Danielle Steel: Granny Dan

“She is even better in Swan Lake , and Sleeping Beauty,” she said with a sad smile.

“I will look forward to it,” he said politely, bowed, and then left as she closed the heavy door behind him, and walked quickly through the halls to return to Danina.

It was an unforgettable night for Madame Markova, of sorrow and despair, and also fever, delirium, and terror for Danina. And finally, by morning, Danina seemed almost to have left them. Madame Markova was sitting at her bedside, looking lifeless herself, exhausted, but not daring to leave her even for an instant, when the doctor returned at five the next morning.

“Thank you for coming so early,” she whispered in the dismal room. The atmosphere was already one of loss and mourning. It seemed, even to her, impossible to win the fight now. Danina had not regained consciousness since the previous morning.

“I was worried about her all night,” the doctor admitted, looking troubled. He could see from the older woman's face how the night had gone, and Danina was barely breathing. He checked her pulse and took her temperature, and was surprised to find her temperature a little lower, but her pulse was thin and thready. “She is putting up a good fight. We're lucky she is young and strong.” But even the young had been dying in shocking numbers in Moscow, particularly children. “Has she taken any water?”

“Not in several hours,” Madame Markova admitted. “I can't seem to get her to swallow, and I was afraid to choke her.” He nodded. There was truly nothing they could do now, but he had arranged to stay for several hours. His senior colleague, Dr. Botkin, had improved sufficiently to be able to attend to the Czarevitch if he had to. Dr. Obrajensky wanted to be with Danina if she died, if only to offer comfort to her mentor.

They sat quietly side by side for hours, on hard chairs in the barren room, speaking little, and checking her from time to time. He suggested that Madame Markova try and get some rest while he was there, but she refused to leave her beloved ballerina.

It was noon when Danina finally made an anguished sound, and stirred uncomfortably. She sounded as though she was in pain, but as the doctor checked her again, he found nothing new or different in her condition. He could only marvel that she had hung on this long. It was a real tribute to her youth, her strength, and her physical condition. And remarkably, thus far, no one else in the ballet had caught it. Only Danina.

At four o'clock that afternoon, Dr. Obrajensky was still there, not wanting to abandon them before the end. Madame Markova had dozed off in her chair, and the doctor saw Danina become restless. She was moaning again, and stirring uncomfortably, but Madame Markova was too exhausted to hear her. The doctor examined her, and found her heart weak and irregular when he checked her. He was sure it was a sign that the end was near. Her pulse was rough as well, and she began having trouble breathing, all signs that he had been expecting. He would have liked to ease the end for her, but there was nothing he could do, except be there. He took her hand in his own, after taking her pulse again, and just stroked it gently, watching her, seeing the lovely young face so ill and so tormented. It hurt him to see it, and to be of so little use to her. It was like wrestling with demons, trying to win her. He wanted to will her back to life, to health. And he gently touched her forehead with his hand. She stirred again and said something. She sounded as though she were saying something to a friend, or one of her brothers. And then she said a single word and opened her eyes and looked at him. He had seen it a hundred times, it was a last surge of life before the end. Her eyes were wide open then, as she spoke clearly and said, “Mama, I see you.”

“It's all right, Danina, I'm here,” he said soothingly. “Everything is going to be all right now.” Very soon, it would be over.

“Who are you?” she said in a hoarse, ragged voice, as though she could see him clearly, but he knew she couldn't. She was seeing someone in her delirium, but it was unlikely it was the doctor she was seeing.

“I'm your doctor,” he said quietly. “I came here to help you.”

“Oh,” she said, and closed her eyes again, laying her head back against the pillow. “I'm going to see my mother.” He remembered then what Madame Markova had said about her only having a father and brothers, and he understood what she meant, but he wouldn't let her continue.

“I don't want you to do that,” he said firmly. “I want you to stay here with me. We need you, Danina.”

“No, I must go …” she said with her eyes closed, turning her head away from him. “I'll be late for class, and Madame Markova will be angry at me.” It was the most she had said in two days, and it was clear that she wanted to leave them, or knew she had to.

“You must stay for class here, Danina … or Madame Markova and I will both be very angry. Open your eyes, Danina … open your eyes and see me.” And much to his surprise, she did, and looked right at him with enormous eyes in the small, pale face that seemed to have shrunk with the fever.

“Who are you?” she said again, this time in a voice that sounded as ravaged as she felt, as damaged as she had been, and this time he knew she could see him. He touched her forehead gently, and for the first time in two days, it was markedly cooler.

“I am Nikolai Obrajensky, mademoiselle. I am your doctor. The Czarina sent me.”

She nodded then and closed her eyes again for a moment, and then opened them again to say something to him in a whisper. “I saw you with Alexei last summer … in Livadia….” She remembered. She had returned. She still had a long way to go, but incredible as it seemed, perhaps finally the spell had been broken. He wanted to shout with excitement, but he didn't want to celebrate too soon. It could still be the burst of energy before the end. He did not yet trust what he was seeing.

“I will teach you how to swim this summer if you stay here,” he teased gently, remembering the fun they'd all had when Alexei tried to teach her. She almost smiled, but she still felt far too ill to be able to do more than look at him weakly.

“I have to dance,” she said, sounding worried. “I don't have time to swim. …”

“Yes, you do. You are going to have to rest for a while now.” She opened her eyes wide as he said it, and he felt encouraged again. She was entirely cognizant of what he was saying.

“I have to go to class tomorrow.”

“I think you should go this afternoon,” he teased her, and this time she smiled, though it was barely more than a rictus. “You're being very lazy.” He was smiling at her now, feeling as though he had won the battle of a lifetime. He had had no hope at all for this one. An hour before, she had been all but gone, and now she was awake and talking to him.

“I think you're being very silly,” she whispered. “I can't go to class today.”

“Why not?”

“No legs,” she said, looking worried. “Fell off, I think, can't feel them.” He looked worried then, and reached under the covers to touch her legs, and he asked her what she felt when he touched her. She felt everything, she was just too weak to move them.

“You're just weak, Danina,” he reassured her. “You are going to be fine now.” But he also knew that if in fact she did survive, and it looked at least remotely possible, though she was not yet out of the woods completely, her recovery would take months, and she would have to be carefully and expertly nursed, if she was to recover completely. “You're going to have to be very good, and sleep a great deal, and eat and drink,” and as though to prove it to her, he offered her a sip of water, and this time she took it. She only took one sip, but it was a vast improvement. And as he set the glass down on the table next to her, Madame Markova woke with a start, afraid that something terrible had happened while she was sleeping. But instead, she saw Danina looking weak but alive again, smiling wanly up at the doctor.