Page 79 of The Unseen
The fresh ink looked alarmingly dark against the creamy beige page, but it would fade in time. Valentina’s handwriting wouldn’t draw any attention to the entry. Russian children were taught penmanship as a matter of course, so everyone’s handwriting looked very similar, since individuality was not encouraged. The entry blended right in. The only way she would get found out was if Father Mikhail had familiarized himself with all the entries upon starting his tenure as priest at the Church of St. Sophia. She could only pray that he hadn’t.
Valentina closed the register, put away the pen and ink, and slowly walked toward the door. A few stragglers were still at the curb, getting into a motorcar. An elderly woman was already installed in the front seat and a tall, gaunt gentleman with a pencil moustache was holding the door open for his wife, who was about to get in.
She looked at Valentina with interest. “We thought you’d gone to the cemetery with the others,” the woman said. Valentina knew the family, but her mind suddenly went blank and she couldn’t recall their surname.
“I, eh, had to go to the lavatory,” Valentina stammered. “There isn’t one at the cemetery.”
“Indeed there isn’t. Would you like a lift?” the man asked solicitously. “We have room for one more.”
“I would be most grateful,” Valentina replied. She hadn’t planned on going to the cemetery for the burial, but this opportunity was too good to miss. There was something she needed to check and a trip to the cemetery by omnibus would take up most of her day.
Valentina got into the car and settled in next to the woman, whose name she was finally able to recall. Angela Vitalyevna Danilova.
“How is your dear mama?” Angela Vitalyevna asked. “I do so hope to further our acquaintance.”
“She’s well. Thank you.”
“Do you think she’d accept my invitation if I asked her to tea?”
Valentina hated to be put on the spot. Elena didn’t like Angela Danilova. She thought her common and ill-mannered, but Valentina could hardly be rude. “I am sure she would,” she replied, hoping the woman wouldn’t get around to issuing the invitation.
“I’ll send her a note today, after we return from the pominki. I do hope they have some decent food. I’m starving. I overslept and had no time for breakfast,” she complained.
“I’m sure Agraphena’s daughter will have a good spread,” Angela’s mother-in-law replied from the front. “They have an excellent cook.”
“I hope they’ll have blini with caviar,” Angela said wistfully. “We don’t often have such delicacies anymore. The blini we can manage, but caviar is so dear. It’s worth its weight in gold.”
“Really, Angela,” her husband said, sounding extremely annoyed. “One would think you only came to the funeral for the food.”
Angela Vitalyevna smiled guiltily. “I came to pay my respects to a woman I liked and admired. And I will eat my fill and drink to her memory along with everyone else.” She turned away from Valentina and looked sulkily out the window. “I hope it doesn’t rain,” she mumbled.
The rest of the ride passed in silence, which was just fine with Valentina. Perhaps she would go to thepominkiafter all. Now that the terrifying task of having to tamper with the register was behind her, she was suddenly ravenously hungry. She could use a shot of vodka as well, to calm her nerves. What she did today would either save her or point a finger in her direction once Dmitri’s disappearance became public knowledge. She leaned back against the seat and closed her eyes, desperate for a few moments to compose herself.
FORTY-SIX
“Where in the world is Dmitri?” Elena asked as they sat down to supper one night at the end of May. “He said he’d be gone a few days, but it’s been nearly a fortnight. Several gentlemen have called for him on the telephone. It seems he missed his appointments with them. A Mr. Murdoch called several times, demanding to know where Dmitri is. Oh, I do hope he’s all right.”
“I’m sure he is, Mama,” Tanya replied as she helped herself to some fricassee. “I do wish he’d hurry back. Kolya will need to be collected from school soon, and then we can go on our little jaunt to the country. I can’t wait.”
Valentina tried to hide her shock. She’d forgotten all about Kolya. The school year was nearly at an end. She’d have to take the train and bring him back to London for the summer, along with his trunk. In the past, Dmitri had taken the motorcar, but now it was up to her to fetch him back.
“Valya, you should learn to drive,” Tanya said.
“I couldn’t.”
“Why ever not? There are female motorists. I read that a woman named Alice Ramsey drove across the United States in 1909. That was a decade ago.”
“A respectable woman shouldn’t drive. Such pursuits are for men,” Elena said sharply.
“Why? Is a male appendage required to drive a car?” Valentina asked, suddenly irritated with her mother. It was nearly 1920. The world was changing, and they had to change with it. She was through being told what to do and being treated like a commodity. If she survived long enough to have a future, she would make her own choices and be her own woman.
“Don’t be vulgar, dear. It simply isn’t ladylike. And anyway, Valentina, you should really focus your energies ongetting married. You are going to be twenty-one next year. You’ve had plenty of time to grieve for Alexei. A woman needs a husband, and you mustn’t miss your chance. There’s nothing worse than being a spinster.”
“Isn’t there?” Valentina asked, trying to hide her sarcasm. Being sodomized by a man you despised and then forced to suck his cock until his seed erupted in a warm stream into your mouth was infinitely worse, in her opinion. She’d take being a spinster any day.
“No, there isn’t. As a spinster, you are nothing, no one. You need a husband to protect you, give you respectability. And children. Having children makes many things bearable.”
“Such as?” Valentina asked.
