Becoming Lola
Page 14
Paskievitch’s frown deepened. ‘She will not find us so accommodating in Poland. What do we know about her intentions?’
‘She plans to stay for a while then go on to Russia. She claims the czar himself has invited her to perform in St Petersburg.’
Paskievitch raised an eyebrow. ‘And yet she mixes with people like Steinkeller and Lesnowski, dangerous intellectuals who criticise Russian policy. Either she is a fool or she is arrogant enough to think her behaviour will be overlooked for the sake of her charms.’ He scrawled a few notes on the dossier and handed it back to Abramowicz. ‘Continue to watch her and report to me again in two weeks.’
Abramowicz cleared his throat. ‘In my capacity as manager of the Grand Theatre, she has approached me with a request for work. I hear she has talent in spite of her erratic behaviour. It might be interesting to engage her for a few performances; provided you have no objection, of course.’
‘I see no harm in it for the moment. You may do so.’
With a bow, Abramowicz took his leave. Pleased with his success, he returned home and penned a note to Lola. He liked to think of himself as a connoisseur of the arts – ballet in particular – and she ought to be grateful for his support. He was also hopeful that in the fullness of time, she might be persuaded to show her appreciation in more private ways.
*
On the journey from Berlin, Lola had decided to stake the funds she had left on securing an entry into high society. Accordingly, as soon as she arrived in Warsaw, she took the grand suite at the Hotel de Rome, the best hotel in the city. It was in this suite’s luxuriously furnished drawing room that she entertained a group of her new Polish friends a few days later. Among them were Antoni Lesnowski, Warsaw’s most prominent liberal publisher, and Piotr Steinkeller, a banker and industrialist with extensive interests in mines and mills as well as being the owner of a large department store. A tall, spare man with a cultured air, he was a benevolent employer who took a lead in building housing and hospitals for his numerous employees.
‘You are a born revolutionary, Lola,’ he said when she had finished regaling the company with her opinions on the Russian authorities. ‘I have seldom heard such an impassioned speech against oppression and foreign rule.’
Lola looked round the group. ‘Isn’t any person of spirit a revolutionary? How can anyone not want to be free?’
Antoni Lesnowski frowned. ‘Of course Poland longs for freedom but it’s not so easy. Russia’s power is far greater than ours. Her army would crush us like flies.’
She sighed. ‘I suppose you are right.’
‘Sadly, he is,’ Steinkeller shrugged. ‘We have to bide our time. Meanwhile, we try to persuade the authorities to agree to some changes that will make our lives easier. And when the opportunity presents itself, some of us try to make their lives a little harder.’ He grinned, ‘But I hear you have achieved more since you arrived than we have in a decade. I understand you have Colonel Abramowicz in the palm of your hand.’
Lola laughed. ‘Hardly, but he has agreed to engage me for a few performances.’ She stood up. ‘I mustn’t neglect my other guests. Will you take a turn with me, Piotr?’
‘With pleasure.’
He bowed to the others and led her away. ‘Be careful, Lola,’ he murmured as he did so. ‘Warsaw is full of spies. You seem to be among friends here, but one can never be sure. I would advise you not to speak so freely in future.’
Her eyes danced. ‘I’m not afraid.’
‘But you should be.’
She squeezed his arm. ‘You are a dear friend, Piotr. If they dare touch me, I shall feel safe if I have you on my side.’
*
Lola gave her first performance at the Grand Theatre the following week. The audience’s response was warm but even so, she sensed a little reserve in the applause.
‘People are cautious in Warsaw,’ Steinkeller said when she spoke with him afterward. ‘They are used to looking over their shoulders to see who watches them. It doesn’t make for spontaneity. I’m sure they appreciated your dancing. It is simply that they show their admiration more quietly than you are used to.’
‘I don’t know how you endure being spied on all the time,’ Lola shuddered. ‘I hate spies and I feel their presence everywhere. The maids take far too long arranging my flowers and tidying my rooms. I have begun to recognise the men standing in the shadows when I come and go from the hotel.’
‘I’m afraid they are a fact of life we Poles have learnt to live with.’
‘If it was up to me, I would poison all the Russians and take my country back for those who have the right to it.’
He smiled. ‘I do believe you would.’
*
She arrived late at the theatre the next night. Abramowicz met her at the door to her dressing room. He was agitated.
‘Dona Montez! The curtain goes up in ten minutes. You will never be ready.’
‘People will wait: I’m sure they won’t mind.’
His face purpled. ‘I’m not so certain of that. You should have been here more than an hour ago. What am I to tell the audience?’
‘Tell them I’ll dance for them when I’m ready.’ With a snap of her fingers, she whisked into her dressing room and shut the door in his face.
She sat down at the dressing table and snapped her fingers for her maid. ‘Are my costumes pressed?’
‘Of course, madam, shall I bring the first one now?’
‘No, bring me some wine first. I’m in no hurry.’
The maid left the room and Lola smiled at her reflection in the mirror. She would not be criticised by anyone, certainly not a functionary like Abramowicz. She knew what he wanted; he hoped she would give herself to him as a reward for his support. Well, he would have no luck if he tried to treat her like a naughty child.
When she arrived on stage at last, she was glad to note that very few seats were empty. She glanced up at the director’s box and flashed a triumphant smile. She had been right. People had waited to see her.
After her last dance and her curtain call, she went back to her dressing room. Abramowicz was nowhere to be seen. She shrugged and began to remove her make up. Let him sulk if it was what he wanted. She could bring him to heel any time she liked.
*
At eleven the following morning, he arrived at the Hotel de Rome with a large bunch of yellow roses. If he wanted to make amends, Lola thought, it would be churlish not to accept the gift.
‘My favourites.’ She breathed in the scent. ‘How clever of you, colonel. It is such a fine day, isn’t it? I planned to take a drive to Lazienki Park. Would you like to accompany me?’
‘It would be a pleasure.’
Lola’s hired carriage went at a leisurely pace through the park. She chatted gaily to Abramowicz and they admired the peacocks strutting on the lawns and the delightful rococo palace overlooking the lake. He appeared to enjoy showing off his city to her. It seemed the shadow of the previous night was completely dispelled.
Numerous alleys divided the park’s gardens and woods and the carriage was driving down a deserted one when Abramowicz placed his hand on her knee. She removed it gently.
Colonel, I hope you don’t intend to insult me?’
‘Insult you?’ he asked with a smile. He replaced his hand, this time a little further up her thigh. ‘Surely not?’
Lola bristled. ‘I do not understand you, sir.’
‘Oh, I think you do. A woman like you knows how the world works.’
He made a grab for her but she managed to push him away.
‘How dare you! I have never encouraged you.’
‘I beg to disagree, madam.’
Once more he lunged. This time she screamed and boxed his ears as hard as she could. He recoiled with a howl of pain. Lola leapt forward and hammered on the wall of the carriage. It came to an abrupt halt and a moment later, her coachman’s anxious face appeared.
‘Are you all right, Dona Montez?’
From the far
corner of the seat, a seething Abramowicz scowled at him.
‘The colonel is leaving us,’ Lola said imperiously.
Abramowicz opened his mouth to protest then seemed to think better of it. Glowering at the coachman, he stepped out of the carriage. ‘I won’t forget this,’ he muttered.
Lola ignored him. ‘Drive on,’ she commanded.
*
Steinkeller roared with laughter when she told the tale but soon his native caution returned. ‘I advise you to keep the story between ourselves, Lola,’ he said. ‘It would be unwise to make an enemy of Abramowicz. He won’t appreciate being the butt of jokes.’
Lola shrugged. ‘He should have thought of that before he tried to take liberties.’
She refrained from telling him the damage was already done for she had seen to it that the story would spread.
Not long afterwards, however, to her great annoyance, her audiences started to dwindle. It was not hard to guess who was at the bottom of it.
‘You’re probably right,’ Steinkeller said when she mentioned it to him. He gave her a quizzical look. ‘I did try to warn you against angering Abramowicz.’
She sighed. ‘I know. But what is to be done? I can’t bear him to win.’
Steinkeller took her arm. ‘I could send some of my workers to support you, how would that be? I’ll tell them to cheer as loudly as possible.’
‘You are so kind.’
At her next performance, Abramowicz fumed as her dances were greeted with rapturous applause. He had put it about that Lola was no longer in favour with the authorities. There should have been empty seats, but the auditorium was fuller than ever. To make matters worse, his wife was furious and many of his acquaintances had taken to greeting him with knowing smiles. He made a few enquiries and soon discovered Piotr Steinkeller’s little ruse. After a sleepless night, he thought of a plan.
The following evening, he ordered some of his officers to dress in plain clothes and mingle with the audience. Lola was only halfway through her first dance when hisses and whistles erupted in the auditorium. Swiftly, Steinkeller’s men drowned the noise with their own cheers and applause but then the first fight broke out between some of the officers and a group of strapping warehousemen from Steinkeller’s department store.
Soon the whole auditorium was in uproar. Those of the audience who could still leave their seats fled and the orchestra hurried from the pit clutching their instruments. On stage, the corps de ballet scuttled away too. Only Lola remained, smiling in triumph. This would teach Abramowicz not to oppose the will of the people. She blew a kiss in the direction of his box.
*
Prince Paskievitch was at his country estate for the autumn hunt and Abramowicz knew it would be unwise to expel Lola without discussing it with him first, but his honour demanded he take action of some kind. The day after the riot, he summoned two of his officers and ordered them to go to the Hotel de Rome and arrest Lola.
She received them with all her charm. ‘But why am I not permitted to leave the hotel?’ she asked sweetly. ‘Surely there is some mistake?’
‘No mistake, Dona Montez,’ the chief officer said awkwardly. ‘Colonel Abramowicz’ orders.’
Locked in her suite, Lola paced the rooms like a lioness. She wrote to Steinkeller and Lesnowski but they both replied it was too dangerous to visit her. She was angry at first but when her temper cooled she realised they were right. There was nothing they could do and their intervention might only make things worse.
When Paskievitch returned to Warsaw, Abramowicz went straight to see him. The viceroy frowned when he heard what had happened.
‘The circumstances are not what I would have wished, but we cannot turn back now,’ he said. ‘Escort her to the Prussian border.’
He gave a wry smile. ‘I suggest you leave the job to others. It would not add greatly to your dignity if she resisted. Send some of your best men and warn them to take care. We don’t want an embarrassing scene. I hear these Spanish women carry daggers in their garter.’
Lola was at breakfast when she received the officers detailed to escort her. She gave them a winning smile.
‘Please thank Colonel Abramowicz, but tell him I am very content here and the weather grows too cold for travelling. I have decided to stay.’
Outmanoeuvred, the officers returned to the colonel and made their report. Abramowicz banged his fist on his desk, scattering a pile of papers and making the inkwell jump.
‘And you let her get away with it?’
‘We didn’t know what to do, colonel,’ the chief officer said. ‘We could hardly drag her out of the hotel.’
‘Idiots! Get out of my sight.’
Alone, he tried to compose a note to Paskievitch asking for his advice, but everything he wrote made him sound whining and incompetent. He threw the drafts away and thought for a long time. Perhaps he would not involve his superior yet. There might be another way of defeating Lola. If he ordered his men to remove her by force, it would be bound to cause uproar, but using her loyalty to her friends might be effective. He took up his pen once more and wrote a note to Piotr Steinkeller, summoning him to a meeting.
*
Seated opposite Abramowicz in his office at the prefecture of police, Steinkeller maintained a cautious reserve. Abramowicz seemed in an affable mood but appearances with him were usually deceptive.
‘I believe you and Madame Steinkeller see a good deal of Dona Montez,’ Abramowicz remarked after a preamble of small talk.
‘She visits us from time to time.’
‘Prince Paskievitch was very displeased by the disturbance at the Grand Theatre after her last performance.’
‘I’m sorry to hear it, but why are you telling me?’
Abramowicz smiled. ‘I wouldn’t dream of suggesting you are anything but a loyal subject of the czar, but it has come to our attention that Dona Montez has been speaking out among friends against his authority and that of Prince Paskievitch.’ He pushed a dossier across the desk. ‘Most reprehensible, don’t you agree? Especially when the loyalty of some of these friends is already in question.’
Steinkeller felt a chill creep up his spine and paw at his neck.
‘You look pale, meinherr. I hope you are not unwell? You must take more care.’
Steinkeller glanced through the first few pages of the dossier.
‘I imagine there is something I can do to persuade you not to use this?’
‘It is such a pleasure to deal with a man of your intelligence. Dona Montez seems unwilling to leave Warsaw. All I ask is that you persuade her to change her mind. A quiet departure would be best for everyone.’
Steinkeller swallowed. ‘I will see what I can do.’
‘You have twenty-four hours.’
On his return home, his wife rushed into his arms. ‘What did he want? I’ve been so worried.’
He kissed her. ‘He wants me to persuade Lola to leave Warsaw.’
‘What did you say?’
‘I agreed to try. She may be angry, but I have to think of all our safety. I hope she will understand that. Now all we need to do is think of a way.’
Later that afternoon, Madame Steinkeller arrived at Lola’s hotel and was admitted to her suite. The two women hugged each other.
‘I’m so happy to see you,’ Lola beamed. ‘I’ve been very lonely here.’
‘I’ve come to ask you to join us on a visit to our estate in the country.’
‘But what about Abramowicz? I don’t want to put you in danger.’
‘Piotr has already spoken with him’
Lola looked at her suspiciously. ‘And he consents?’
‘Yes.’
Lola turned away and walked to the window. She glanced out at the street and saw one of the usual watchers loitering on the other side of the road. She turned back. ‘Will it harm you if I decline the invitation?’
‘I fear it will.’
‘I suppose it is a very short way from your estate to the border?’
Lola stepped forward and took her hands. ‘There’s nothing to forgive. Of course I’ll come.’ She frowned. ‘But I won’t return to Prussia, I always intended to go on to St Petersburg. I mustn’t delay my journey if I’m to reach there before the snows come.’
Chapter 18
The fastest route lay along the coast of the Baltic Sea. Day after day, the post coaches in which Lola travelled struggled through sleet and snow over roads rutted with frozen mud. She had very little money left, but she kept her spirits up imagining the triumph she would enjoy when the czar heard that she was in the city: a command performance at the very least.
They arrived late at night. It was freezing and needles of rain stung Lola’s face as the coach rumbled away over the cobbles, leaving her and her maid outside the small hotel that the driver had recommended.
‘My cousin, Mrs Vitebsky owns it,’ he had said. ‘Very clean and comfortable. She’ll see you right.’
Lola’s maid looked around apprehensively at the deserted street. ‘It seems very quiet everywhere, madam.’
Lola strode up to the door. ‘We’d better get in before we both die of cold. Hurry up with my bags,’ she called over her shoulder.
She rang the bell several times before a sleepy woman with a lined, weathered face opened up. She wore a shabby black dress and a thick grey shawl pulled tight around her stout frame. When she saw her visitors, she barked something in Russian that neither Lola nor her maid understood.
‘Do you speak French?’ Lola asked.
The woman nodded. ‘A little.’
‘So my cousin sent you, eh?’ she grumbled when Lola had explained. ‘He should know better than to be sending people to me at this time of night. Still, now you’re here, come in. Lucky I’ve got a room free.’
She jerked her thumb in the maid’s direction. ‘She can sleep in the kitchen if she wants. It’s warm by the range and there’s a straw pallet.’