Danielle Steel - Granny Dan

“You have literally worked her to death, Madame,” he said in barely controlled fury, “and you will answer to me if she dies, and to the Czar,” he added for good measure. And as Danina listened to him speak, she realized that he was real, and this time she wasn't dreaming. It really was Nikolai.

“Nikolai?” she said weakly, as he took her hand in his again, and whispered as he bent close to her.

“Don't talk, my love, try to rest. I'm here now.” He was standing next to her and they were talking about hospitals and an ambulance, and she was trying to tell him that she didn't need one. It all seemed like too much trouble. She just wanted to lie in her bed and die, with Nikolai there near her, holding her hand.

He sent everyone away, and examined her quietly, remembering the graceful body with longing. He hadn't been with her for two months now, and nothing had changed. He was as much in love with her as ever, but for the moment the ballet still owned her, as Marie did him. He was beginning to wonder, as was Danina, if they'd ever be together, or if it would always be this way.

“What has been happening to you? Can you tell me, Danina?”

“I don't know … sick all the time …” she mumbled, drifting off to sleep as she talked to him, and then waking again, feeling desperately ill and retching. But her stomach was long since empty. She was beyond bile now. All she had were the dry heaves, as she had had for days. It was easier not to eat or drink at all, so she wouldn't be vomiting every moment. And she was still dancing sixteen hours a day, forcing herself to go on, until she could do no more.

“Danina, talk to me,” he insisted, waking her again. He was beginning to worry that she was going to slip into a coma, from starvation, dehydration, and sheer exhaustion. They were working her to death, literally, and her body seemed to be giving up from the constant pressure, and lack of anything to sustain it. “What are you feeling? How long have you been this way?” He was growing frantic, and they were still waiting to hear if he wanted to take her to the hospital or needed an ambulance. He still wasn't sure, but he was growing more frightened by the way she looked.

“How long have you felt this way?” he asked again. She hadn't been this bad when he last saw her, although she hadn't looked well, and she had admitted to him even then that she hadn't been feeling well lately.

“A month … two months …” she said, sounding groggy.

“Have you been vomiting for that long?” He looked horrified. How long had it been since she'd had proper nourishment? And how long could she survive it? He thanked God that Madame Markova had finally called him. In the end, she was afraid not to, given Danina's indirect connection to the Czar. Besides, despite her rage at her for the past year, in truth, Madame Markova loved her, and even she was terrified by what she saw. “Danina … talk to me…. When did this start? Exactly. Try and remember.” Nikolai pressed her, as Danina opened her eyes, and tried to remember how long she had been ill. It seemed like forever to her.

“January. When I came back from Christmas vacation.” It was nearly two months now. But all she wanted to do was sleep, and she wanted him to stop talking to her.

“Do you have pain anywhere?” He was gently feeling all over her body, but she complained of nothing. She was just desperately weak, and malnourished. She had been literally starving. He thought of her appendix, but there was no sign of infection to show for it, or a bleeding ulcer, but she insisted she had not been vomiting blood or anything dark and ominous, when he asked her. There were no symptoms except that she had vomited endlessly and was now barely conscious, and too weak to move. He didn't even dare take her to the hospital until he knew more about it. He didn't think she had either tuberculosis or typhoid, although the former was not impossible, in which case she would already be in the final stages. But he didn't think so.

He listened to her lungs, her heart. Her pulse was weak, but he could not understand what he was seeing. And then he asked her a question he knew she would think indelicate, but he was not only her lover, he was a doctor, and he needed to know. But her answer to that did not surprise him either. Her system was so entirely depleted, and she danced so much, so long, and so hard, it was not unusual to have a cessation of all female functions, and then suddenly he thought of something else. They had always been careful … always … except after Christmas. Only once. Or twice.

He looked her over carefully again, and then he knew with a sinking heart, and with a gentle hand he felt low on her abdomen and touched a small, barely palpable lump, but it was just big enough to tell him what he hadn't even suspected. She was almost certainly two months pregnant, and she had so brutalized herself, and been so ill, and worked so hard, that she might well have died from it. And if she was pregnant, in the condition she was in, it was a miracle she hadn't lost the baby.

“Danina,” he whispered to her when she woke up again, and looked at him questioningly, “I think you're pregnant.” He said it so softly that he knew no one would hear him, but her eyes widened instantly in surprise. She had thought of it once or twice and then dismissed it from her mind entirely. It could not be. She could not let herself think of it. But as he said it, she knew it, and closed her eyes again, as a tear trickled from the corner of her eyes.

“What will we do now?” she whispered back, looking at him in despair. This truly would destroy both their lives, and Marie would never release him, if only out of vengeance.

“You must come back with me. You can live in the cottage until you're feeling stronger.” But it was only a temporary solution, and they both knew it. They had far bigger problems now.

“And then what?” Danina said sadly. “I cannot go to live with you … you can't marry me … the Czar will take your position away … we can't afford a house yet … and I can't dance for much longer if you're right.” But she knew he was. Some girls had danced for as long as they could, and they were always found out after a month or two, and banished. Some lost their babies from the long hours and grueling rehearsals. She knew that. There was no easy answer for her now.

“We'll work it out together,” he said, desperately worried about her. He couldn't even give her a place to live, let alone a place to bring their baby. But he couldn't think of anything sweeter than a child born of their love. Yet there seemed to be no place and no way to have it. And how would they support it once she stopped dancing? Their savings were pitifully small, and she earned more praise than money. And Marie and the boys used every penny he made. “We'll think of something,” he said gently. But she only shook her head and cried softly as he held her. She seemed overwhelmed with despair. “Let me take you back with me,” he said, looking anxious. “No one need know why you're ill. We have to talk about it.” But she knew better than anyone that there was nothing to talk about and nothing to hope for. All their dreams were still far in the future, with no way to attain them.

“I have to stay here,” she said, and the thought of going anywhere made her feel even sicker. This time she could not go with him. But he hated to leave her, especially knowing what he did now.

He stayed with her until late that night, and told Madame Markova he feared a serious ulcer, and he said that he thought that she should return to the cottage at the palace until she was better. But it was Danina who fought him, and told Madame Markova that she didn't want to leave, she felt too ill, and she could get well here just as quickly as at the cottage, which wasn't true, they all knew. But Madame Markova was pleased that she didn't want to go with him. She thought it a hopeful sign that the affair with Nikolai might be ending. It was the first time Danina had resisted anything he said.