Gwendoline Butler - The Red Staircase

‘Yes, I see you don’t believe me, Ivan,’ I said. ‘But I assure you many houses in Scotland and England have them. People shout down to the kitchen for what they want.’

‘No one ever shouts down them in this house,’ he said gloomily. ‘But sometimes the servants down below whistle up them.’

‘Why do they do that?’

‘To raise the devil, I believe,’ said Ivan, even more gloomily.

‘And does he appear?’

‘Don’t ask me,’ said Ivan, crossing himself again.

‘Oh well, I won’t. But what is it you wanted?’

He bowed. ‘I am to conduct you up the Red Staircase to the Princess Irene.’

When I had least expected it, the summons had come. How convenient, I remember thinking innocently, that I should be free and Ariadne out with her mother.

The staircase to what I had begun to call the Red Tower seemed stuffier, the air more scented and dead than ever, and the Princess’s room, when I got there, was full of cigarette smoke. It was over-hot, too, as before, and artificially lit, although it was full daylight outside. I was taking in the details more fully on this second visit. I saw now that not only was the room full of furniture, but that every piece was covered with objects; several low tables bore burdens of silver-framed photographs, flowering plants (there were always so many flowers in Russia), enamelled boxes and porcelain figures. Even at a glance I could see that many of the objects were valuable, for instance an intricately-worked egg of silver and tortoiseshell on a stand of lapis lazuli; but others, like a papier mâché bowl of hideous red and a paper fan with a nasty bead handle, were rubbish. As I looked round I realised that the clutter and muddle reminded me of something. Then I saw what it was: our old nursery at Jordansjoy. This was a playroom for an old child.

Princess Irene was sitting up in her bed, wearing a brocade and fur jacket and a little matching turban, and smoking a small black cigarette. At my appearance she held out a regal hand. ‘Ah, so there you are. Gratified you came so promptly, most gratified.’ She didn’t sound it, more as if she had taken my appearance for granted.

‘Oh, I wanted to,’ I said honestly. ‘And fortunately Ariadne is out with her mother, so I was free.’

‘Naturally, I know where my niece is.’ She had a bed-table in front of her on which she was laying out a pack of cards in some elaborate-looking game. ‘She has gone to her dressmaker and taken her daughter with her. Peter has gone too, and much may he enjoy it. Dolly choosing a dress is a penance I would not wish on any man.’ She turned over a card. ‘Ah, the Queen, a good sign.’ She puffed at her cigarette. ‘Not that I believe the cards can really tell the future, at my age it is a little difficult to take that ; but – ’ and here she gave an elegant shrug – ‘a little wink from the Fates is very acceptable.’

She gave a cough, a deep rolling cough that shook her whole body and left her gasping. Another wink from the Fates, I thought, and not such an agreeable one. The cigarette rolled from her fingers; I picked it up and put it on a silver saucer, which was half full of the cigarettes she had smoked already.

‘And have you told my niece that you have visited me here?’ Her dark eyes gave me a sharp look.

‘I think you know the answer to that question,’ I said slowly. ‘You who know everything that goes on in this house. No, I have not.’

‘Good. Good. Of course, she will discover and perhaps be quite cross. She has a temper, you know.’ Another sharp look here.

‘I can imagine.’

‘Not that it matters. I rather like to annoy Dolly.’ She gave a deep chuckle. ‘And it improves her complexion. She’s rather sallow, isn’t she? Don’t you find her sallow?’

Bemused and fascinated, I did not answer. It was true that by comparison with the vivid red mantling of Princess Irene’s cheeks, Dolly was lacking in colour.

‘You don’t answer. Very wise. I like a girl who knows when to keep a still tongue in her head. It’s a sign of good breeding.’

She was a wicked old thing and needed to be taken down a peg or two, I thought. ‘I wouldn’t speak about my employer, in any case,’ I said. ‘It’s good sense as much as good breeding.’

‘Dolly’s not your employer. I am. Aha, that startled you, didn’t it?’ And she leaned back on her pillows in triumph, only to burst out into one of those deep coughs again, so that I had to lean forward and retrieve another cigarette.

So the money that supported this luxurious household was hers? I was surprised, but I could accept it as the truth. ‘Perhaps you pay my salary,’ I began hesitantly. ‘But it is to be with Ariadne that I am here.’ And Shereshevo, I thought.

‘Pay you, do I?’ She gave me an amused look. ‘No, Dolly is rich enough to pay for anything she chooses to indulge herself with. No, but it was on my instructions she sent for you. And not for Ariadne. Nor any dirty peasants, either.’

‘On your instructions?’ I echoed. Yes, I could see her issuing her orders to Dolly Denisov. What I couldn’t see was Dolly accepting them.

‘And Dolly was pleased to oblige me. She likes to forget I am here, but once reminded, she knows better than to be too difficult.’ The diamonds on her fingers flashed as she moved the cards again. ‘I knew all about you. Your old cousin, Miss Gowrie, visits Dolly regularly. She’s full of gossip, which filters through to me. So I told Dolly to get you.’ The diamonds flashed again. ‘She took her time, she likes to tease me a bit, but you came at last. To me. She was pleased to do as I asked in the end. And she had her own motives, also, one does not doubt. And perhaps another voice than mine was added.’ Again came that malicious look. She means Peter, I thought. Peter wanted me.

‘But I came here to be with Ariadne, and to train the peasant women at Madame Denisov’s country estate, to help them look after their own health and that of their children. Madame Denisov invited me. Her letters were quite specific.’ I could be sharp too, when required.

‘So Dolly thinks. Or perhaps just pretends to think.’ The Princess flashed me a smile as bright as her diamonds. ‘But the fact is that you came here for me, whatever Dolly thinks, and I mean to have first claim on you.’

‘I don’t understand.’ But I did. Reluctantly, I did begin to understand a little. I had not forgotten how that dry, cold hand had warmed itself in mine. She wanted help from me. Why me? I was not sure. There must be plenty of nurses in Russia. But perhaps she wanted that little extra I might have. Everyone seemed to be tugging at me in this house.

‘I persuaded Dolly. I told her what a splendid companion you would be for Ariadne. She agreed, she was very willing. Dolly does not need my money, but she would like my emeralds when I die.’ She paused, then said grimly: ‘She will have a long wait. I don’t intend to die.’ Her ancient hand, loaded with jewels whose antique cut made them look older than she was herself, took my own. ‘I do not want to die, and with your help I will not.’

Now that her face was so close, I could see the seams and cracks into which her fine, old skin had crumbled; the rouge and powder accentuated rather than dimmed the damage the years had done. She was wearing a thick, heavy, musky scent that was like the smell of another century.

I withdrew my hand and stepped backwards from the bed. ‘No one can stop death. Not when it’s ready to come. Certainly not I.’

A spark of humour showed in those black eyes. ‘But one can procrastinate. Do you know how old I am? In one month I shall be ninety years old; I have procrastinated thus far, so why should I not postpone death for another ten years and for ten after that?’