Page 48 of The Unseen
“Mama, you haven’t seen him in years,” Valentina protested. She’d never heard of this Dmitri Pavlovich before, but her mother was adamant.
“And I have never seen Alexei’s aunt. What makes you think she’ll help us? And the Petrovs will not flee, not with Alexei dead. They’ll wish to bury him.”
Like we buried Papa, Valentina thought bitterly. She’d extracted a promise from Olga Alexandrovna that Ivan Kalinin would get a proper burial. There’d be no service, given the circumstances, but at least he’d be interred at Volkovskoe Cemetery next to his parents. Elena wished to remain until after the funeral, but Valentina wouldn’t hear of it.
“Mama, we have to go now. Today. Papa and Alexei are dead. We could be next. You have your children to think of.”
“My children?” Elena asked, confused. “Who’d want to hurt my children?”
Valentina didn’t bother to reply. She had no idea what would happen in the days to come, but she couldn’t see anything worth staying for. Their house was no longer safe. The people they’d known all their lives were in danger, and the future of Russia was uncertain. There was no reason to remain and risk their lives.
She was right, of course. Elena retreated into a shell of her own misery once they left Petrograd, but Valentina talked to other refugees as they spent countless hours waiting for connections and traveling on overcrowded trains. People’s homes had been broken into, their possessions stolen, their lives threatened. Some werewise enough not to resist, but many had chosen to fight back, and now their bereft families recalled their bravery and prayed for the eternal souls of their loved ones.
The journey to London took nearly a month. With the war still raging and many others like them trying to escape, everything took twice as long. There was no direct route, so they traveled through Finland, into Sweden and Norway, and then by boat to Great Britain. London had seemed grim and gray when they arrived, a city scarred by war. There were mounds of rubble where bombs had fallen and numerous ambulances racing toward hospitals with their precious cargo. But the people seemed surprisingly cheerful, and defiant. They hadn’t been brought to their knees, and Valentina found their bravery inspiring. She wouldn’t be brought to her knees either, she had vowed.
And now, two months after the fateful events that changed all their lives, they were installed in Whitechapel, a slum if ever there was one. Valentina had sold off some of her mother’s jewelry to finance their journey and rented the mean little room on the first floor of a crumbling building that smelled of urine and decay. She could have found something better, but she was terrified to spend their money too fast, and positive that she’d been grossly cheated by the pawn broker who purchased the jewels. Surely it was worth more, but she knew nothing of the value of the British pound, nor did she have an inkling of what one pound could buy versus one ruble. They still had some money, but if they didn’t find a way to support themselves soon, the money would run out, and they would be destitute.
“Oh, Dmitri Palvovich, where are you?” Valentina whispered into the frigid air. “Why have you not replied to Mama’s letters?”
“Valya, are you talking to yourself?” Tanya asked as she woke. “God, I need to pee.” She slid out of bed and pulled the chamber pot from beneath the bed. “Ah,” Tanya said as she squatted over it, completely unashamed. They’d let go of all their pretensions, living like the lowest orders of society.
“Tanya, today is Christmas Eve,” Valentina whispered.
“Don’t remind me. It’s too painful to even contemplate.”
“I think we should do something special,” Valentina suggested.
“Really, like what? Should we dress the tree, have a magnificent meal, and sing around the piano? Oh, and then we should open presents,” Tanya added sarcastically.
“We don’t have money for decorations or presents, but we should get something nice for supper. A little treat. What do you say?”
“I don’t know, Valya. It’s up to you. Sure, I’d love something besides boiled potatoes, cabbage soup, and brown bread with butter, but I’d rather eat that than find myself homeless next month.”
“You have a point there. We must find employment.”
“What kind of employment?” Tanya moaned.
“Any kind. Mama refuses to leave the room, so it’s up to you and me to find a way to support us.”
“Mama is in shock. I don’t think she’ll ever recover. Just look at her.”
Valentina didn’t need to look at her mother to know what Tanya was referring to. Elena had grown skeletally thin and her skin, which had been supple and creamy, was now gray and papery. Her eyes were often unfocused and she seemed to forget what happened for long stretches of time, forcing her daughters to repeatedly explain to her what they were doing in the dingy room and how they had come to be there. Her cousin’s ongoing silence did nothing to aid their mother’s mental state, and the girls were growing desperate with worry. They couldn’t remain in this room forever, nor could they neglect Kolya’s education. He’d turned eight in November but hadn’t had any formal lessons sinceOctober, when he’d last studied with Olga Alexandrovna. This was their new reality and they had to find a way to move forward, rather than survive from day to day and wait for a miracle.
TWENTY-FIVE
JANUARY 1918
London, England
Valentina looked at her hands. What she wouldn’t give for her fur muff and the creamy lotion she’d used back at home during the coldest months. Washing their clothes in cold water with smelly lye soap irritated her skin and left her hands red and chapped. She was hungry too, nearly all the time. Not only did she not get enough sustenance, but she missed variety and taste. The food they ate had no flavor. Her mouth watered when she recalled the Christmas feast. She’d decided to splurge after all. Nothing major, just something to lift their sagging spirits. After much consideration, Valentina had purchased four meat pies, four oranges, and four mince pies. They had eaten the mince pies on Christmas Eve and enjoyed the meat pies and oranges on Christmas Day. They hadn’t found a Russian Orthodox Church they could attend, so they held their own service, during which they commended the souls of Ivan Kalinin and Alexei Petrov to Christ.
Their Christmas had been sad and lonely, but now that the New Year had begun, they had more pressing matters. The money was going fast, mostly due to their need for coal. Elena was always cold, huddling on the bed beneath her fur coat, and Kolya fell ill just after Christmas and still had a chesty cough and a runny nose. They also spent too much on tea and sugar, and their one luxury, a meaty bone from the butcher once a fortnight to make stew.
Valentina wrung out the laundry and strung it up to dry on a string suspended from one end of the room to the other. Everything took days to dry because of the infernal damp, but at least their clothes were relatively clean, although growing threadbare from so much use. Valentina made herself a cup of tea and sat down by the window. Elena was asleep, and Tanya hadtaken Kolya for a walk. He was still coughing, but he needed fresh air and exercise or he might get worse.
Valentina rested her chin in her hands and considered their situation. They had to find work. They’d picked up some English over the past few months, but not enough to work in a shop or with children. They had no useful skills, so the only employment they could aspire to would be as char women or laundresses. Tanya was handy with a needle, so perhaps they might try to get her a position with a seamstress. She might not be permitted to do anything fancy, but it didn’t take great creativity to take up hems and sew on buttons. Valentina had considered looking for a position as a scullion, since that was unskilled grunt work, but even for that, she needed to understand enough English to know what was being asked of her and she’d have to live on the premises. She couldn’t leave Tanya and Kolya. They needed her, so whatever she did had to be done during the day so she could return home in the evenings.
Valentina finished her tea and sighed. She’d never imagined things would be so hard. At this time last year, she’d been dreaming of her engagement and wedding, and of the home she’d share with Alexei, filled with beautiful things and capable servants. And now she was here, in London, with no one to turn to for help and no one to ask for advice. Her hand closed around the little blue egg Alexei had given her. She would never part with it. Ever. No matter what. It was her only link to that other life, and to the man she’d loved.Oh, Alyosha,how I miss you, my darling. I wish you were here. You’d make everything all right.
