Page 21 of The Unseen
MARCH 15, 1917
Petrograd, Russia
The news came just after lunch, in the form of Petr, the coachman, who told his wife the cook, who in turn told Nyanushka, who came running down the corridor, as fast as her arthritic knees would allow, in search of her employer. Her wails could be heard throughout the house, high-pitched and mournful, and all the more frightening because Anna Sergeevna Portnaya was not a woman who gave vent to her emotions, especially in front of her betters.
It had been only a week since what was now being called the February Revolution had rocked Petrograd. The rebels were in charge of the city, and a provisional government had been established to preside over the country during this uncertain time. No one was quite sure what would happen next, but Ivan Kalinin fervently believed the situation would be resolved as soon as His Imperial Majesty got wind of it and send in troops to quash the rebellion. Ivan had little information to go on, as the newspapers were instructed what to print by the insurgents, and members of the family hadn’t left the house for fear of being harassed in the street by the rebels.
Valya and Tanya were in the music room, practicing their duet on the pianoforte, when they heard the commotion.
“Dear God, what now?” Tanya cried as her hands dropped away from the instrument.
“Let’s go find out.”
“Perhaps we should stay here and allow Papa to deal with it,” Tanya suggested.
“You can stay here. I’m going. I refuse to live in ignorance,” Valya countered and hurried toward the door.
The screams grew louder as Valya approached the library, where her father liked to spend an hour or two after luncheon. He read the paper, smoked his pipe, and occasionally took a well-deserved nap, safely away from the constant prattling of his wife. Kolya was allowed to join his papa for a game of chess now and again, but the girls never went into the library while their father was there, having been taught to respect his need for solitude. Living in a household consisting primarily of women wasn’t easy for any man, particularly Ivan Kalinin, who was intelligent and decisive, and couldn’t abide being argued with, something he had to deal with on a daily basis as a husband and a father of two teenaged daughters.
“Papa, what’s happened?” Valentina cried as she erupted into the library. Nyanushka was sitting in Papa’s chair, her apron pressed to her streaming eyes as Ivan tried to cajole her into accepting a snifter of cognac.
“Come now, Anna Sergeevna. You must calm down, for the sake of the children.”
She just shook her head, wailing even louder. Elena walked into the library, her hand held to her breast, her face the color of fresh snow. She’d been resting in her room after lunch, as was her custom.
“Vanya, what’s happened?” she cried, her eyes huge with fear.
Tanya came up behind Valentina, unable to keep away from the drama playing out in the library. She reached out and took Valya’s hand. Their father was pale, his eyes wide with a look of shock and uncertainty, and his movements unusually clumsy.
“It is being said that His Imperial Highness, Tsar Nikolai II, has abdicated the throne on behalf of himself and his son,” Ivan Kalinin announced. “Get the smelling salts,” he cried as Elena went down in a heap on the parquet floor. “Lenochka, darling, canyou hear me?” he pleaded with his wife. He lifted her into his arms and carried her into the next room, where he set her down on a satin settee. “Elena,” he called to her. “Elena.”
Elena’s eyelids began to flutter as she woke up, but she instantly blanched and cried out in alarm, recalling what her husband had said just before she fainted. “What’s happening? What will become of us, Vanya? How could the Tsar abandon us this way?”
“I’m sure he felt he had no choice, darling.”
“How can you say that? He’s the Tsar of all the Russians, not some middling bureaucrat. Of course he had a choice.”
“Elena, I will go out and try to discover all I can, but you must believe that all will be well.”
“How can anything ever be well again? Who will rule this country?”
“I expect the provisional government will continue to govern, as they have done for the past week. I’ll know more once I’ve spoken to?—”
“No!” Elena bellowed. “You are not to go out there. Do you hear me? If it’s indeed true that the Tsar has abdicated, then the news will be in tomorrow’s paper. That’s not the sort of information those cretins would wish to suppress. And if it isn’t true, we’ll find out soon enough, hopefully once the Imperial Army sweeps in and slaughters those traitors once and for all. I won’t have you out there on your own, braving the streets when they’re overrun with those…those…” Elena gave up as words failed her.
“All right. I won’t go anywhere. I will remain right here where you can keep an eye on me,” Ivan answered softly to pacify his near-hysterical wife. “You are right. Tomorrow’s papers will carry the story. This is the sort of news the rebels will want to crow about from every rooftop.”
“We’ll have to cancel the party. And on such short notice. That’s terrible manners, Ivan. What will everyone think?” Elena moaned.
“Elena, this is not the time to concern yourself with parties, and no one will think ill of us. I wager most of our friends are too frightened to go out, much less attend parties. The important thing is that we are all well. The banks are still operating, the provisional government is maintaining control, and the streets are relatively safe. That’s all we can ask for at the moment. We’ll find out more in due course. Now, everyone, please return to what you were doing.”
Valentina and Tanya shuffled back to the music room, their spirits in tatters. “I’m sorry about your birthday, Valya.”
“So am I. I was really looking forward to the party, and the announcement of the engagement. Telling everyone makes it more real somehow, more tangible.”
“It is real. You need never doubt that.”
“I know. It’s just that this was supposed to be such a happy occasion. I’ve dreamed of it for months, imagining exactly how it would happen.”
