Chapter 3
Tanya walked and walked, wanting to put as much distance between herself and the cave as possible. Soon her feet were throbbing, and she was feeling very tired. As it was now quite dark, she decided to sleep where she was. It was quite mild during the day, but at night, the wind was chilly, and she shivered as she ate a handful of berries, and she was glad to pull the warm fur around her tightly as she snuggled down to sleep.
Nothing having occurred to disturb her slumber, Tanya awoke soon after dawn, refreshed herself at the stream, then decided to follow its banks for a while to see where it would lead. After a frugal breakfast of black bread, washed down with spring water, she set off again. She walked for several hours, and eventually, the trees grew more scattered and thinned out. As she left the forest behind her, her spirits lifted unaccountably, and her weary step quickened a trifle. She started to hum under her breath and to skip a little. The sun was quite hot overhead, and the birds were singing. The heady, gay feeling lasted until the sun went down, then she realised just how tired and hungry she was. In the open, she felt somehow unprotected but shook these fears off impatiently. She was so hungry that she ate nearly all the remaining nuts and berries and finished off the loaf completely. She felt guilty when she looked at her diminished stock, but a full stomach made her able to face the night, and she was soon sleeping soundly.
The night again passed uneventfully, and she spent another day of weary plodding, forcing herself to put one foot in front of the other, and to keep moving. She occasionally passed a small farm or peasant’s cottage but gave these a wide berth, for she was very nervous of meeting anyone. That night she was lucky enough to find a ruined cottage to sleep in, for she was now feeling the cold, more through her lack of food than anything. She had eaten the last of her store at midday, and she spent a night of fitful sleep, for although she was bone weary, cold and hunger disturbed her rest.
She walked for two more days with practically nothing to eat, and having left the stream a way back because of its passing near a small village, she had added thirst to her other miseries. The end of the second day found her light-headed and at the end of her strength. It was growing dark as she staggered through a small copse, when her weary eyes fastened on the light shining through the trees ahead of her. Throwing caution to the winds, she summoned up her last ounce of strength and made it to the door. With hardly enough strength to knock, she lost consciousness and sank in a heap against the rough wood.
When she came to, she was lying on a crude bed made up on the huge stove, and an old, bent woman was bustling around the inevitable large cooking pot. A lump came into Tanya’s throat, and her eyes misted over, for the room reminded her to a great extent of her old home, although it was smaller and not nearly as clean. There seemed to be only the one room, and a pig and goat were snuffling in the far corner, rooting for food. The air was thick with the smell of cabbage and dung, and the smoke from the stove swirled around at intervals and made Tanya cough. At the sound, the old woman looked over her shoulder.
‘So you’re awake, are you?’ she asked rather brusquely. ‘I’ve some cabbage soup on, you’d better get some down, though we’ve little enough to feed ourselves these days.’
She spooned a portion of the soup into a wooden bowl and hobbled across to Tanya.
‘Well, don’t sit there gawping, girl, take it, before I change my mind!’
Tanya would have liked to tell the old woman to keep her soup, if she had so little, but her stomach said otherwise. She was quite ravenous and felt faint at the sight of the soup. She took the proffered bowl without a word and fell upon it with little heed of manners or anything else, scooping out the floating mess with her fingers and licking every drop until the bowl was clean. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and passed the woman the bowl.
‘Thank you,’ she managed to say and eyed the woman uncertainly, unable to make her out.
The crone came back to her side with a hunk of bread and a pitcher of a strong-smelling beverage. She held them out.
‘Here, drink this. It’s kvass, my son made it – it’s good, will give you strength.’ Her black eyes travelled over Tanya from head to toe, making her feel quite uncomfortable. The crone gave a sudden cackle of laughter, showing the stumps of several black and rotting teeth.
‘Aye, it’ll give you strength,’ she repeated. ‘Like or not, you’ll need it.’
Still chuckling under her breath, she shambled away and, sitting on a rough stool by the stove, began to croon to herself, rocking backwards and forwards.
Tanya eyed her nervously and devoured the bread. She took a sip of the mead, which she found rather unpleasant, very sour and strong, but she was so thirsty she drank every drop. It made her head swim a little, and she lay back again, keeping half an eye on the old hag.
After a while, the woman’s tuneless dirge began to get on her nerves, and she felt foolish saying nothing, so she sat up and swung her legs over the side of the stove.
‘Where is this place?’ she asked curiously. ‘And who are you? I suppose I should thank you for saving my life. I think I should have died had you not given me succour.’
At the sound of her well-modulated voice, the crone stopped her song abruptly and looked at Tanya sharply.
‘Quite the little madam, ain’t we?’ she sneered. ‘Where did you learn to speak in that la-di-da way? Here, there’s nobody out looking for you, is there? Did you get lost?’
‘No, no one,’ replied Tanya, then instantly regretted it. Something in the old woman’s look made her wish she had kept quiet.
‘All alone in the world, are you, dearie?’ asked the woman and gave her shrill laugh again.
‘No, I’m not, I’m on my way to relatives, they’ll be expecting me,’ Tanya lied, not quite sure why she should prevaricate.
‘Ah,’ nodded the old woman. ‘And you’re wandering all alone through wild country like this. Come now, dearie, you don’t expect old Anita to believe that, do you? I wasn’t born yesterday you know, not old Anita.’
At this she seemed to lose interest in Tanya, for she turned her shoulder and began to sing again, ignoring her presence entirely.
Tanya stepped down from the stove and looked around her for her cloak.
‘Well, thank you so much for the food.’ she said. ‘I will be on my way now and will cause you no further trouble.’
At this, Anita looked at her slyly out of the corner of her eye.
‘No need for that, dearie,’ she grinned, not moving from her seat. ‘It’s quite dark out, and the wolves are on the prowl tonight. Can’t you hear the wolves? Why don’t you stay for tonight, eh? You can leave in the morning.’
Feeling rather foolish, and certainly not relishing the thought of the wolves prowling about outside, Tanya thanked the woman a little stiffly, and, picking up her fur, returned to the stove and lay down. She was aching all over and had not realised how tired she was, for she fell asleep almost immediately.
How long she slept, Tanya was not sure, but it was still dark when she awoke, and she gave a nervous jump. Someone was standing over her, holding a candle high. The figure was quite huge and loomed over her in a manner that seemed to Tanya to be quite threatening. She gave a gasp and shrank back. The figure lowered the candle, and the light fell on his face. It was quite a young face that looked down at her, and although he had the stolid features of the peasant, his expression was kind, and he looked rather awestruck. Quite suddenly, he held something out to her.
‘I’ve brought you a present,’ he said abruptly and thrust something towards her. ‘Here, take it, it’s for you.’
Scarcely knowing what to say or do, Tanya automatically took the object the young man was offering her. He held the candle up higher, obviously expecting some reaction, so she peered uncertainly at the present. It was an embroidered scarf, rather grubby, and obviously second-hand. She felt oddly touched.
‘Why, thank you,’ she said in a low voice, thinking perhaps he was a little simple. ‘That was very kind of you, but really you didn’t have to give me anything.’
‘I wanted to,’ replied the man and grinned a little foolishly. ‘I’ve never seen anyone half as pretty as you, and I just wanted to give you something. I didn’t steal it,’ he added anxiously, his eyes on her face, as if watching for her reaction.
‘No, no, of course, you didn’t,’ said Tanya soothingly. ‘Well, thank you again . . . What is your name? Are you Anita’s son?’
‘Aye, that’s right,’ he replied, nodding his big head. ‘My name’s Nicholas. Can I touch you?’ As he spoke, he put out his hand.
‘No!’ cried Tanya before she could stop herself. He drew back quickly, as though he had been stung.
‘No,’ she repeated more gently. ‘Not just now, I’m very tired.’
‘I’m sorry.’ He backed away, face averted. ‘I’ll leave you to sleep. Do you want to keep the present?’
‘Why, yes, if you would like me to.’
‘What’s your name?’ he asked shyly.
‘Tanya.’
‘It’s lovely – just like you,’ he whispered, then abruptly blew out the candle and plodded over to the far side of the room.
Tanya lay for a long time staring into the darkness, thinking about the strange young man and wondering what tomorrow would bring.
When she awoke again, she was alone in the room. The sun was high in the sky, and although she was stiff and aching, she felt better than she had been since Sten’ka’s death.
Perhaps it is the contact with someone, she thought, and instantly remembered the events of the night before. She pulled the scarf out and looked at it doubtfully. It was decidedly grimy and very creased. In fact, it looked exactly like she felt! More than anything in the world, she wanted a wash. She looked down at her dress and wrinkled her nose in distaste. That, too, was filthy.
She jumped out of bed and peered out of the tiny window. It was so dirty, she could see nothing. She crossed over to the cooking pot and looked inside. It contained a thin, rather unappetising-looking gruel. She hesitated, then turned away. No, she couldn’t help herself, it wouldn’t be right.
She lifted the latch on the door and pushed. It didn’t move. She pushed against it again, harder, but it still wouldn’t budge. An unreasoning panic swept over her, and she threw her whole weight against it, but it didn’t move an inch. She began to pound on it with her fists, yelling furiously at the top of her voice. The door opened so suddenly that Tanya fell out, almost into the arms of the huge figure of Nicholas, who was staring at her as if she were an apparition. She carried on pounding, only this time on him.
‘How dare you lock me in,’ she panted. ‘How dare you? I won’t be kept anywhere against my will, do you understand, you great lout?’
He took hold of her wrists and held her off as easily as though she were a moth beating against him.
‘Hold on, now,’ he said soothingly. ‘It was for your own protection. My mother’s gone into town, and I’ve been away chopping firewood. I just propped the log against the door to make sure nothing got in while I was gone.’
‘To make sure no one got out, you mean,’ hissed Tanya, still in a temper. ‘What’s to stop someone lifting it away and coming in?’
‘Nobody else could lift it,’ replied Nicholas simply.
‘Oh!’ said Tanya, abashed. ‘Well, I suppose I can give you the benefit of the doubt. Only don’t ever do it again, understand?’
‘Not if you don’t want me to,’ he promised. ‘I wouldn’t do anything you didn’t want me to.’
He stood there, towering over her, looking at her with such patent admiration in his blue eyes that Tanya blushed and went back into the cabin.
Nicholas was certainly a splendid specimen of young manhood! He must have been well over six feet four, with broad shoulders and slim hips. His blond hair curled down on to his shoulders, framing a face that was both masculine yet somehow gentle. She liked the frank, open way he looked at her, and if there was a certain simplicity in the clear eyes, that was perhaps part of the charm.
He followed Tanya into the cabin, stooping almost double to pass through the low doorway.
‘I wondered if I could have some breakfast,’ said Tanya to fill the awkward silence that followed the young man’s declaration.
‘Take anything you want,’ he replied, twisting his hat in his hands and following her every movement with his eyes.
‘Have you eaten?’ asked Tanya over her shoulder.
‘Oh yes, hours ago. But I’ll have some mead, chopping wood is thirsty work.’
‘Well, don’t stand there like a post,’ ordered Tanya. ‘Sit down, and I will pour you some.’
He sat on the edge of one of the rough wooden stools, eyes still fixed on her face. Tanya began to feel uncomfortable and just a little exasperated. She put the drink in front of him and took her own meal to the other end of the table. She stole a look at Nicholas from beneath her lashes. He was still staring at her quite openly.
‘Is something the matter?’ she asked rather tartly. He gave a start and looked at her enquiringly. ‘No, nothing at all.’
‘Well then, I wish you will stop gawping at me as though I were a freak in a show,’ she replied with asperity.
It was his turn to look embarrassed, but Tanya bit back the apology that sprang to her lips. She had no wish to encourage him.
‘Is there a stream nearby?’ she ventured after a moment’s silence.
‘Yes, just through those trees there,’ he answered a little sullenly.
‘Good, I must have a wash, I feel filthy and could do with a freshen up before I go on my way.’ She looked at him challengingly on these words, and he looked down at his feet miserably.
‘You can stay as long as you want, until you’ve recovered your strength. Which way are you heading?’
Tanya shrugged. ‘I don’t know precisely, but I must find a reasonably large town where I can find work, I suppose.’
‘You, find work?’ he said in surprise. ‘I thought you were a lady.’
‘Well, I suppose I am to a certain extent, but I’m not afraid of work, and anyway, I haven’t any money,’ said Tanya with devastating frankness.
‘Well then, stay here,’ he pleaded, looking at her hungrily. ‘You can help my mother, and we’ll feed you and give you shelter.’
‘No, really, I couldn’t,’ said Tanya quickly. ‘I should think your mother would have something to say about that – and anyway, I want something more out of life than I can find here. There must be more to life than black bread, gruel, and second-hand clothes.’
She had cried this last passionately, forgetting momentarily to whom she was speaking, and as soon as the words were out of her mouth, she could have bitten off her tongue.
‘Well, if you’re too high and mighty for them, don’t take them!’ he cried, banging his tankard on to the table and standing up. ‘Go on then, clear off and leave me alone, you and your kind, you make me sick!’
With this, he flung out of the room, slamming the door behind him. Tanya sat there feeling very ashamed.
‘I’m not used to talking to people, that’s my trouble,’ she whispered ruefully to herself. ‘I suppose I must go and apologise. But I’m definitely not staying here.’
However, when she reached the door, there was no sign of Nicholas. With a shrug, she returned to the cabin and gathered together her belongings.
‘At least, I can have a bath,’ she thought to herself. ‘And then I’ll come back and say sorry, and be on my way.’
She found the stream with no trouble and, as it was a warm morning, had no qualms in peeling off her stained and dirty clothes. She left them in a pile by some bushes and slid into the water. It was colder than she had thought, and it made her gasp. When she got used to it, however, it was the most delicious feeling, to be soaking away all the grime, aches, and pains of the last few days. She swum gently backwards and forwards for a while, until she began to feel chilly, then she washed her hair with her precious bar of soap, which was very meagre by now. She rinsed it through and rung it out, then stepped up the bank to her clothes. She took one look at the filthy dress and shift and gave a grimace of disgust.
‘I can’t put those horrid things back on,’ she thought. ‘I’m sure if I rinse them through, they’ll dry quick enough, for the sun is quite hot.’ Throwing caution to the winds, she soaked them through, then laid them out on a flat rock to dry.
She wrapped her shawl around her so that it covered her body, but left her arms free, then began to brush out her hair, drying it in the wind. Tanya bent over the water to drink and caught sight of a face looking back at her that surprised her. All traces of childhood had completely left her in these last few days. The face that she saw reflected was completely that of a woman, quite flawless in its loveliness. Tanya gazed at herself musingly, twisting her hair this way and that, trying to make it look something like that of the almost forgotten lady of the carriage. It was then that the sun was blocked out, and another reflection appeared above her own. With a strangled gasp, she leapt to her feet and backed away almost into the water, pulling her hair over her breast to hide her near-nakedness.
The man who stood regarding her with a horrible leer on his face looked somehow familiar, but she could not for the moment think who it could be. But the moment he spoke, it came to her with appalling clarity. He took a step forward, and his eyes flickered over her in a way that made her skin crawl.
‘So I’ve found you, little fairy. The others wouldn’t believe Fedor, they thought he was mad. But I followed you.’ His shoulders shook with silent laughter. ‘I’ve followed you all this way, and now I’ve found you. You’re just as beautiful as I remembered – and you won’t get away this time.’
As he spoke, he lunged forward and grabbed hold of Tanya’s hair, pulling her towards him with surprising strength. She gave a terrified scream and struggled madly, fighting him with all her strength, but she couldn’t shake him off. In the tussle, the shawl fell away, and the sight of her white body seemed to inflame him to madness. He flung her down to the ground brutally, and her head cracked against something, stunning her for a moment. He took advantage of this to run his hands over her body and began to slobber kisses over her breasts. Tanya came to her senses and screamed again. He was trying to hold her down with one hand and was fumbling at his belt with the other. Using every ounce of her strength, Tanya managed to throw him off, and tried to scramble away, but he caught hold of her hair again, and the agonising pain made her scream like a wounded animal. He hit her across her face with the back of his hand, and she almost lapsed into unconsciousness. She was quite devoid of all strength now and lolled like a rag doll. She could feel his hands on her and shuddered, sobbing, every nerve screaming out against this desecration. Then, quite suddenly, the weight of his body was gone from her like magic. One more scream rent the air, then all was silent, apart from the strangled sobbing of her breath. As if through a mist, she saw Nicholas towering over the crumpled body of her aggressor. She managed to sit up, and her head swum dizzily. When her eyes focused, she saw that Fedor was quite dead. From the unnatural position in which he lay, it was obvious that Nicholas must have broken his neck with his bare hands.
Quite forgetful of everything, but the fact that he had saved her, she scrambled up and flung herself into his arms.
‘Oh, thank you, thank you,’ she cried fervently and promptly fainted.
She came to her senses to find Nicholas bathing her face with the corner of her shawl. Her head was in his lap. She smiled waveringly up into his face, then, as the shock set in, began to cry again. He picked her up in his arms as if she was a doll, holding her against his great chest.
‘There, there’ he murmured. ‘It’s all over now, no one is going to hurt you,’ and as if it was the most natural thing in the world, he bent his head and kissed her. Tanya returned the kiss, perhaps more fervently than she meant to, for his lips became more and more demanding, and the blood began to flame through her body. She flung an arm around his neck, and a delicious thrill went through her. He laid her down on the bank and, murmuring endearments into her ear, began to caress her. She shivered in ecstasy and was on the point of abandonment when the full realisation of what she was doing flooded over her. With a choked cry she pushed at his chest, trying to sit up.
‘No, no,’ she moaned. ‘What are we doing? I can’t. Please, Nicholas, please.’
For a moment it seemed as if he had not heard her, for he continued to shower kisses on to her face, never slackening his hold.
‘Nicholas, Nicholas!’ panted Tanya, and getting a hand free, she slapped him full across the face. He looked down at her as if in a trance, then, shaking his big head, he let her go. His eyes, which had glazed over with passion gradually cleared, and he gave a shudder. He seemed to come to himself then and looked at Tanya in dismay.
‘Forgive me, I don’t know what came over me. I am as bad as he is, and I’ve frightened you. Please say you forgive me.’
‘No, no, you haven’t frightened me, more I’ve frightened myself,’ said Tanya quietly, then, becoming aware of her nakedness, blushed fierily, vainly trying to cover herself with her hair.
‘I’ll get your clothes,’ muttered Nicholas, who was looking as embarrassed as Tanya herself, and getting to his feet, he stumbled off towards Tanya’s clothes which were still stretched out on the rocks.
By the time he returned, Tanya’s heart had stopped beating quite so violently, and to her dismay and chagrin, she felt horribly sick. With a muffled exclamation, she disappeared behind a clump of bushes and promptly lost her breakfast. It was such an anti-climax that she felt an insane desire to laugh and would undoubtedly have gone into strong hysterics had Nicholas not returned with her clothes at that moment.
Pulling herself together, she took her clothes and went to sit by the river whilst she dressed herself, grimacing a little as the dress was still slightly damp. It wasn’t until she stood up, feeling rather more herself, that the horrifying realisation of what had happened flooded over her. Nicholas had just committed murder for her sake. A man who, just a few minutes ago had been a living, breathing creature was dead because of her. Despite the fact that this man had treated her shamefully and had tried to rape her, he was still dead – and at Nicholas’s hands! With a fearful glance at the body, she slipped over to where Nicholas sat, brooding.
‘Nicholas,’ she breathed. ‘What about him? Whatever shall we do?’
For a moment, he looked at her as if he didn’t know what she was talking about, then the impact of it all hit him too. He stared in front of him blindly.
‘I didn’t mean to do it – not to kill him,’ he whispered brokenly. ‘But when I saw him with his filthy hands on you, hitting you and . . . and kissing you, I just saw red. I don’t really remember what happened. I was so mad – and in a way, jealous too,’ he added, stealing a glance at her. ‘It was what I wanted to do – what I’ve wanted to do ever since I first saw you – to kiss you and to love you. When I saw him treating you like that, something just seemed to snap inside me.’ He looked at her miserably, awaiting her reaction.
‘Well, it’s no good crying over spilt milk,’ said Tanya with a firmness that surprised herself as much as him. ‘What’s done is done, and we must live with it. But we can’t leave him here, that’s for sure. We’ll have to bury him, and just hope we hear no more about it. He was a miserable little toad, anyway, even if he is dead, and you shouldn’t speak ill of the departed.’
Tanya tossed her head defiantly, as if challenging anyone to disagree with her, and Nicholas looked at her admiringly.
‘I’ll do it now,’ he said. ‘You go back to the house, it’s no job for a woman, and you are upset enough already. My mother should be back from town by now. Tell her I’ve nearly finished my work and will be home soon. Go on now.’
Nothing loath, Tanya left him to his gruesome task and returned to the cabin. Old Anita had not yet returned, and the stove had gone out. She busied herself with relighting it and heating up the big pot of soup for the midday meal. Then, looking around her with a grimace of disgust, she set about sweeping the place out and cleaning the dirty bowls and cups that were piled everywhere. By the time Nicholas returned, everything was looking quite clean and bright. He looked around him wonderingly.
‘Why I’ve never seen the place look so smart!’ he exclaimed. ‘Where’s mother?’
‘Not back yet,’ replied Tanya absently. ‘Would you like your meal now, I’ve heated up the remains of the soup. I don’t think there’s any bread left or anything else much for that matter.’
‘Yes, I’m hungry. I suppose I shouldn’t be, but I can’t help it.’
‘Well, to tell you the truth,’ confided Tanya, ‘I’m starving! I feel quite guilty about it, but there it is.’
They looked at one another like naughty children, and then they both began to laugh. Afterwards, they felt much better and ate up all the remains of the soup. With a contented sigh, Tanya curled up on the stove and looked at Nicholas shyly.
‘How old are you, Nicholas?’ she asked. ‘I’m nearly seventeen.’
‘I’m nineteen, I think,’ replied Nicholas. ‘I’m not sure, but my mother used to scratch a mark on the wall every spring since I was born, and she tells me there are nineteen. I can’t count much myself, but she can – and she can spell out her name,’ he added proudly. ‘My father had some learning and taught her, but he was killed soon after I was born, and she never bothered with me. She thinks men don’t need such things – and I suppose she’s right.’ He sighed. ‘I never wished to do anything about it – until now.’
‘I would teach you to write your name – if I was staying, that is,’ she added hastily. ‘But of course, I’m not, so . . .’ she trailed off uncomfortably and jumped down restlessly. ‘Why do you think your mother is taking such a long time?’ she asked fretfully. ‘Will she be bringing some provisions back, there doesn’t seem to be anything left to eat at all?’
‘There’s rye and turnips planted out back, we make do. I expect she’s visiting, she goes for days sometimes,’ he answered, looking at her moodily from under his lashes. ‘Why won’t you stay?’
‘Because I can’t,’ replied Tanya impulsively. ‘Don’t you see, Nicholas, I just can’t. I don’t belong here, I’m just another mouth to feed, and anyway, I want to see the world.’ She looked at him entreatingly and clasped her hands together nervously. ‘It’s not that I don’t want to stay – part of me does, but . . . I just can’t do it. It’s impossible.’
‘You could marry me, then my mother couldn’t say anything, and . . . I’d take good care of you.’ He coloured, then looked at her pleadingly. ‘Please, don’t go away. If you do, I’ll follow you. Wherever you go, I’ll follow you.’
‘And your mother?’ she reminded him quietly. ‘What of her? She can’t manage alone. You couldn’t possibly leave her.’
With an impatient exclamation, he flung away from her, striking his fist into his palm. ‘I can’t help it,’ he cried. ‘I can’t live without you, don’t you understand that? I wish you had never come here.’
He almost ran across the room to her side and swept her into his arms, gazing earnestly down into her eyes. For a moment, blue eyes fought with green, then hers dropped. ‘Did you really mean that, about marrying me?’ asked Tanya wonderingly. ‘You only met me yesterday, after all. I might be a bad-tempered shrew for all you know.’
He laughed and shook his head. ‘No, you couldn’t possibly be,’ he replied. ‘You are too beautiful.’
Tanya shook her head and gently pushed him away. ‘Look, dear Nicholas,’ she said quietly. ‘I think you are doing me a great honour, and I thank you from the bottom of my heart. I think you are a wonderful person, truly I do, very sweet and kind, and you’ve been so good to me. But I’m not ready to marry anyone yet – I don’t even know my own mind. I don’t know what I want to do, or where I want to go. I only know my soul is filled with a great longing for something – something better out of life than I’ve had yet. Perhaps I’ll never find it – I’ll probably wish one day I had stayed here with you and led a good, quiet life. But I have to find out about myself, about – oh, so many, many things. Do you understand what I’m trying to say, Nicholas?’
She looked at him anxiously, her beautiful eyes troubled and bright with unshed tears. For a moment, it looked as if he would ignore her impassioned speech and try again to take her into his arms, but with a great effort, he pulled himself together and turned from her, his great shoulders bowed as if beneath a weight too heavy even for them. He suddenly looked very tired, and all his youthful vivacity seemed to drain away from him.
‘Yes,’ was all he said, then turning, stumbled blindly from the room.
Tanya watched him go, with tears pricking at her eyelids. ‘Poor Nicholas,’ she whispered. ‘I could have loved you if only I had been someone else. But I have a dream to follow. It will probably lead me nowhere, but I must follow it.’
With a heavy heart, she turned away, then, suddenly