Danielle Steel: Granny Dan

He left, as planned, that night, and returned to St. Petersburg three days before Danina was to sail. She was watching a class with Madame Mar-kova when he arrived, and one of the students came in on silent feet to find her. Danina looked up instinctively and saw Nikolai watching her from the doorway. She knew then that the goodbyes she dreaded were about to begin, and that it was time for her to leave. And she felt Madame Markova stiffen as she sat beside her. Danina looked at her for a long moment, and then walked slowly to him, with no trace of her limp. Her bags were packed, in the room where she slept, and she was ready. And as she put away the last of her things, while he waited in the hall, Madame Markova came to join her, and stood looking down at her valises. Everything Danina owned had fitted easily into two old battered cases, and as she stood to look at her mentor, neither of them spoke for a long moment. Danina did not trust herself to speak, and the woman who had been like a mother to her for fifteen years looked stricken.

“I thought this day would never come,” the older woman said in a voice that quavered. “And I never thought I would let you go, if it ever happened…. Now I am happy for you. I want you to be well and happy, Danina. You must leave here.”

“I will miss you so,” Danina said, taking two long strides to her, and putting her arms around her. “I will come back to see you.” But in her heart, Madame Markova knew she wouldn't. She could not believe, as she looked at the child she loved, a woman now, that she would ever come back here. And she knew to the very depths of her soul that this was their final moment.

“You must never forget all you have learned here, what it meant to you, who you were when you were here … and who you always will be. In your heart, Danina, take it all with you. You cannot leave this behind you. It is part of you now.”

“I don't want to leave you,” Danina said, sounding anguished.

“You must. He will come to you when he can, in America, and you will have a good life with him. I believe that. I wish it for you.”

“I wish I could take you with me,” Danina whispered, clinging to her, wanting to stay forever.

“You will take me with you … and a part of you will always be here with me. Here.” She pointed to her heart with a graceful finger. “It is time now, Danina,” she said, pulling away from her, and picking up one of the valises, as Danina took the other, and followed her slowly from the room into the hallway where Nikolai waited. He could see instantly how difficult the moment was for them, and went to relieve them both of the valises.

“Are you ready?” he asked Danina gently, as she nodded, and walked to the front door, as Madame Markova followed slowly, watching her, savoring each final second.

And just as they reached it, the front door opened, and a child walked through it. She was eight or nine, and she was carrying a suitcase, as her mother stood proudly beside her. She was a pretty child with straight blond braids, and she looked expectantly at Danina.

“Are you a dancer?” she asked boldly.

“I was. I'm not anymore.” It cost Danina a great deal to say it, as Nikolai and Madame Markova watched her.

“I'm going to be a ballerina, and I'm going to live here forever,” the child said with a smile.

Danina nodded, remembering the day she had come. But she had been so much more frightened than this child, so much less sure, and also considerably younger. But she had had no mother to accompany her.

“I think you'll be very happy here,” Danina said, smiling at her through her tears, as Madame Mark ova watched her. “You have to work very, very hard. All the time. Every day. You have to love it more than anything else in the whole world, and be willing to give up all the things you love to do, and want, and have and think … this has to be your whole life now.” How did you explain that to a nine-year-old? How did you make them want it more than anything else in life? How did you teach them to sacrifice and give until they nearly died? Or did you even teach it? Did they have to be born to it? Danina didn't have the answer. She simply touched the child's head as she walked past, and looked up at Madame Markova with tears in her eyes. She knew even less how to say good-bye, after the years of sacrifice, the years of giving and loving. How did you give it all back when it was over? But for her, it was the end of the story. The dance was over. For this child, it was just beginning.

“Take good care of her,” Madame Markova said softly to Nikolai, as the child and her mother walked past them. And then with a last touch of Danina's hand, Madame Markova turned and walked solemnly away, so they wouldn't see her cry. Danina stood and watched her for a long moment, and then walked slowly out the door for the last time, one foot after the other, until she stood outside, like everyone else in the world. She was no longer part of the ballet, she no longer belonged there, and never would again. This was the moment she had dreaded all her life, and it had come now. She was no longer part of their world, she was leaving them forever. There was no changing that, no turning back, as the door closed silently behind her.

Chapter 10

They spent their last day in St. Petersburg walking the streets, going to places they had both been fond of. It was a litany of memory and torment, and suddenly Danina could no longer remember why she was going. They both loved it here so much, why would they want to leave? But they could not delude themselves anymore. It was dangerous here. Their time in Russia was over. There was no way they could ever have had a life here. Even less so now, with the Revolution in full progress. But without it, Marie would have stayed, and held on to him. Danina would have had nowhere to go without the ballet. They had to go thousands of miles away, to a new world, to have a life together. And they both knew it was worth it. It was just excruciatingly painful leaving. But in another day, she'd be on the ship, in a month he would come too, and they could begin their life together. In some ways, it seemed like a great adventure. But she was still desperately sad to leave him in Russia.

For the moment, they were staying at a hotel, under his name, and on their way back, they bought a newspaper, and read with dismay of the war news. And all of it was distressing. It was impossible to ignore.

They had dinner in their room that night, clinging to each other for the last moments they could share, wanting to be alone for their final hours. They had so much to say to each other, so much to dream of, and promise. The days and nights they shared went all too quickly. They barely slept those last three days, not wanting to miss an instant with each other. Her bags were all packed, her few treasures and souvenirs ready to go with her. And he was sending two bags of his with her too, as though to prove to her that he was coming later. She was even bringing the gowns the Czarina had given her, although she knew they were part of the past now, as it all was.

Danina wondered at times how they would ever explain to their children, if they had any, what their lives had been. It would all seem like fairy tales to them, as it did to her now. Perhaps all one could do, in the end, was forget it, put the souvenirs away, the programs from the ballet, the photographs, the gowns, the toe shoes, and dust them off now and then to look at them. Or perhaps even that would be too painful. She knew that when they left St. Petersburg she would have to close the door on the past forever.

They went to bed early the last night, and lay in each other's arms all night, barely sleeping. But the sun rose all too quickly, and they left their bed for the last time with a look of sorrow. Danina was already anticipating the loneliness of his absence.