Tanya by Marianne Malthouse - HTML preview

Chapter 20

Tanya opened the window and breathed in the fresh country air. She could hear the servants bustling about below and knew it must be time for Nicholas to be up and about. She looked towards the bed where Ivan was still sleeping, and as always, her heart swelled with love.

They had been together here at the Dostoyevskiy estates, just outside Moscow for three months now. The peace and quiet, the constant companionship with her husband had been perfect bliss for Tanya, but she knew that Ivan was getting impatient, with himself mostly, for being unable to master being blind. Oh, he tried, he tried so hard. He could find his way about alone now, with the aid of a stick and could manage quite a lot of things without help, being almost fiercely independent. He had been told by the Tsar’s physician that his blindness was not uncommon amongst prisoners who had been left in darkness and starved for long periods of time. Some got their sight back, some did not. Only time would tell.

He had attacked his problems with his customary vigour, and Tanya’s heart had gone out to him when she saw how hard he tried to hide from her that he was not happy, but she knew him too well. He had always been such an active man, leading a full and adventurous life, masterful and full of self-confidence. It must be purgatory for such a man, living helplessly, dependent on others for so much. The last two weeks he had taken to going out for long walks alone, and although she worried until he returned, she refused to let anyone go with him unless he asked for company. He still had so much pride; she knew he must be suffering so much.

With a sigh, Tanya slipped along the corridor to the nursery. Nicholas was there, bouncing up and down in his cot, kicking his chubby little legs, and smiling at her. He was crawling now, a strong, healthy child who showed no sign of the terrible circumstances of his birth. He looked so much like Ivan that her heart turned over in her breast every time she looked at him. He had her hair, the tawny curls clustered on top of his head, but Ivan’s grey eyes looked imperiously out at the world, and he was definitely his father’s child. He was a happy baby, always laughing and affectionate. The whole household worshipped him, and spoiled him dreadfully.

Tanya lifted him out of his cot and played with him for a while until his nurse came to give him his breakfast; then she handed him over and returned to her room. Ivan was awake now and smiled at her as she entered, humming under her breath.

‘Hello, my sweet. Have you brought Nicholas in to say good morning?’

‘No, he’s having his breakfast,’ answered Tanya, giving him a kiss. ‘I thought you might still be asleep.’

‘No, no.’ He forced some cheerfulness into his voice. ‘What have we got planned for today?’

‘I know Peterkin wishes to see you about a lot of dreary old business,’ said Tanya with a laugh. ‘Otherwise, the day is ours.’

‘Yes, the day is ours.’ He sighed and held out his arms. ‘Come here.’

She went gladly, and another hour passed before they went downstairs for breakfast. Ivan disappeared with Peterkin into the study, and Tanya spent some time in the nursery with Nicholas. When she went downstairs at midday, she found Peterkin coming to look for her.

‘Ivan has gone out,’ he told her worriedly. ‘He seems depressed this morning and suddenly said he was going for a walk. I thought I had better tell you.’

Tanya nodded. It was the first time he had gone out without telling her, and she felt a little hurt but pushed the feeling away, not wanting to be too possessive. She busied herself about the house, but when two hours had passed, she could bear it no longer and had her horse saddled.

She rode out in the direction he usually walked, her eyes straining for sight of him. It was a beautiful autumn day, but the bright sunshine seemed to mock her somehow. She rode around for an hour, but there was still no sign of Ivan. Beginning to feel really worried now she returned to the house, hoping he would already be there, but when she arrived, he had not been seen.

She shook her head at Peterkin’s and Yvette’s insistence that a search party should set out, for she knew instinctively how Ivan would hate it if he should be found and brought back like an erring child. She rode off again in the opposite direction to that which she had taken before. She was only about five minutes ride from the house when she saw a figure in the distance. She recognised Ivan with a surge of relief and quickly dismounted from her horse, tying it to a tree. She began to walk towards him, then saw with concern that he was filthy and had lost his stick. Obviously he had been wandering about quite lost. She cursed herself and quickened her pace, then stopped suddenly, unable to believe her eyes. Ivan was waving to her – he was waving! She stood there, hope rising up in her; then he began to run towards her. With a glad cry, she broke into a stumbling run herself, and then she was in his arms.

Cupping his face in her hands, she stared up at him questioningly, tears brimming over and running down her cheeks.

‘Don’t cry, Tanya, don’t cry,’ he said, then with a cry of sheer joy, lifted her off her feet, up against his chest, and stared hungrily into her face. ‘Do you know,’ he said softly. ‘You are even more lovely than the last time I saw you?’

Then the tears came in earnest as she sobbed out her joy and relief against his chest. At last, when she was able to speak, she raised her face to his.

‘How . . . when?’ she asked.

‘I still can’t believe it myself,’ he said. ‘I was so depressed this morning, I didn’t want to take the usual walk, so I thought I’d go a different way. I walked and walked, for how long I have no idea. All I know is, one minute I was walking along, then the next, there was nothing under my feet, and I was falling down a steep slope. I rolled most of the way to the bottom, and must have knocked myself out. When I came to, I had a pain in my head but managed to struggle to my feet. I looked up, and I could see something that looked like a pale disc in front of my eyes. Even as I looked, it began to grow brighter until it hurt my eyes, then I realised it was the sun. After that, it was like a mist clearing. Oh, Tanya, already I can see nearly as well as I could before.’

Tanya was laughing and crying at the same time, shaking her head and looking lovingly up into his face. He swung her up into his arms and began to run towards the horse. Tanya could feel all the old strength and vigour flowing through him, and for just one moment, the thought flashed into her mind that now he was fully recovered, she would lose him, that soon he would go back to the world of men, and she would have to share him again. But even as the thought came she banished it, for she would have it no other way. This was the Ivan she had fallen in love with so long ago – would she want him any different? No!

He swung her up on to the horse and mounted behind her. Soon they were galloping up to the house, and Yvette and Peterkin were standing at the door, wide-eyed at the sight. Ivan leapt down, lifted Tanya into his arms, and ran to the door.

‘Where is my son?’ he shouted in loud, joyous tones. ‘Where is my son? I want to see my son.’

At that, both Yvette and Peterkin rushed up to him, and he hugged them both, then he was running up to the nursery, taking the stairs two at a time. Tanya stayed with the others, thinking that he would perhaps like to be alone to see his son for the first time. Five minutes later, he was back, carrying an ecstatic Nicholas who was laughing at the top of his voice at being tickled and thrown up in the air.

‘Well?’ Tanya looked at these two that she loved more than life, and they both smiled back at her.

‘I think,’ said Ivan quietly ‘that he is almost, though not quite, as beautiful as his mother.’

Time slipped by rapidly after that day. When Tsar Peter heard that Ivan’s sight had returned, he sent his congratulations, then instructions started to come, and eventually, the order for him to return to Moscow. Tanya felt a little sad that these halcyon days must now come to an end, but she could see that Ivan was chafing at the life he led, and she gave in gracefully, without a word of complaint.

As winter began to set in, she thought that perhaps it would be good to be back in the city, for it was bleak out here when the snows came. She even began to look forward to replenishing her wardrobe and seeing again all the old friends she had not seen for so long. Perhaps she was not so suited to the quiet life herself after all, she thought wryly.

So the household began to pack up, and the coaches were filled with luggage and sent on ahead to Moscow; then Nicholas and his nurses, together with Peterkin and Yvette, left. Ivan and Tanya had decided to wait until the next day, so they could have one last day together here before they left.

They spent the day riding around the estates and wandering hand in hand round the old house where they had known such sadness and such joy. Their last evening they spent together in front of the fire, talking and making love.

As Ivan held her in his arms, her splendid body urgent against his own, her eyes brimming with love, he too felt a fear that never again would they be this happy, and he held her closer still, until all thoughts but of each other were banished.

Through a strange, last-minute reluctance to leave, it was midmorning when they finally set off on their journey. Neither spoke very much, each content to have the other near. The early winter dusk was falling when the horses finally pulled the heavy coach up the hill that led to Moscow. Suddenly, Ivan opened the hatch and ordered the coachman to stop. Wrapping Tanya up tenderly in her cloak, he took her hand and led her to the top of the hill. The wind was cold, promising the snow that would soon follow, and it whipped Tanya’s hair about her face, but she hardly noticed. They stood in silence, looking down at the city spread out before them, and bathed in the last faint rays of the setting sun.

It looked so quiet and peaceful, although Tanya knew that down there people were living and loving, struggling, fighting and dying. She looked towards the grim walls of the Kremlin and remembered another who had died because he had thirsted for power. And in one of those streets, Nicholas had died, trying to protect her. Now she was returning to take part once more in the life of the city. For a moment, she felt the cold shadow of fear pass over her; then the man at her side put his arm around her shoulders and drew her close, and she remembered that her son also was down there, and that to be together with these two whom she loved so much was all that really mattered. Life, she thought, would not always be smooth, and they might again know the danger and suffering that living in this strange, uncivilised country meant to so many – who knows what the future might bring? She only knew that although they might be parted again, nothing would ever really come between them – not distance, not even death. Their love would go on when all this was dust.

Tanya laid her head against Ivan’s shoulder and a great happiness flooded through her. Even as she looked, the spires and roofs of Moscow shimmered and almost disappeared as the tears of thankfulness blurred her eyes; then all her doubts vanished, and she knew that no matter where the man at her side might take her, as long as she was with him, she would be where she belonged.