along the corridor drowned out what I knew was the truth behind his words.

Throughout the winter and early spring of 1916, I made it my business to ensure that the Tsarevich did not engage in any
activities which might result in his receiving an injury; no easy task when confronted with a lively, eleven-year-old boy who saw no reason why he should be refused the same games and exercises that his sisters enjoyed. There were many occasions when he lost his temper with his minders, throwing himself on his bed and beating the pillows with his fists, so upset was he by the manner in which he was protected. Perhaps this frustration was exacerbated by the fact that he came from a family of sisters, and he was the Tsarevich, and yet only they could do the things that he most desired.

In the late winter, the Imperial Family went on a skating expedition together on a frozen lake near Tsarskoe Selo. The Tsar himself and his four daughters, along with the tutor Monsieur Gilliard and Dr Federov, spent the afternoon carving grand designs into the thick ice, while in the safety of the lake’s surround, wrapped in furs and gloves and hats, sat the Tsaritsa with her son.

‘Can’t I just go out there for a few minutes?’ he pleaded as the light started to dim and it became clear that the games would soon come to an end.

‘You know you can’t, my darling,’ replied his mother, smoothing his hair down along his forehead with her hand. ‘If anything should happen—’

‘But nothing will happen,’ he insisted. ‘I promise, I shall take great care.’

‘No, Alexei,’ she said with a sigh.

‘But it’s so unfair,’ he snapped, his cheeks burning with resentment. ‘I don’t see why I should be stuck over here, on this side of the lake, while my sisters are out there, having fun, and are allowed to do anything they want. Look at Tatiana. She’s practically blue with the cold. And yet no one insists that she should step away and warm herself up, do they? Look at Anastasia. She keeps staring over in my direction. It’s obvious that she wants me to join them.’

I was standing to the rear of the royal party and smiled a little to myself as he said this, for I knew that it was not her brother who Anastasia was looking towards, but myself. It was a continuing source of astonishment to me that we had managed to maintain the secrecy of our love affair over the course of almost a year. Of course, there was a great innocence to it all. We arranged clandestine meetings, wrote private notes to each other in a code of our own design, and when we saw to it that we could be alone together, we held hands and kissed and told each other our love would last for ever. We were wrapped up in each other and terrified that someone might learn of our romance, for discovery would mean certain separation.

‘You make all these demands, Alexei,’ said the Tsaritsa with an exhausted sigh as she filled a pewter mug with hot chocolate from a flask. ‘But surely I don’t need to remind you of the agonies you suffer when you have one of your falls.’

‘But I won’t
have
one of my falls,’ he insisted through gritted teeth. ‘Am I to be treated like this for the rest of my life? Am I to be wrapped in cotton wool and never allowed to be happy?’

‘No, Alexei, of course not. And when you are a man you may do as you wish, but for now it is I who make the decisions and they are in your best interests. Trust me on this.’