The Countess of the Revolution by Lana Kortchik

Author:Lana Kortchik [Kortchik, Lana]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Published: 2022-08-01T12:00:00+00:00

Trembling, tears in her eyes, Sophia read Nikolai’s letter again and again, until she could open her mouth and recite it word for word. She memorised it like a poem, like a lullaby to hum to herself when it was dark and she couldn’t sleep. When she heard the key turn in the front door, she hid the letter in the bodice of her dress and straightened the mattress.

‘Sophia, there you are. I waited for you to come for lunch,’ exclaimed Dmitry when he saw her in the corridor.

Her hand on her chest where the letter was hidden, she said, her voice flat, ‘Regina is in town. I ran into her on my walk.’

‘That’s good. That will cheer you up, having her here.’

‘She told me some interesting things.’

‘What did she tell you?’

‘Nikolai is alive. But you already knew that.’

His face seemed to deflate a little. ‘I found out yesterday. I was waiting for the right time to tell you.’

‘You found out a week ago at the Sudakovs’. That’s when you received this letter.’ She waved it in front of him but when he tried to take it from her, she quickly hid it. She had no intention of ever letting it go. ‘Why did you lie to me? Why did you tell me the letter was from Count Butylov?’

‘I didn’t lie. That letter was from Count Butylov. Here it is.’ He pulled another letter from his commode. She must have overlooked it when she was searching the room. The writing on this letter was nothing like Nikolai’s writing, thin, large and leaning to one side. ‘Question is, why were you going through my things?’

‘Because I knew you were hiding something. Why didn’t you just tell me your brother was alive? The minute you found out, why didn’t you say something?’

‘I should have. I’m sorry.’

He took a step in her direction, but Sophia moved swiftly away, storming off to her room and locking the door.

***

Regina and Sophia were strolling past the shops and the local library, where Sophia had been borrowing most of her books, no longer able to afford them, past the boys selling newspapers and shouting out headlines.

‘I wish I never saw another newspaper again for as long as I live,’ said Sophia. ‘Every day, it’s anarchy, uprisings, murder, destruction, hunger and death. This is the country we live in.’

As if he overheard her, the boy screamed at the top of his voice, ‘Murder on Anichkov Bridge! Twelve officers stabbed to death!’

Regina said, ‘In Petrograd, you don’t have to read the papers. It’s right in front of you. Properties are attacked, people murdered for their political beliefs. The housing committee has meetings every day on how to protect Petrograd families, while people are arming themselves with guns and rifles and standing guard outside their houses, like it’s war.’

‘It is war! The revolution is war against all of us.’

‘That’s what I don’t understand about the revolution. We had one type of power above us and they didn’t like it, so they overthrew it.

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