‘Good afternoon, Jim,’ smiled Militza, speaking in English. ‘Is her Imperial Majesty in her boudoir?’
‘She is indeed, Your Imperial Highness.’ He bowed and Militza smiled; she found the way he spoke enchanting.
‘Going home soon?’ asked Stana.
‘Not for a while yet, Your Imperial Highness,’ he replied, moving to open the door.
‘When you do, please bring back some preserves,’ implored Stana.
‘Sure thing, Your Imperial Highness,’ he said, opening the door.
The sisters entered the boudoir to find Anna sitting in one of the pale purple upright chairs, a cup of tea in one hand, an egg sandwich in the other, while Alix was lying prone on a divan, dressed in a pale high-necked day dress, her legs covered in a fine, cream-coloured blanket, her head propped up with the lace pillows.
‘Ah!’ She managed a little wave in the direction of an attentive footman. ‘More tea.’
‘How are you?’ began Militza, bending down to kiss her on the cheek. ‘Is it your heart? Or your back?’
‘Have you heard from him?’ asked Alix, grabbing hold of Militza’s hands. ‘Our Friend?’ She shifted around on her divan. ‘When’s Our Friend coming back? Anna had a letter last week.’
‘I did,’ the lady-in-wating said, nodding, taking the corner off her sandwich.
‘He talks of building his church and of praying with his family,’ said Alix. ‘He says he’s busy, says he’s neglected his duties. But he doesn’t say when he is coming back.’
‘I think it may be better for him to stay away at the moment,’ suggested Militza.
‘Better for whom?’ Alix sounded a little agitated.
‘Him,’ added Stana. ‘He needs to be with his family. He has not seen them in a while. His wife, Praskovya, his three children.’
‘But we’re his family,’ Alix replied.
‘I am sure he feels that,’ agreed Militza, patting the back of the Tsarina’s hand, ‘but I think he’s missing them.’
‘Let’s bring them all to St Petersburg!’
‘I’m sure he’d love that,’ replied Stana, smiling as she glanced out of the window.
Something had caught her eye and she laughed and gestured for Militza to turn around. Through the large, almost floor-length window, the girls were playing on the terrace, sliding sideways, skidding on the thin ice over the frosted paving stones, their arms extended, pulling faces through the window. First Olga, then Maria, followed by Anastasia and Tatiana – each more ridiculous and hilarious. Maria’s was perhaps the most amusing, with her tongue out and her eyes crossed; she was by far the naughtiest of the girls. Their laughter was contagious. By the time they slid past for the second time, their gloved hands in the air, their faces contorted, everyone in the room was giggling. Then suddenly little Alexei joined in. Arms open wide, he slid past the glass pane, grinning like a fool.
‘He shouldn’t be doing that!’ Alix said yet laughed despite herself. ‘But look at him. He is so silly!’
‘Derevenko is outside,’ said Anna.
‘There he goes again!’ Alix smiled, pointing at her son. ‘So funny!’
‘I didn’t know he was such a comedian,’ laughed Stana.
‘No,’ agreed Militza.
Then it was back to Olga, who was perhaps a little too old to be fooling around on the ice. And then suddenly it was Alexei again. He skidded, grinned, threw his arms in the air and then slipped, crashing down on the terrace, landing on his forehead. Alix screamed and leapt off the divan, running towards the window.
‘Alexei!’ she yelled, pounding on the glass with her fists. ‘Alexei! Alexei!’
Militza ran after her, Stana right behind. They stared through the window as Derevenko ran towards the boy and snatched him off the ground. Immediately, blood poured out of the gash on his head.
‘Oh my God! Oh my God!’ Alix was hysterical, banging harder and harder on the window. ‘Alexei! Alexei!’ she shouted. The boy turned to look at his mother, too shocked to cry, too bewildered to do anything as the blood poured down his face. ‘Do something!’ implored Alix, turning to look at Militza. ‘Do something! He’s going to die!’
For the next ten minutes there was total chaos as servants ran, Alix wailed and Jim Hercules rushed outside, bringing the girls in. By the time Derevenko carried the boy into the Mauve Boudoir, Alexei’s face was so swollen and covered in blood that he was no longer able to open his eyes.
‘My darling, my darling,’ wept Alix, placing her son on her divan. ‘What have you done to yourself?’ Covering him in her blanket, she immediately set about trying to stem the dreadful flow of blood with her handkerchief. ‘Get me warm water,’ she shouted. ‘Towels!’
By now the room was full of people, running to and fro, trying to help.
‘The blood!’ exclaimed Anna. ‘I have never seen so much blood!’ Her round face blanched as she collapsed into a chair.
Stana glanced over at Militza. The blood would not stop. The boy was now screaming in agony. They had to do something.
‘Is he all right, Mama?’ asked Olga tentatively, her hands twisted with concern.
‘Of course he’s not – and I blame you all. You know he is not allowed to play around outside! He is to be carried at all times!’
Olga withdrew, as did the other girls; this was clearly not the first time they’d been blamed.
‘Has Botkin been called?’ Alix asked, looking around the room with her haunted, pale eyes.
‘Yes, Your Imperial Majesty,’ confirmed a footman.
‘Where is Our Friend?’ She started to sob. ‘Where is he!’ The tears poured down her cheeks as she started to rock back and forth on the edge of the divan, hugging herself.
‘Hush, Mama,’ Alexei whispered through his dry, swollen, bloodied lips.
‘You hush, you hush,’ she said, sniffing, gently patting his arm. ‘It’ll be all right, you’ll be all right.’ She dabbed tentatively at the blood that continued to seep from the cut on his face. ‘You’re strong and God will look after you.’
Militza indicated to Stana that she should follow her out of the room.
‘What are we going to do?’ Militza hissed as soon as they were out of earshot. ‘He looks terrible. And the blood is unceasing.’
‘I know.’ Stana’s eyes were wide. It was the first time either of them had witnessed ‘an incident’ at close quarters.
‘It’s my fault,’ whispered Militza, her hand shaking a little.
‘No, it’s not.’
‘I sent him away.’
‘You didn’t!’ Stana took hold of her sister by the shoulders and stared into her eyes. ‘You reported your well-founded concerns to the authorities and they are investigating him. You have not sent him away. He has chosen to leave town while the authorities look into his actions. That is all. You did not do anything or say anything. You have not sent anyone anywhere, he went of his own accord.’
‘As I knew he would!’
‘No one knows it was you who reported him and no one ever will.’