Carol Birch - Orphans of the Carnival

‘From Meshchanskaia,’ she said, as if that would mean anything to him. ‘Careful sir, don’t spill your wine.’

‘Ah,’ he said, ‘where the peasant tongue holds supreme sway. Julia, I think it worked.’

‘What did?’

‘The common accent. They loved it.’

‘Will there be anything else?’ Polina asked.

‘Don’t think so.’ Chuckling, he took a swig. A long strand of hair had come adrift and slanted across his left eye. ‘That’s all’

‘What I do like about snow,’ Julia said to Polina, ‘is being warm inside watching it fall. The fire’s magnificent. Theo, please don’t block the heat.’

He jumped aside. ‘At once, my lady!’ When is that girl going? His head was about to burst. Go on, you silly girl, get out. Thank you.

‘Can you believe what we have achieved?’ Wide-eyed, he walked about in his new dressing gown, which was exactly the same colour as his wine. ‘There’s no limit.’

‘She reminds me of me.’

‘Who? Polina?’

‘She reminds me of me when I was at home.’ Julia yawned. My God! The mess of teeth!

‘Do you still think of it as home?’ he said, a little sadly.

She had to think about that. ‘I don’t know,’ she said finally. ‘Home is with you.’ Her eyes closed. ‘I’m asleep,’ she said, smiling.

All of a sudden he felt weepy. Not like him. My diamond mine, my fortune, my millstone, he thought, still amazed at what he’d done. Look at her. He could go out. Send her off to bed, go where no one knows him, a drink, a game of cards, a few discreet questions. He could find them, the girls in their small rooms. Girls who don’t know he’s married to a freak.

There was a tap on the door.

‘Oh let Tolya in,’ she said, ‘he cheers me up.’

‘Don’t I cheer you up?’

‘Of course you do,’ she said, sitting up, ‘but you’re here all the time. Come in, Tolya!’

‘Tea,’ said the boy, coming in with a tray. She even knows what his knock on the door sounds like, thought Theo, placing himself once more in front of the heat. The fire jumped when the door opened, and the wind howled. I’m not going out in that, he thought. But still, he knew he’d never be able to sleep, his mind was feverish.

‘They went wild , Tolya!’

‘Of course.’ He smiled his big-toothed smile, putting the tray down on the small table beside Julia. ‘I’ve been listening to them talk. Prince Rudakov wants to invite you to his party.’

‘Oh dear,’ she said, as if it wasn’t a huge honour, ‘I’m not sure I’ll enjoy that.’

‘Of course you will,’ Theo said. ‘It’ll be just what you need. I knew this kind of thing was going to happen. Didn’t I tell you? Whatsisname. Bartolomeo or whatever and his sister.’

‘Maximo and Bartola,’ she said. He was always going on about them.

‘They met royalty. Went to the White House, shook hands with the President. And they weren’t anywhere near as good as you, they were more akin to your little friend Cato.’

‘Cato,’ she said wistfully.

‘Anyway,’ said Theo, looking irritatedly at Tolya as he poured tea for Julia, with a delicate touch for such a clod of a thing, ‘are you quite sure you’re the person who should be telling us this?’

‘Sorry, sir,’ said Tolya, not sounding it at all. ‘Didn’t really think.’

If I was Volkov I’d never employ him, thought Theo, sprawling himself into a chair.

‘And my dance?’ Tolya said, ‘it went well?’

‘Oh Tolya, you should have been there! It was marvellous! You’d have been proud of me.’

‘I am proud of you.’

‘No really, really, the steps you taught me, they made the show. They were the highlight.’

‘Well, not quite,’ Theo said dryly.

The stupid boy laughed. ‘Miss Julia,’ he said, ‘you are so nice a person.’

‘I’ll tell you something,’ she said, ‘you’re easily as good as those other two, those dancers. You should have been up there on that stage with me.’

Tolya snorted. ‘Much better to dance with you here,’ he said. ‘I am very privileged.’

‘You most certainly are,’ said Theo.

‘Anything for you, sir?’ The boy straightened, turning with a polite smile. ‘Tea?’

‘I have my wine.’

‘Ah, but those boys, Tolya!’ said Julia, picking up her cup and warming her hands round it, ‘Oh, you should have seen them, the life in them.’

‘I suppose a dance like that,’ Theo said, ‘in a country like this, probably comes from the cold. You have to dance to keep warm.’

‘There may be something in that,’ Tolya said, beginning to withdraw.

‘Certainly damn freezing this place.’ Theo stretched his legs and put his slippered feet on the fender.

‘Yes,’ she said, ‘I miss the sun.’

‘Wait until spring,’ said Tolya.

Spring came suddenly, along with an invitation.

Prince Rudakov sent a carriage to bring them out to his country house for a weekend party, and Volkov rode with them. The sun was hot, everywhere was willows, a haze hung over the fields, rolling away into wooded distance. Now and again they passed a church or a wretched huddle of shabby huts and knocked-together barns, and sometimes carts drawn by bony horses, ragged people at the reins. At last the driver pointed with his whip to a red roof among the green slopes, and a few minutes later the house came into view, long and low, with many windows and a balcony running the length of the upstairs storey. A sloping lawn ran away at the front and tall trees closed in on three sides. Rudakov was there as soon as the carriage turned into the drive, waiting in a pale linen suit like an eager child about to get a present. ‘Enchanté, enchanté,’ he was saying before she’d even got out of the carriage, and Theo stood by, beaming like a proud father as the Prince fawned all over her.

‘The countryside is very beautiful,’ she said in Russian, something she’d learned specially.

The house was sumptuous inside. She unveiled in a small parlour. Rudakov had seen her before, of course, but there was his mother and sister, his wife, three stiff little boys on their best behaviour. And when they’d all stared their fill and exclaimed their delight, a servant showed them to their room. Julia started fretting about her dress, a flounced crinoline with tiny bows decorating each tier of the skirt and one great bow fanning out at the back, trailing long silver ribbons. It was too fancy, she said. The kind of thing for grand entrances and sweeping down wide curving staircases.

‘Nonsense,’ he said, wandering out onto the landing, standing a little dazedly looking over the balcony rail. A door in one corner opened and a tall young woman in a pale pink dress ran across the atrium with skirts raised. He caught a glimpse of a thin white ankle before she vanished through another door. Well now, he thought, craning a little over the rail. Maybe cop a dance with her later.

But when evening came, it wasn’t a dancing sort of a do, more of a grand soirée, with a piano only, and lots of formal introductions. Julia’s entrance was a showpiece. Prince Rudakov was waiting at the foot of the stairs as she tiptoed down on Theo’s arm, her dress like the great cup of a flower, lifting and settling as she moved. She’d been getting ready for hours and her hair was a flowery masterpiece. The Prince led her into the big parlour where ornate chairs were artfully arranged around small tables bearing dishes of Turkish Delight and bowls of pink and blue flowers. The guests stopped their twittering and turned as one to gaze.

‘My dear friends,’ Rudakov announced in a ringing voice, ‘I am delighted to introduce to you Madame Julia, the great artiste.’