‘You told him we would do no such thing, of course?’ interrupted the Tsaritsa, sounding appalled at the very idea.
‘Of course I did, Sunny,’ he replied irritably. ‘But it’s becoming difficult to put up a convincing argument. Most of the Russian Polish territories are now controlled by Cousin Willy and his German thugs, not to mention the Baltic regions.’ I felt my eyes roll in my head as he said this; it struck me as extraordinary that the leaders of each of these countries bore such an intimate familial relationship to each other. It was as if the entire matter was nothing more than a childish game: Willy, Georgie and Nicky running around a garden, setting out their forts and toy soldiers, enjoying an afternoon of great sport until one of them went too far and they had to be separated by a responsible adult. ‘No, I’ve made my mind up,’ he said in a determined voice. ‘If I place myself at the head of the army, then it becomes a message to both our allies and our enemies of the seriousness of my intentions. And it will be good for the men’s morale, too. It’s important that they see me as a warrior Tsar, a ruler who will fight alongside them.’
‘Then you must go,’ she replied with a shrug as she separated the meat of a lobster from its shell and examined it for
imperfections, before allowing it the honour of being eaten by her. ‘But while you are away—’
‘You shall, of course, be at the helm of our constitutional duties,’ he said, anticipating her question. ‘As tradition dictates.’
‘Thank you, Nicky,’ she smiled, reaching across and placing a hand on top of his for a moment. ‘It pleases me that you have so much faith in me.’
‘But of course I do,’ he replied, not sounding terribly convinced by the wisdom of this decision, but knowing that it would be impossible to place anyone else in a position superior to his wife. The only other appropriate person was eleven years old and not yet ready for such responsibility.
‘And anyway,’ said the Tsaritsa quietly, looking away from her husband, ‘I shall have my advisors near by at all times. I promise to listen carefully to your ministers – even Stürmer, whom I despise.’
‘He’s an effective Prime Minister, my darling.’
‘He’s a fop and a faint heart,’ she snapped. ‘But he is your choice and he will be offered every courtesy, as befits his office. And Father Gregory will never be far from my side, of course. His counsel will be invaluable.’
I noticed the Tsar freeze for a moment when she mentioned the
starets
’ name, and a pulse in his jaw reflected his hostility to the idea of any influence that malevolent creature could extend, but if there were concerns or arguments that he wanted to make, he kept them to himself for now and simply nodded his head in resignation.
‘Then you will be well served,’ he offered quietly after a respectable pause, and no more was said on the subject.
‘Not that I will be able to spend all my time on constitutional matters,’ continued the Tsaritsa a few moments later, her voice betraying a little anxiety now, and I found myself turning my head slightly to look at her, as did her husband, who put down his cup and frowned.
‘Oh?’ he asked. ‘And why is that?’
‘I’ve had an idea,’ she said. ‘And I hope you’ll think it a good one.’
‘Well, I can’t decide that until you tell me what it is, now can I?’ he asked, smiling at her, although his tone suggested some impatience, as if he was dreading what his wife might be considering next.
‘I thought I might do something to help the people too,’ she said. ‘You know I visited that hospital opposite St Isaac’s Cathedral last week, don’t you?’
‘Yes, you mentioned it.’
‘Well, it was horrible, Nicky, quite horrible. They don’t have enough doctors or nurses to tend to the patients and they arrive, hundreds of them, throughout the day. And not just there, but all over the city. I’m told there are more than eighty hospitals scattered around St Petersburg now.’
The Tsar frowned and looked away from her for a moment; he didn’t like to be confronted with the realities of the war he was fighting. The image of the young men arriving on stretchers was not one he liked to consider.
‘I’m sure that everything that can be done for them is being done, Sunny,’ he said finally.
‘But that’s just it,’ she replied, leaning forward, her face flushed with excitement. ‘There’s always more that can be done. And I thought that I might be the one to do it. I thought I could help out as a nurse.’
For the first time that I could remember there was absolute silence in the Imperial dining room. Every member of the family sat as if they had been turned to stone, their knives and forks suspended in mid-air, staring at the Tsaritsa as if they could not quite believe what she had just said.
‘Well, why are you all looking at me so?’ she asked, turning from one face to another. ‘Is it really so extraordinary that I would want to help these suffering boys?’
‘No, of course not, my darling,’ said the Tsar, recovering his
voice. ‘It’s just … well, you have no training as a nurse, that’s all. Perhaps you would be more of a hindrance to the good work which is being done there.’
‘But that’s just it, Nicky,’ she insisted. ‘I spoke to one of the doctors and he told me that it would take only a few days to train a lay person such as myself to assist in the basic tasks of nursing. Oh, it’s not as if we would be performing operations or anything like that. We’d just be there to help out. To tend to wounds, to change dressings, even to clean up a little. I feel … you see, this country has been very kind to me since you brought me here all those years ago. And for every disrespectful cur who slanders my name, there are a thousand loyal Russians who love their Empress and would lay down their lives for her. This is my way of proving myself to them. Say I can do it, Nicky, please do.’
The Tsar tapped his fingers on the tablecloth for a moment as he considered her request, no doubt as surprised by his wife’s sudden rush of philanthropy as the rest of us were. However, she appeared to be sincere, and finally he shrugged and offered a nervous smile, before nodding his head.
‘I think it’s a wonderful idea, Sunny,’ he said. ‘And of course you have my permission. Just be careful, that’s all I ask. There are security arrangements that will have to be put in place, but if it’s what you want, then who am I to stand in your way? The people will see how devoted we both are to their welfare and to the success of the war effort. Only I must ask, you said “we,” not “I”. What did you mean by that?’
‘Well, I shouldn’t like to be there alone,’ she said, turning towards the rest of the family now. ‘I thought that Olga and Tatiana might join me too. They are of age, after all. And they can be of use.’
I turned to look at the Empress’s two eldest daughters, who had both grown a little pale at the mention of their names. They said nothing at first, looking instead from their mother to their father, and then towards each other in dismay.
‘Father?’ began Tatiana, but he was already nodding his head furiously and appeared to have determined on his response.
‘It’s a magnificent idea, Sunny,’ he said. ‘And, my daughters, I cannot tell you how proud I am of you both that you would want to help out in this way.’
‘But Father,’ said Olga, who looked appalled at the idea, ‘this is the first that either of us has heard of—’
‘You make me very proud of you, my darling,’ said the Tsar quietly, reaching across and taking his wife’s hand. ‘You all do. What a family I have! And if this doesn’t stop the
moujik
s from debasing our names, then I don’t know what will. It is actions like these that win wars, not fighting. Never fighting. You realize that, children, don’t you?’
‘What about me, Father?’ asked Anastasia suddenly. ‘Can I help too?’
‘No, no,
Shvipsik
,’ he said, laughing and shaking his head. ‘I think you’re a little too young yet to see such things.’
‘I’m fifteen!’
‘And when you are eighteen, like Tatiana, we can reconsider. If, God forbid, the war has not been won by then. But don’t worry, we can find other ways for you and Marie to be of use. We will all help out. The entire family.’
I breathed a sigh of relief that Anastasia was not to be permitted to join her mother and sisters, for the entire thing struck me as a foolish if generous idea. A group of untrained nurses gathered in one hospital, surrounded by bodyguards, sounded like a method for disturbing the work that was being done there rather than assisting. Perhaps my sigh was too loud, however, for the Tsaritsa turned and stared at me – as she was generally loath to do – and her eyes widened in irritation.
‘And you, Georgy Daniilovich,’ she said, ‘you have something to say on the matter?’
‘I beg your pardon, Your Majesty,’ I replied, blushing furiously. ‘A throat tickle, that was all.’
She raised an eyebrow in distaste before turning back to her meal, and I caught Anastasia’s eye, who was watching me and smiling as ever.
‘It’s all so horrible,’ said the Grand Duchess Tatiana several weeks later, as she sat with Marie, Anastasia and Alexei in their private drawing room at the end of a particularly trying day. She looked pale and had lost weight since her nursing duties had begun; the dark bags beneath her eyes testified to early mornings and late evenings, while her discomfort in her chair suggested that her back was beginning to ache from spending long hours leaning over the beds of the injured soldiers. As the Tsarevich was present with his sisters, so was I, while Sergei Stasyovich completed our party, not standing to formal attention as was proper, but resting on the arm of one of the sofas close to the Grand Duchess Marie, rolling a cigarette casually as if he was not a servant of the Imperial Family at all, but an intimate. ‘The hospitals are filled to capacity,’ continued Tatiana, ‘and the men are horribly injured, some with missing limbs or eyes. There’s blood everywhere. Constant moaning and wailing. The doctors run about and shout their orders with no regard for rank whatsoever and their language borders on the profane. There are mornings when I wake up and wish that I might fall ill myself in order not to have to be there.’
‘Tatiana,’ cried Marie, outraged, for she had her father’s sense of duty towards the soldiers and envied her older sisters their new responsibilities. She had pleaded with her mother to be allowed to join them as a nurse, but, as with Anastasia, her request had been denied. ‘You shouldn’t say such things. Think of the agonies our soldiers endure.’
‘Marie Nicolaevna is right,’ said Sergei, joining the conversation for the first time and staring at Tatiana with a look of pure distaste, an expression she had probably never seen on anyone’s face before. ‘Your disgust at the sight of blood is nothing compared to
the suffering these men endure. And what’s a little blood, after all? We’re all filled with it, no matter what the colour.’ I turned to look at him in surprise. It was one thing for us to be present at conversations such as this and even to offer a supportive comment from time to time, but to criticize one of the Grand Duchesses openly was an impertinence that could not go unanswered.
‘I’m not saying that I suffer more than they do, Sergei Stasyovich,’ replied Tatiana, her cheeks reddening noticeably as her anger rose. ‘I would never suggest such a thing. I simply meant that it is not a sight that anyone should have to witness, that’s all.’
‘Of course not, Tatiana,’ said Marie. ‘That much is obvious. But don’t you see? It’s all very well for us to discuss these matters, wrapped up safely together in the Winter Palace, but think of the young men who are dying to ensure the continuance of our way of life. Think of them and tell me that you do not ache for them.’
‘But sister, of course I ache for them,’ she protested, raising her voice now in frustration. ‘And I tend to their wounds and read to them and whisper in their ears and do all that I can to make them comfortable. Oh, it doesn’t matter! You have misunderstood me entirely. And as for you, Sergei Stasyovich,’ she added, turning to glare at him furiously, ‘you might not speak with such arrogance if you found yourself at the Front rather than here.’
‘Tatiana!’ cried Marie, appalled.
‘Well it’s true,’ she said, throwing her head back in a manner reminiscent of her mother. ‘Who is he to speak to me in such a fashion, anyway? What does he know of the war, after all, when he spends his days following all of us around and practising his cross-steps and flèche attacks?’
‘I know a little of it,’ replied Sergei, narrowing his eyes as he glared at her. ‘After all, I have six brothers fighting for your family’s continuance. Or had, anyway. Three have been killed, one is missing in action, and the other two I have heard no news of in more than seven weeks.’
To her credit, Tatiana blushed a little at this remark and perhaps felt a little ashamed of herself. I noticed that when Sergei mentioned his dead brothers, the Grand Duchess Marie sat forward in her seat, as if she wanted to go to him and offer comfort. There were tears resting gently in her eyes – she looked very beautiful at that moment, the shadows cast by the fire flickering across her pale skin. Sergei noticed them too and the corners of his mouth turned upwards slightly in an appreciative smile. I was surprised to observe such intimacy between the two, and was moved by it.
‘I don’t mean that I would try to find a way
not
to go,’ insisted Tatiana, looking across at each of us in turn, in order to ensure that we understood how seriously she meant this. ‘I just wish that the war would end soon, that’s all. Surely we all wish for that. Then we could go back to the way things used to be.’
‘But things will never be as they were,’ I heard myself say, and now it was my turn to be the recipient of her icy stare.
‘And why do you say that, Georgy Daniilovich?’
‘I only mean, Your Highness, that there are days and styles of living which are lost for ever. When the war is over, when peace has been restored, the people are going to demand more of their leaders than they did in the past. It’s obvious. There will scarcely be a family in the land who has not lost a son in the fighting. Don’t you think they will seek some recompense for their losses?’