The Russian Century

face like the sun coming out from behind clouds. Her face immediately became warm and attractive. We were left alone. “Well, tell me everything from the beginning!” I told her everything beginning with my grandmother, my nanny and the estate, and ending with the Germans. It turned out that Vera Andereevna knew my aunt Vera Vladimirovna well. The latter had a model gimnazium in Moscow. We were very distant relatives of their family. “You will stay here for awhile and go to school. It is in the same building. It is our former gimnazium. One of my daughters is its head, another teaches there. You will receive a school lunch from the state. I will write to Vera Vladimirovna and find out about your sister from her. Go now; my daughter Anastasia Mikhailovna, will take care of you.” I thanked her awkwardly and exited.

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Chapter Sixteen

At a desk in the neighboring room sat a woman with the same elongated, stern face. I stopped, not daring to interrupt her work. She indicated the chair with her eyes and continued to write. I probably felt the way that village children did, godchildren of grandmother Vera, who were brought in by their mothers to pay their respects. Grandmother would call the child to come closer and affectionately give a pat on the cheek, as he covered his face. “Why is he hiding?” she would ask in amazement. “He don’t dare” [look up], the child’s mother would explain.

In this large, cold apartment with its severe imperial furniture I too “did not dare” after the less than respectable conditions to which I had become accustomed over the past period. Finally, Anastasia Mikhailovna completed her work and, knocking, entered her mother’s bedroom. After a few minutes she came out smiling with the same unexpected, sunny smile as her mother. “Hi Vera, do you want to take a bath before supper? We will be eating in three quarters of an hour.”

I became bewildered in the large, snow-white bathroom. Everything glistened with the surgical cleanliness of an operating room. Could I dry myself with one of the fluffy towels neatly folded in a pile on a stool? Painstakingly I rinsed the bath after using it. For the potential flight from Master Kurt, I had put on my best dress over the dirty tights, sweated through from training. I washed them in the sink, wrung them out thoroughly, and hung them on the radiator. I put the dress on over my naked body. I smoothed out my hair and, looking carefully at everything, checking to see that I had not left any dirty tracks, I walked out of the bathroom. A table was set for four in the large dining room, but nobody was in the room yet. Perhaps I’ll be eating in the kitchen? I’d better get there ahead of time. Entering, I saw Vera Andreevna’s other daughter, Ekaterina Mikhailovna, who had opened the door to my salvation. In a robe and a white kerchief on her head, she was preparing a supper tray for her mother. “May I help you with anything?” I asked. “No, thank you. Go to the dining room, we’ll be eating right away.”

We sat down at the table as soon as Ekaterina Mikhailovna finished with her mother’s supper. There were two sisters, Anastasia Mikhailovna’s husband, and me. The husband was cut from completely different cloth than the Volkonskii ladies. It seemed to me that he did not feel particularly at ease in this situation. Later I found out that he had been a teacher in the former gim-nazium; that he and Anastasia had fallen in love and married after the revolution. They were totally different in terms of their background and upbringing.

Their model gimnazium was transferred to the state but they were left in charge to teach and, by the way, were greatly respected. Their graduates received a good and well-rounded education. Nothing had changed in the apartment or in their unfailingly strict and modest routine.

Vera Volkonskaia, Orphaned by Revolution

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After supper I offered to wash the dishes, saying that I had learned to do this properly at the orphanage. While washing the dishes, and alone in the kitchen, I partially shook off my feelings of confusion and restraint. “A real village girl at the lords’,” I thought.

I slept on a small folding bed which was kept in a closet in the living room during the day. In school, I felt that I was way behind the others. I began to be very attentive trying to get at least a reasonable hold on the subject at hand. After lessons, there was a free dinner, simple but filling. Then, we did our homework right in school. It was hard for me, but everyone around me was so busy that I could not ask anyone to explain things. I would see how things would proceed. I did not go outside even once. I was afraid of running into somebody from the circus.

Vera Andreevna found out that aunt Vera had died, but Varia was living in a students’ dormitory. Soon a letter addressed to the Volkonskiis arrived from her in which she thanked them for helping me and informed me that she would come to Kiev for a few days during vacation.

Finally it came, the long awaited day of her arrival. I answered the doorbell and flung myself on her neck. “How you’ve grown,” exclaimed Varia.

The Volkonskiis greeted her very warmly. She spent quite a long time with Vera Adreevna, and came out smiling. In the morning, she and I went to the orphanage to see our brothers. This was a row of small, new wooden houses built next to the dairy farm. On one side were meadows, on the other a pine forest. The boys looked good and, evidently, were not unhappy. The lady in charge, with whom Varia spoke, fully understood how important it was for her to graduate from college before taking the responsibility for us upon herself. “It would be good for the boys if their sister could work in our laundry. If she is sensible, she could work and go to school. And we would pay her a little.” “For the trip to Leningrad,” I thought. We discussed this and decided that this was not bad at all. I would see my brothers and would not be dependent on anyone except for the head of the orphanage, who appeared to be a sincere and kind person. She offered that Varia and I live there for a few days of Varia’s vacation. “There is enough milk and porridge for everybody. Your sister will learn what to do in the laundry.” Varia and I checked the clothes as well as the income and expense books. “When you give out clothes—get a receipt. Keep everything in order and all will be clear.”

We went walking in the woods with Varia and talked of how good things would be when she graduated and began to work. She promised that as soon as she got her diploma she would take me immediately and then, later, the boys. “You understand that I now live in a dormitory and cannot pay for a room until I start working.” “I understand and how!” I exclaimed, kissing her.

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Chapter Sixteen

I was happy. There was something new to hope for. I liked the orphanage and the director was a simple and kind lady. She saw to it that the “laundry girl” was allotted a little income. She would come by to see how I was doing. Comfortable about us, Varia left for Leningrad. I wrote a letter to Vera An-dreevna thanking her for everything that she had done for me.

I didn’t see the boys much. They had a precise daily schedule. School in the morning, return, dinner, homework, work in the service shops, a walk, supper, and to bed at nine o’clock. It was worse with my studies. I was able to go to school three times a week. True, the teacher assigned lessons to do at home. I tried to study in the evenings but frequently fell asleep over a book.

During free time in the day I ran into the woods. In the fragrant thickets of pine, walking on dry crunchy