by Stacy Gregg
“You are too soft. They are just animals,” Irina would say when she found Valentina in their caravan, her cheeks wet with tears.
A scrawny waif with hollow eyes and grey skin, Irina had the rare ability to be double-jointed in both her elbows and knees, which made her a brilliant contortionist. She had been ten years old when she ran away from the orphanage to join the Moscow Spectacular.
“I have fallen on my feet here,” Irina would often say. It was an ironic turn of phrase because in fact Irina never fell on her feet – she usually fell on her backside. This was why Sergei would not let her even be Valentina’s understudy on the high wire. The girl had no poise or balance, so that even the clowns held their breath with concern every time she went up the trapeze.
Sergei had put Irina in Valentina’s caravan and they soon became best friends. Irina, however, was not an easy room-mate. Valentina would often find her practising her contortionist’s tricks, curled up like a pretzel on the floor, or walking on her hands and using her feet to make a cup of gypsy tea. At night they slept in twin beds side by side and Valentina would often be woken by Irina whimpering in her sleep. The whimpers would grow more intense until their caravan echoed with Irina’s sobs, growing louder and more panic-stricken until suddenly the girl would sit bolt upright and start screaming. Then Valentina would hurry over to her friend’s bedside and hug her, rocking her from side to side until her night terrors subsided.
Once, after a particularly bad episode, Valentina had asked her friend what it was that she dreamt about that was so frightening.
“Oh, but it is not a dream!” Irina said. “That is the problem, don’t you see? I am not dreaming. I am remembering. In my mind I am back at the orphanage. I can smell the stench of the babies in their dirty nappies. I hear the hungry cries of the other children and I see the sickly ones lying in their cots alongside me. That is when I wake up and thank God that I escaped and found my way here.”
Irina thought the circus was the best place in the world and never understood Valentina’s urge to run away from it.
One night, Valentina had shown Irina the sheet of paper that she kept hidden beneath the loose floorboard in their caravan. On it there was a picture of a horse, a very beautiful creature being ridden in a grand arena. The rider wore a top hat and tails, and the horse had its mane braided. Beneath the image there was writing.
“What does it say?” Irina asked.
Valentina could not read the words but she knew what the sheet of paper said – she had memorised it long ago. “It is the application form for the Federation Dressage Academy,” she said. “This is the greatest dressage school in the whole of Russia. The Olympic team train here. This is where Sasha and I are going to go.”
Irina looked at her, totally baffled. “But you do not ride dressage! You are circus!”
Valentina shrugged. “I taught Sasha how to stand on his hind legs and dance; how much harder can these dressage tricks be?”
“Sergei would never let you go,” Irina looked worried. “Oh, Valentina, please do not have such dreams! They will only disappoint you.”
Valentina loved Irina and felt terribly sad that the fear of ending up back in the orphanage was enough to keep the girl at the circus. Sergei’s clever manipulations meant Irina had lost all hope of any other kind of life. And Valentina could not persuade her friend to think otherwise. When the time to leave came, it would be only her and Sasha, and she dared not tell anyone else.
That night when Valentina got back from cleaning up the tigers’ cages Irina was already asleep. She snored loudly, snuffling and wheezing like an old man. Valentina worked quietly, so that her room-mate would not waken, as she jimmied up the floorboard beside her bed and pulled out the treasured piece of paper. She traced her fingers over the words, remembering how her mother had read them out to her, with Valentina on her knee.
“This is your destiny, milochka,” she had told her daughter. “You will have a big life, a grand life! You will go to places and see things that will astound you. You cannot even imagine the world that is out there waiting for you, Valentina. You are going to be a superstar far greater than this circus has ever seen.”
Valentina put her hand beneath the floorboards once more and this time she lifted out a velvet bag with a tasselled drawstring. Inside was the only other memento she had of her mother, the gift she had given her before she died. Apart from Sasha, the contents of this bag meant more to her than anything else in the world.
In the dim light of her bedside lamp, Valentina sat down on her bed, clasping the velvet bag to her chest. On the wall by her pillow she had hung a small mirror, slightly cracked in one corner. She looked at her reflection and saw a dirty, unloved circus girl. Then, from the velvet bag she withdrew the necklace. She raised her hands behind her neck and fastened the silver filigree clasp so that the black teardrop-shaped stone fell at her throat. In the cracked mirror, the magnificent necklace sparkled brightly, and Valentina was suddenly in a giant stadium. There were thousands of people rising to their feet, applauding, and Sasha danced beneath her, glorious and perfect as he trotted to the music.
Valentina knew in that moment that this was no a dream. It was real and true, and all she had to do was make a leap of faith. Throw herself into the air and forget the safety net. Somehow, she would make it happen.
CHAPTER 3
Black Diamond
The arrival of two Siberian tigers at the Khrenovsky estate was the talk of the palace and the entire staff gathered on the lawn to greet the new additions to Count Orlov’s menagerie.
Anna stood beside Katia as the tigers arrived in a steel-barred crate on a carriage towed by eight horses. Three times the size of the Amur leopards, the striped beasts swiped their paws menacingly at the assembled crowd and let loose growls that sent the younger maids running and shrieking across the lawn. The servant boys fell back from the cage in terror too. Only Vasily kept calm, walking right past the snarling beasts to unharness the carriage horses.
The horses had been rendered rake-thin and exhausted by their long journey. “Poor things.” Vasily shook his head in dismay. “How gruelling it must have been to hear the constant, inescapable growl of tigers at their heels no matter how fast they ran … It must have driven them mad.”
“They will be all right, won’t they?” Anna asked.
Vasily looked even more serious than usual. “I will do my best for them, Lady Anna,” was all he said. While Vasily led the weakened carriage horses away to the stables the serfs pondered the problem of how to unload the tigers without getting near them. Eventually they decided to use wooden poles, passed through the steel-barred crate so that ten men on either side could lift it in unison. They would then carry the steel crate and the tigers inside it to the gilt cage that would be their new home. Tempting slabs of meat had been placed in their golden prison to lure the tigers from one cage to another.
If Count Orlov had been at Khrenovsky he might have ordered that the tigers live in the palace, despite the terror that the man-eaters inspired. Fortunately the Empress had sent her Lord Admiral of the Black Seas to destroy the Turkish navy, and until the Count returned, the tigers were confined in their gilt cage on the lawn.
Even after the beasts were behind golden bars the serfs were afraid of them. At mealtimes they refused to get close and instead would throw the bones from a distance at the tigers. Soon there was a scattering of meat bones that had bounced off the bars, littered around the grass surrounding the cage.
Only one person in the palace was brave enough to approach them. Each day, Anna would quietly creep closer and closer to the tiger cage. She calmly faced the snarling beasts, letting them get slowly accustomed to her presence. And then one day she summoned up the courage to pick up one of the wasted bones and gently push it between the bars.
If her pulse quickened at this act, it was purely from excitement at being so close to such glorious creatures. Anna began to feed the tigers daily, and afterwards she would sit cross-legged right outs
ide their cage as if they were the sun and she was basking in their light. She loved the feline grace of their movements, the way they padded about their enclosure, so enormous and yet so silent, their hips swaying gently, long stripy tails trailing out behind them. Her heart was so full of joy at their beauty there was no room left in it for fear.
The tigers seemed to sense Anna’s kindred nature. Veronika and Valery, named so by Anna, lay down on the floor of their golden prison, barely twitching their tails while she lay on her belly on the other side of the bars. They were utterly content in each other’s company. Unlike the bears, the tigers also seemed to be well matched. Anna could see from the way they rubbed against one another and gave each other playful cuffs with their enormous paws that they had a happy relationship.
It was easy to tell them apart. The male tiger was far larger and his face was broader. The female was smooth and sleek with a distinctly regal beauty. The black stripes of her arched eyebrows reminded Anna of the kohl brows her mother drew on as part of her make-up for dinner parties.
She had never told her mother about what had happened the night she tried on the necklace. She had put the black diamond hastily back in its case, and since then the stone had remained there. The next time it was brought out, her mother would place it round Anna’s neck herself. However, that moment would not bring Anna the joy that she expected. Instead, it was the worst moment of her life.
Winter had set in at the Khrenovsky estate. Snow covered the topiary on the palace lawn and the gilt cages were draped in heavy tarpaulins to provide some shelter for the animals within. The bears and the foxes were in hibernation. The tigers, who lived snowbound for most of the year in the wild, took it in their stride. Inside the palace, the exotic creatures were kept warm by the roaring stoves, the fires stoked constantly.
“We must bundle you up,” the Countess would tell Anna as she wrapped her in woollens and furs before she was allowed outside, “otherwise you shall fall ill.”
However, it was not Anna but the Countess who succumbed to sickness. In the week before Anna’s tenth birthday her mother developed a raging fever that drove her to bed. By the third day, when the Countess was still bedridden, Anna began to worry.
“We should send for the doctors,” she told Ivan. “Mama is getting worse. It might be pneumonia.”
“So you have diagnosed her yourself?” her older brother sneered. “Well, we don’t need the doctors now, do we?”
“Ivan!” Anna said. “This is serious.”
Ivan rolled his eyes. “The snowfall is too heavy – the doctors will never come in this weather. Let the housemaids do some work for once and care for her.”
Anna couldn’t help but think that her brother secretly delighted in their mother’s illness. With their father away at sea fighting the Turks, Ivan considered himself in charge. With the Countess confined to her room and Katia in constant attendance on her, Ivan demanded the kitchen should throw away the dinner they had made and produce his favourite meatballs instead. When the food came he pushed aside his cutlery and ate greedily with his hands, smearing grease on his shirt front.
“Come on, Anna,” he taunted her. “Let’s have some fun for once. How about a swordfight?”
“No, thanks.” Anna tried to leave the table.
“Where do you think you are going?” Ivan’s mood shifted suddenly from playful to threatening. “If you won’t play, you can at least stay and keep me company.”
And so she was forced to sit in her chair while he grabbed his sabre and leapt around on the dining-room table, skidding in his jackboots on the polished wood, kicking plates and glasses aside so that they crashed to the floor, laughing like a madman.
Anna watched her brother anxiously and felt gnawing panic rise in her. While Ivan played master, their mother’s health was growing worse by the hour.
“We need to send for doctors,” Anna tried insisting again.
“All right!” Ivan groaned. “Only will you stop complaining? You are giving me a sore head.”
By the time the physicians arrived the situation was grave.
“Send a messenger to your father, Count Orlov,” Anna overheard the head physician telling Ivan. “He must return immediately if he wants to see his wife alive.”
As the Countess’s condition deteriorated Katia was a constant presence at her mistress’s side, mopping the Countess’s brow and holding her hand to ease the pain.
It was Katia who came to Anna, her face ashen, and told her that her mother was asking for her. Anna found herself walking as if in a dream, towards her mother’s chambers. The Countess looked so thin and frail from her illness, but still beautiful.
“Is that you, milochka?” Anna’s mother raised her head from the pillow and put out her hand to clasp her daughter’s fingers.
“It’s me, Mama,” Anna said, her voice trembling.
The Countess smiled. “Dearest one. Come here and take my hand.”
Anna was surprised by the coldness of her mother’s fingers, like icicles against her skin.
“Milochka,” her mother instructed. “I need you to do something for me.”
“Anything, Mama.”
“My black diamond necklace. You will find it in the top drawer of my dresser. Bring it to me?”
Anna did as her mother instructed, carrying over the necklace in its velvet case and placing it on the bedside.
“Open the box,” the Countess instructed.
Anna carefully prised it open and the Countess reached in and took out the priceless jewel. “The Orlov Diamond,” she said, “has been in our family for many centuries. My mother gave it to me and her mother before her …” She turned to Anna.
“And now milochka, it will be yours.”
Anna’s eyes filled with tears. “No, Mama, I do not want it any more.”
“Anna.” Her mother’s voice was gentle. “Please, let me see how it looks on you.”
Not knowing what else to do, Anna bowed her head in obedience as the Countess weakly raised herself up off the pillows to clasp the necklace round her daughter’s pale neck.
“So beautiful!” the Countess breathed. And then she added, “But it is not the first time you have worn it, is it? That night in my room. You tried it on.”
Anna nodded. “I did.”
“So you already know that this is no ordinary necklace.” The Countess nodded wisely. “Well, know this too, dear one. You must never seek to understand its power, and do not try to control it. Past and present and future all lie within this necklace, but it is the stone that decides what you will see.”
The Countess looked very sad, and then gripped her daughter’s hand even more tightly. “Anna,” the Countess said. “Your father …”
“He is coming, Mama,” Anna tried to reassure her. “We have sent for him, he is on his way!”
The Countess shook her head. “No, my dear one, I know he is not. He will not come for me.” The Countess’s expression was dark. “I know your brother too. He is so different from you, Anna. I wonder how it is that I could have raised two children, one so lovely and one so …” the Countess drew a sharp breath and began to cough. Anna had to help her sit up, adjusting the pillows so that she could breathe again.
“Look to Katia,” the Countess whispered the words. “Katia will care for you. If you are ever in any doubt about what to do, go to her. You can trust her with your life …”
“Mama …” The tears rolled down Anna’s cheeks. “Please do not talk like this. You are going to be fine, you will get well again …”
It was Katia who found them.
Anna was slumped and sobbing, still clutching her mother’s cool hand. Katia raised the white sheet of death over the Countess’s face and hugged and comforted Anna. Ivan was nowhere to be found.
“I went hunting,” he told Anna when she asked where he had been. “It would have made no difference if I had been here, would it? It was always you that she loved.”
Anna was shocked. “Do you re
ally think Mama didn’t love you?”
Ivan laughed harshly. “What do I care? Anyway it was a good hunt. I bagged a deer. So don’t try and make me feel guilty about it.”
“You do not care that she died without you or father beside her?” Anna said.
“Our father is Admiral Lord Commander of the Black Sea,” Ivan sniffed. “He does not run to his wife’s bedside like a weakling when there is a war to be won.”
With no mother and no sign of their father’s return, Ivan took it upon himself to rule the Khrenovsky estate. He started wearing the Count’s greatcoat inside the house, even though he must have been baking hot. The huge garment swamped his lean thirteen-year-old frame. He would stalk the corridors, laughing to himself and barking ridiculous orders at the serfs. And the servants began to call him “Ivan the Terrible” behind his back. As for Anna, she avoided her brother as best she could, spending most of her time down at the stables with the horses and Vasily. It was there that she heard the news that her father was finally coming home.
The war, in fact, had been over for some time. Count Orlov could have sailed home several months ago, but instead had delayed his return by deciding to travel overland. The reason for his change of plans was a horse.
“His name is Smetanka,” Vasily told Anna. “It has taken his men almost a year to walk him through the mountains from Turkey into Russia. The Count joined them on the coast of the Black Sea and he is personally escorting the horse on the final leg of the journey home.”
“My father didn’t come home to my mother because he was walking a horse?”
Vasily tried to soften the blow. “Smetanka is not ordinary horse. He is purebred Arabian stallion. They say he cost Count Orlov 60,000 roubles!”
The price of Count Orlov’s Arabian was the talk of the palace. At the stables the grooms spoke of nothing else. “What kind of horse could be worth such money?” Yuri, the head groom, could not disguise his scorn. “I could buy a hundred of the best stallions in Russia for that!”
“If he is truly great stallion he will be worth it,” Vasily replied.
