Valerie's Russia

by Sara Judge

  Pyotr wanted to be left alone to sink ever deeper into misery and hatred of the entire world.

  ‘Nurse!’ he shouted, raising his head and yelling across the quiet ward. ‘I want the Nurse-in-Charge to get this foreign girl away from me!’

  At first Valerie was worried by the change in Pyotr. This was a stranger and not the man she had once adored. Had the head wound affected his sanity?

  But as she watched his tense, furious face and heard the strength in his voice, she suspected that he was not as badly hurt as she had feared and that his pride was probably the most wounded part of him.

  Remembering the handsome and confident young officer with whom she had fallen in love, Valerie knew his injuries must be depressing him. But Pyotr had to understand how fortunate he was.

  She thought of the young man who had died in her arms that very morning, and of the two who would surely die that night, or next day. Two young lads who lay uncomplaining, thankful for her comforting words as they waited for death in unrelieved agony.

  Grimly she dragged her weary body to its feet.

  ‘I will not come again, Count Pyotr Silakov,’ she said loudly, causing him to turn his head in surprise at the sound of her voice. ‘Go on, yell as much as you like though I doubt if anyone will come. We are all too busy caring for the ones who really need us, and who are grateful for the hours we spend trying to help them. You should be glad you still have a life ahead of you. I will make sure your family is informed of your whereabouts.’

  Then she turned on her sturdy black heel and marched out of the ward.

  Chapter Twenty

  Tassya was the first to visit Pyotr after Valerie. She telegraphed the time and day of her arrival and came to the hospital with Dunya, asking for Valerie Marsh.

  ‘I wanted to see you before him,’ she said, as they stood in the passage outside Valerie’s ward. ‘How badly hurt is he?’

  Tassya looked exhausted. Travelling was difficult now that so many troops were being sent to the front, and railway carriages, cattle trucks, and goods trains, were all being used bringing the wounded back to hospitals in the Ukraine.

  Fortunately, Pyotr’s hospital was the one nearest to the railway station.

  ‘Is he in terrible pain?’ asked Tassya. ‘Will I be able to see him without weeping?’ Her face was pale beneath her wolf-skin hat and Dunya was carrying a walking-stick although Tassya had not used it. ‘Will he be able to come home soon?’

  Valerie reached out to pat the girl’s fur-clad arm.

  ‘You will have to ask the Nurse-in-Charge,’ she said. ‘I am occupied on this second floor and haven’t seen Pyotr since sending you news of him. I don’t think he is in much pain and hope he can soon be sent back to Mavara. He is proving a difficult patient.’

  Tassya nodded. ‘He was never good at sitting still and doing nothing. And we want him home, Valerie. So many of our men have been called up, Mother and I are not coping very well on our own. Conrad left on Saturday.’

  ‘Then tell Pyotr that,’ said Valerie. ‘It will be good for him to feel needed.’

  ‘Will you come too?’ said Tassya, looking at the white-clad English girl with the red cross on her sleeve.

  Valerie was good with her mother, she was good at Mavara, and everything seemed more orderly when she was around.

  ‘Andrei will be sent back shortly and we’ll need your nursing skills. You did promise, Valerie.’

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Valerie. So much would depend on Pyotr’s wishes, and those of Sophia. ‘But tell me about Andrei,’ she went on quickly. ‘Has he also been wounded?’

  Tassya blushed. ‘He sent me a very badly written letter, but he is going to be all right and will come to Mavara as soon as he’s able to travel. I wrote to him as soon as you told me about Pyotr, and I also told him I was walking again.’

  Valerie clapped her hands. ‘Pyotr doesn’t know about that! That will be excellent news for him, Tassya. I’ll take you down now then I must get back to work.’

  Having left Tassya and Dunya at the entrance to Pyotr’s ward, she hurried upstairs again, her heart lifting with every step. If only Pyotr could be sent across to Mavara she was certain that his beloved home, and his family, would give him the courage to face life again and renew some of his old vitality.

  As soon as his sister had left him, Pyotr went over every word of their conversation, scarcely believing what he had heard.

  Tassya could walk again and Andrei was safe.

  Pyotr leaned his head back against the pillows and felt his limbs relax in an enormous sense of joy and relief.

  Then his thoughts returned to Valerie Marsh, and with a slight smile he remembered their first meeting at Tsarskoe Selo railway station, and how enthusiastic she had been about everything Russian, and of her growing love for the new land in which she found herself, and their own developing passion.

  She was very special, his Little England, and he hadn’t treated her at all well when she came to see him.

  Well, he was going to do better from now on. He would be polite to the nurses, who were only doing their duty when they removed his bandages and dabbed with irritating speed at his sore head and arm.

  He intended thinking positively, and would always be thankful he hadn’t lost the sight of his left eye, which had at first been feared. And his head wound was healing slowly. Pyotr knew he had to accept loss of movement in his left hand, but at least his arm had not been amputated.

  What worried him most was his face. The head wound would heal in time and his hair would grow back, but the left side of his face was badly scarred. He could feel the roughened weals with his fingers and knew that his good looks, as well as the chance to fight for his country, had gone forever.

  Then he remembered the girl he was supposed to marry.

  Oh God, he could not bear that beauty from St Petersburg seeing him in this ugly, immobile state.

  Tassya had seen him, and hadn’t appeared unduly shocked by his appearance, but then she knew what it was like to be helpless and dependent on others.

  And Valerie Marsh, due to her daily work in the hospital, was used to injuries far worse than his and had even berated him for his self-pity.

  But the last thing he wanted was for the glorious Sophia to come floating to his bedside with her furs and jewels, making shocked or sympathetic noises in her high, imperious voice.

  Feverishly he prayed that she would be unable to make the long journey down to Kiev in wartime.

  Two weeks later the Nurse-in-Charge informed Valerie that Count Pyotr Silakov could be discharged.

  ‘He is demanding that you travel with him,’ she said coldly. ‘As there is only a young sister and an elderly mother at home, and all the men servants have been called up, there doesn’t seem to be anyone else capable of travelling with him. Do you wish to accompany him, Valerie Marsh?’

  ‘I will go,’ said Valerie. She hadn’t seen Pyotr since that first unpleasant encounter in the ward, but if he was asking for her now she would not refuse him. ‘I will assist him on the journey and see him safely home. After that I don’t know.’

  So much would depend on Sophia.

  ‘We will miss you,’ said the Nurse-in-Charge. ‘Come back if you can, Valerie Marsh. I fear this war is going to last a long time.’

  ‘I will return if it is possible,’ said Valerie.

  Although she had been desperate to get away from Mavara, she now remembered its tranquillity after the rush and chaos of the wards, its beauty and luxury after the stench and filth of the military hospital. And here was the chance to be with Pyotr and help him rebuild his broken body and disrupted life.

  He had asked for her, so that meant he wanted her near him.

  The day before leaving, Valerie said goodbye to all the nursing sisters and told the Nurse-in-Charge she would come early the following morning to collect Pyotr. With train services so badly disrupted she wanted to get to the railway station as soon as possible.

  Maria, the nurs
e who had been assisting Pyotr with his walking up and down the ward – and who did not like him very much – wished Valerie luck with the man. Count Silakov was the most pig-headed, self-centred patient she had ever had to deal with and she was thankful not to be taking him home.

  Valerie knew Pyotr so well she was sure his release would put him in a better frame of mind. Maria also told her that although Pyotr walked well without the aid of a stick, he always put unnecessary weight on her arm, which further annoyed her.

  He can rest on me as much as he likes, thought Valerie, hurrying back to her room to get some sleep before morning.

  The street had been shovelled free of snow for it was November already and the first snows had begun to fall. She had telegraphed Tassya to tell her when they would be leaving Kiev, and had asked for Feodor to wait at Kamenka railway station for them. They should arrive in the late afternoon, but delays were more than likely.

  Valerie wasn’t sure if Feodor remained at Mavara. But as he was considerably older than Conrad she hoped he had not been sent to the front. She also hoped that she would be able to get a seat for Pyotr.

  Too much standing on the platform, or in the train, would not be good for his injured leg. However, she would worry about that in the morning. Now she needed to sleep.

  After she had packed her few belongings into a canvas bag she fell into bed and was instantly asleep.

  But almost at once, it seemed, she was awakened by a loud rapping on her door and the voice of her landlady calling her name.

  Slowly Valerie sat up, trying to gather her wits. Then she pulled on her dressing-gown and stumbled to the door.

  Outside on the landing stood the owner of the house and behind her were Sophia Lukaev and her maid, Vera.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  ‘I am sorry to wake you,’ said Sophia, pushing past the landlady and entering the shabby room, ‘but I must speak to you. Light the lamp quickly. I must get back to my hotel, but had to see you first. Thank you,’ she said sharply, to the hovering woman in the doorway, ‘I can let myself out.’

  The landlady shrugged then disappeared down the stairs, leaving them in semi-darkness as Valerie fumbled for the matches to light the lamp.

  ‘There,’ she said, as the wick caught and she adjusted the glass shade before sitting down on the edge of the bed. Sophia perched on the only chair and Vera stood by the door. ‘Have you seen Pyotr?’

  Sophia looked magnificent in a sable coat and matching hat, with pearls in her ears and around her throat.

  ‘The journey from Petrograd was unbelievably squalid,’ she said. ‘I had to share my compartment with three other women and it has taken over a week to get here. I cannot imagine how I’ll ever get back but …’ she hesitated, fumbling for a tiny lace handkerchief at her wrist.

  ‘Why have you come to me? And have you seen Pyotr?’ Valerie asked again, wishing she was more prepared for this visit.

  Sophia shuffled on her chair and dabbed at her mouth with the handkerchief.

  ‘I have just come from Pyotr,’ she said. ‘And it was a dreadful shock, Valerie. I think he’s gone mad.’

  ‘What?’ Valerie stared at her. ‘Why do you say that? What did he do?’

  ‘He didn’t do, or say, anything. I don’t even know whether he recognized me. I sat beside his bed. I talked to him, Valerie, but he just stared straight ahead as if I weren’t there!’ She began to sob. ‘And his poor face – he is so disfigured – I cannot marry him, Valerie. He is not the man I once loved.’

  Sophia lifted a tear-streaked face to the horrified English girl.

  ‘He frightens and disgusts me,’ she said. ‘I gave him back the ring and came away. But I want you to go there, Valerie, and make sure he is all right. I’m not sure if he understood me, but I don’t want to hurt him any more than he has already been hurt. And the ring, Valerie, see if that is safe.’

  She dabbed at her eyes with the handkerchief as Valerie tried to take in the enormity of what she had heard.

  ‘I shoved the ring into his good hand and came away, but I don’t want it stolen, Valerie. Please go.’

  Without a word Valerie slipped off her dressing-gown and began pulling on a long black skirt and thick pullover over her nightdress. Then she reached for her winter coat, which hung on a hook behind the door, and tied a scarf around her unbound hair.

  ‘I’ll go at once,’ she said, buttoning up her coat. Then she glanced at the lamp and moved across to turn down the wick. ‘I don’t believe I shall be long, but who knows? I may have to stay longer than I intend.’

  If Pyotr were in a distressed state she would have to stay with him till morning.

  Then she glanced at Sophia, who was following her out of the room with Vera behind her, and felt enormous relief that this beautiful creature would soon be out of her life.

  ‘What are you going to do now?’ she asked, as they walked out onto the landing and she closed the door behind them.

  ‘I shall return to my hotel and try to get a train to Petrograd tomorrow. The railways are in chaos so I don’t know when I’ll be home again. Thank God these are lit,’ she went on, as they descended the stairs. ‘What a miserable dwelling, Valerie. I don’t know how you can live here.’

  ‘I spend most of my time at the hospital,’ said Valerie, following her down the sagging, uncarpeted stairs. ‘But the room has served its purpose. Tomorrow I’m taking Pyotr back to Mavara.’

  ‘Good,’ said Sophia, as they reached the step into a quiet, white night where the snow fell lightly on their heads. ‘Don’t tell him he repulsed me. Just say I was glad to see him but am shortly to leave with my parents for America. That was the reason I broke off our engagement.’

  ‘America?’ What a long journey to make in wartime, thought Valerie.

  ‘We’ll wait until the spring and then make for Murmansk once the ice has melted. The port is in British hands and your friends, the Lees, will be returning to England that way. Mrs Lees asked me to give you her best wishes, Valerie, when I bumped into her in Alexandre’s. Papa says Russia is finished, so I don’t mind leaving now that I’m not going to marry Pyotr.’

  At the next corner the girls went in opposite directions. As she waved goodbye to the glamorous, wealthy girl accompanied by her maid, Valerie’s heart beat with unusual joy.

  The Lukaev wealth was no longer available, and Count Pyotr Silakov was no longer the dashing, handsome young officer with whom she had fallen in love. But to her neither money, nor dazzling appearances, were important. All she wanted was to love Pyotr forever. If he would let her.

  Praying that Sophia had been wrong in thinking his mind had been affected, Valerie entered the hospital and made her way up to the first floor.

  It was very quiet in the ward, which was lit only by a lamp at the far end where the night-sister was sitting. She glanced up on seeing Valerie, but did not call out as the girl tiptoed to Pyotr’s bedside.

  Mothers and wives and lovers were continually coming at any time of the day or night, so this nocturnal visit was not unusual.

  For a long time Valerie gazed down at the still figure in the bed. Pyotr seemed to be sleeping peacefully and she didn’t want to disturb him. Certainly there was nothing strange, or worrying, about his recumbent form.

  There was no sign of the ring, however, and for Sophia’s sake as well as for Countess Irina’s, she felt the precious ruby and platinum jewel must be found.

  Cautiously she bent forward, wondering if it had slipped between the folds of the bedcovers, when Pyotr’s voice made her jump.

  ‘I didn’t realize we were going to leave before the dawn.’

  ‘You gave me a fright!’ Valerie stepped back, placing a hand on her chest. ‘I thought you were asleep.’

  ‘Resting not sleeping. What do you want here, Valerie Marsh?’

  She looked like a peasant woman, he thought, with the headscarf and drab winter coat. Grey, no doubt, although he couldn’t make out the colour. How very different she was to the spl
endid scented lady, who had come to his side but a short while ago.

  ‘Are we leaving now?’ His voice was irritable, but in no way insane.

  Valerie sighed. ‘We are not going until morning. But Sophia has just been to see me and was very upset by …’ she paused … ‘By your troubled state. She asked me to come round and make sure you were all right.’

  ‘Troubled state? What extraordinary words to use!’ Pyotr shifted up on his pillows, leaning on his good arm. ‘A foolish lady, the Lukaev. I was glad to see her go,’ he said.

  ‘Pyotr! She was your future wife. Were you not upset when she returned your ring?’

  His eyes glinted in the light from the distant lamp.

  ‘I have the ring. It is the best thing I have ever received from her.’

  ‘You are being very unkind,’ said Valerie, frowning. ‘Sophia and her parents are hoping to get across to America and start a new life over there. That is the reason she returned your ring. She wanted me to make sure that you were not too distressed.’

  ‘No,’ he said. ‘I just didn’t want her to come and see me like this, Valerie. Perhaps I treated her unkindly by ignoring her, but she means nothing to me now.’ He lifted his head and stared up at the ceiling. ‘Before the war Sophia was an important part of my life. But now everything has changed. Those golden days of wine and roses are gone forever.’

  ‘Don’t say that!’ Valerie removed her mittens and shoved them into her pocket before reaching forward to touch Pyotr’s good hand. ‘The happy times will come again, and laughter and joy will return once the fighting is over.’

  ‘Maybe, but until then I want to get back to Mavara and organize the estate. I want to make sure bread and sugar can be produced in large quantities for our troops. Tassya says most of the men have been called up, but the women still work.’