“But it did not last long, I imagine?”
“Of course not; I was one of a chain of young men. After two or three months she got tired of me, and decided to pick up another boy, so she allowed her husband to catch us. He was used to it, it happened many times before, and he played the part of the injured husband very well. When the rather mild scandal died down, I did not suffer much. My father registered me to a good university, gave me a lecture about discretion, told me that I was a fool to consent to go into the priesthood if I did not feel the vocation, and that was that… in the end it was a blessing since I was much more suited to the academic life than to the priesthood.”
“Which city did you live in?”
“We lived in Saint Petersburg. I never got used to calling it Petrograd…”
“Grigory, my husband, was from there too. He loved it, told me it was a lovely town.”
“It was a fairytale city, Madame Koska. Imagine priceless art collections, refined cuisine, every sort of cultural entertainment, theater, concerts, ballet, opera. Balls and parties and elaborate champagne picnics… Visualize elegantly dressed people strolling in the parks, or by the River Neva, walking their magnificent dogs, often four on a leash; the hounds could be as tall as small ponies. It was a sophisticated, worldly lifestyle, not at all like provincial Moscow.”
“And then came the Revolution and you were uprooted.” said Madame Koska.
“Yes, it was hard at first. But after the horrible conditions on the ship, the months I had to stay in Constantinople with the other uprooted refugees, and nearly starving in Paris, my life in London seems to be almost a luxury. At least I have steady work, good friends, and while not exactly peace of mind, at least acceptance.”
“Much like Madame Golitsyn,” said Madame Koska. “Sounds as if you took the same emotional journey.”
“It was the exact same journey in every way,” said Mr. Korolenko. “I met Madame Golitsyn on the ship… we all thought everything would be soon over, and we could return to our old life.”
“She never told me much about the journey,” said Madame Koska. “I don’t want to ask in case she might be saddened by it.”
“She behaved marvelously even under the horrible privations. Most of the noble ladies showed absolutely amazing strength,” said Mr. Korolenko.
“So very difficult for these gently brought up ladies,” said Madame Koska.
“It was surprising how well they stood up to it. For us, the émigrés from Saint Petersburg, it was a very long road. We had to go south—first to Kiev, then Odessa, and crossing the borders was the worst. They confiscated everything, including clothes, left us with what we had on our backs. And still, the ladies did not lose their sense of humor. I remember one woman making a joke that she saw a poor woman selling a piece of curtain. She said, ‘I just saw her pulling it off the window. It’s fresh, even the nails are there. Don’t you think it could make a lovely evening gown?’ Yes… I suppose they could keep their sense of humor because we were all so convinced the whole thing was temporary. Still, they had courage. When we got to Odessa, by the way, they rushed to the hair dressers and manicurists.”
“Well, certainly,” said Madame Koska. “One must keep one’s dignity, and unless your hair and nails are done, you can’t… and where did you end up?”
“Constantinople, though the issue of papers forced some ships to go further, to Egypt, Greece, Malta, what have you. Some were lucky to be able to get to Marseille. The stay in Constantinople was a real hardship. I mean, we needed to trade whatever objects we had left for food and water. It’s an Asiatic city, really… the living conditions were such that I will not describe them to you. Eventually we managed to get to Marseille, and then to Paris.”
“I am impressed by this story. I always knew, of course, that my friend was not only courageous, but quite resourceful and adaptable.”
“Yes, she adapted well to the new life, at least so it seems,” said Mr. Korolenko.
“So it seems? She is doing very well as a high-end caterer,” said Madame Koska. “Her business is excellent and constantly growing.”
“Ah, yes,” said Mr. Korolenko. “But how does she really feel about it? Should the opportunity arise, would she not welcome a life of luxury and ease again?”
“What sort of opportunity do you mean, Mr. Korolenko?”
“Let me see. Suppose… yes, suppose she could do a little service, a connection, an introduction, and in doing so secure a steady, large income for life… would she not be willing to do so?”
Madame Koska looked sharply at Mr. Korolenko. He was sitting quietly on the bench, looking thoughtfully at his hands as was his custom when thinking. She wondered if he meant to throw a hint at her, something that she did not grasp, about Madame Golitsyn. No, what strange fact could she learn about her friend, her confidant, that she did not know already? That was nonsense.
“No,” she said with determination. “I don’t think she would. I think she has overcome her past trials and is quite ready to live in the present. Come to think of it, this is a trait that impressed me in many of the noble Russian ladies I met in Paris, too. They were sad, they would have wanted very much to see the Tsar restored, but once they realized it could not be, they were courageous and practical and learned to live in the present. The only person I know who does not seem to adapt is Natalya Saltykov. She mourns the past, and since she is so timid, she is finding it difficult to steel herself to the realities of being a regular person without the support of the noble title.”
“Poor girl,” said Mr. Korolenko with sympathy.
“But she is getting better, I think. She is beginning to realize that she has a great skill that can help her not only survive, but succeed. I sense that she is beginning to feel pride in it, and from that pride, self-sufficiency will arise, I hope. She is a good person.”
“Yes… but I have never trusted weak, dependent people, Madame Koska. In my opinion, they are the most dangerous. When they think they are cornered, they strike very hard, just once, but it sometimes is sufficient to cause great damage.” He stopped talking as Gretchen was advancing on them. “Hello, Gretchen. Did you have a nice lunch with your friend?” he said.
“You look very vell, my dear,” said Madame Koska.
“That is because I am in heaven! Uncle gave me my gift early this morning so I could wear it to lunch to show my friend. Look at it, Madame Koska! What do you think?”
“It is such a beautiful ring, Miss Van der Hoven,” said Madame Koska.
Gretchen moved her hand back and forth, admiring the ruby in the heavy gold ring. “Isn’t it? Just what I wanted! It’s so fashionable.”
“I don’t know enough about quality of gems to be called an expert,” said Madame Koska, “But this must be a very good stone. It has such saturation of color.”
“I must show it to Miss Saltykov after the holiday,” said Gretchen, still looking at her hand. “She told me she knows everything about gemstones.” Mr. Korolenko and Madame Koska glanced at each other with surprise.
“Does she?” asked Madame Koska. “How did she become such an expert?”
“She said that she learned it by living in the Tsar’s court; she had access to seeing and studying both old and new designs, and it was like a hobby for her. She said that most of the time she could recognize the jewelry house by just looking at a piece.”
“Quite a valuable skill,” said Mr. Korolenko. “I am sure it will be useful in her career.”
“I don’t think she wants to move to the jewelry business,” said Gretchen. “She is too happy doing her fantastic embroidery and beading. She loves working for you, Madame Koska. But then again, we all do. The atelier is such fun! Well, I must go. I promised Auntie I will help with the flowers for tonight…” and off she ran.