The Summer Day is Done (13 page)

Olga could hardly suppress her merriment. Her shyness was forgotten. She only felt very happy.

Livadia was idyllic. Its atmosphere of tranquillity and graciousness enchanted Kirby, the Imperial family charmed him. Their modesty, their warmth and their total lack of affectation were constant. He played tennis with Nicholas, and whenever she could Alexandra showed her liking for him by requesting that he come and talk with her. The Grand Duchesses and the Tsarevich escaped from their tutor immediately at the end of every lesson to look for him and have him play games with them. He drilled
with Alexis. This put the younger girls into fits, Alexis so important and the tall Englishman so drily comical. He swore he would never know his right from his left. Alexis told him not to worry, it would come to him in the end. Old General Sikorski, a great favourite who was always at Livadia, looked on and said that as a soldier Ivan Ivanovich from England would make a very fine sailor.

Kirby bathed with the family off their private beach. Nicholas bathed whenever he could, so did the children. Alexandra did not, but sat on a beach chair under her parasol with Anna Vyrubova. The young girls were like nymphs in their bathing costumes. Tatiana was slender, Olga slender too but with perceptible shapeliness. In her costume of blue and white shyness returned. There was nowhere she could hide on the first occasion she presented herself to Kirby on the beach, but he made nothing of it, put out his hand, and they ran into the water together.

Nicholas liked the open air, he liked exercise and most of all he liked tennis. When he was not on the beach or attending to state business in his retreat, he found his way to the tennis court. Whenever he played with Kirby, Olga and Tatiana made every excuse they could to steal time off from their studies so that they could sit by the side of the court and watch. Not that they were onerously tutored at Livadia, only that there was always some subject they had to keep up with.

Tatiana was beginning to affect a sighing infatuation for the Englishman, declaring him to
be soulfully disturbing to a girl. Olga’s reaction was to suggest to Tatiana that she should not make remarks he might overhear.

‘I wish he would hear,’ said Tatiana, as they sat on the bench by the court, ‘but he is shockingly oblivious.’

‘And you are shockingly yourself.’

‘What a pity he isn’t a prince,’ said Tatiana, swinging her legs and displaying ankles amid frothy white, ‘he would do very well for me.’

‘That is silly.’

‘It isn’t,’ insisted Tatiana. ‘One has to think about these things when one is a growing young woman as I am.’

‘You aren’t, you’re only cheeky. Besides, even if he were a prince he’d never marry a chatterbox like you.’

‘Yes, he would,’ said Tatiana, ‘my chatter would amuse him and he likes being amused. You would never do for him.’

‘Oh, monkey!’ cried Olga and tweaked a tress of her sister’s auburn hair.

‘Is the zoo now open?’ asked a masculine voice. Olga hastily let go. Kirby was there, picking up a wandering ball.

‘It’s all because I’m a chatterbox,’ Tatiana said to him.

‘I like chatterboxes,’ said Kirby and returned to the court.

‘There, didn’t I say so?’ said Tatiana in triumph.

‘He only meant that he likes children,’ said Olga sweetly.

This time it was Olga who had her hair pulled.
Then Tatiana fled, Olga in swift pursuit. Shrieks pierced the tranquillity. Olga returned sedately, seated herself on the white bench again, put her elbows on her knees, cupped her chin in her hands and watched the game to its end.

In the gardens one day Alexandra said to Kirby, ‘We must all do as the children do and call you Ivan Ivanovich. It’s impossible to keep calling you Mr Kirby when you are so much our friend now, and when you’ve been very kind to a rather tedious woman who has enjoyed your conversation so much. One day I’m sure the Tsar and I will visit England again, and you shall receive us at Walton if you’re there and if you will.’

‘Your Highness,’ he said, ‘there are times, you know, when your own kindness leaves me with absolutely nothing to say. What is there I can say except that you and all the Imperial family make Livadia what it is, and that I love it very much. Your friendship I cherish and always will.’

‘You are the nicest man, Ivan Ivanovich,’ said Alexandra.

He was known as Ivan Ivanovich to all the Imperial family then. To all, that is, except Olga. She still addressed him as Mr Kirby. He did not comment on it. Her ways and her reasons were her own. They made her what she was, herself.

She came running one afternoon in chase of Tatiana, who knew only too well how deliciously to outrage her elder sister. As he turned the corner of the balustraded terrace Olga ran straight into his arms. For one unrehearsed moment she was a breathless warmth and softness against him.
He was conscious of innocence in confusion. He released her almost at once.

Her blood rushed. She turned so that her tumbled, sunbright hair hid her scarlet face.

‘I thought for a moment that Anna Vyrubova and I had collided again,’ he said lightly. ‘If you’re looking for Tatiana, she’s gone that way, but don’t say I said so. She and I are friends at the moment.’

‘Mr Kirby, I’m so sorry,’ she said, the breathlessness in her voice. ‘I’m no better than the children, rushing about like that.’

‘Highness, suppose we rush about together and surround your sister? I never act my age, either, I like to forget it.’

He put out his hand, and Anna Vyrubova, coming on to the terrace to look for Alexis, saw Olga flying over green lawns hand in hand with Ivan Ivanovich, her face turned to the sun and radiant with the joy of being alive.

How happy the Grand Duchess was. How kind Ivan Ivanovich was, spending so much of his time in company with all the children.

Livadia seemed even lovelier these days.

‘Olga darling,’ said Alexandra, ‘why do you still call him Mr Kirby? It sounds so formal now.’

‘Does it, Mama? I hadn’t thought.’

‘Well, it does, my sweet. Don’t you like him?’

‘Oh, he is quite nice and very good at tennis.’ Olga went to the window of her mother’s boudoir and looked at the distant mountain tops.

‘Oh dear, that sounds as if you don’t like him,’ said Alexandra.

‘Mama, one could not dislike Mr Kirby. Do you know, I think there’s still some snow on the mountains.’

It was very unlike Olga, thought Alexandra, to turn her back when one was speaking to her.

‘Olga my love, come here.’

Olga came slowly from the window and Alexandra saw that pink was burning her cheeks. If Alexandra was not an intellectual she did not lack perception where her family was concerned. A little dismay attacked her. She covered it with a warm, affectionate smile.

‘Darling, you’re growing up, aren’t you?’ she said. ‘Soon, in a few years Papa and I will have to think about—’

‘Oh, Mama, no! I am happy with you and Papa, I am not to be married, not even in a few years – not for many years – Mama, please.’

Alexandra felt heartache. She too had been young, she too had had her dreams.

‘Of course you don’t want to get married, darling. Who does at sixteen?’

It was as well that Mr Kirby’s visit was ending in a few days.

That evening Alexandra said to Nicholas, ‘What do you think of our new English friend now that you know him so well?’

‘Utterly splendid fellow,’ said Nicholas, enjoying his cigarette. ‘Plays a devilishly sporting game of tennis and is never a bore. Doesn’t push himself, either. Extremely discreet on politics in case he offends.’

‘Yes, he’s always very gracious,’ said Alexandra. ‘Nicky, you don’t think perhaps he
has his own reasons for being ingratiating, do you?’

‘My love,’ said Nicholas, ‘we invited him here ourselves, he didn’t arrive on our doorstep with an ingratiating smile.’

‘I confess I like him very much,’ said Alexandra, ‘but would it be terribly unkind of us if we find out a little more about him? We really know nothing at all.’

‘Ah,’ smiled Nicholas, ‘you’ve a reason for asking that.’

‘Oh, it’s nothing important,’ said Alexandra, not wanting even with Nicholas to embroil Olga in something she herself could have been mistaken about. ‘It’s just that it would be nice to know more about him.’

‘Well, he seems the most decent chap to me,’ said Nicholas, ‘but perhaps you’re right, especially if we’re to see more of him.’

‘I’ll leave it all to you, my love,’ said Alexandra contentedly.

Nicholas spoke later to one of his secretaries. Several weeks afterwards he received a written report, emanating from England. It was entirely satisfactory. John Kirby owned a cottage at Walton-on-Thames, occupied by a relative of his called Charlotte Kirby. He was the son of a deceased army colonel and was a man of independent means who had travelled extensively.

It pleased Alexandra. She liked him very much and although it was entirely unsuitable for Olga to conceive an excessive liking for him, she was sure that Olga would never forget she was the daughter of the Tsar.

It had been ten days of pure pleasure for Kirby. And it had been a revelationary and blissful ten days for Karita. She adored Livadia. It was beautiful, peaceful, and warm with charm and friendliness. Karinshka had its excitement and gaiety, its lovely and temperamental princess, but it did not have such beauty, such grandeur and yet such simplicity. Nor did it have the Imperial family.

The Emperor had spoken to her, smiled at her, complimented her. The Empress was kindness itself. And the children. Adorable. Karita loved every one of them. Because, to them, she belonged to Ivan Ivanovich, their newest best friend, she too was their friend, and sometimes they came to her and asked her to do this or that for them.

Kirby found her in his suite once with tears in her eyes.

‘Who has upset you?’ he asked.

‘Oh, no one has,’ she said. ‘It’s the children. Monsieur, I’ve heard people say things about the Imperial family and I know now they were ignorant people. Never, never, will I ever believe what people tell me, only what I see with my own eyes. Oh, I’m so glad I came with you, it has taught me so much, it has taught me that our Tsar is a good man who loves people. Now I know what I shall say to ignorant ones when they speak lies to me. I shall—’

‘Karita, you’re making a speech, but I love you for it.’

She blushed a little. It was possible, he thought,
that many people would consider themselves neither ignorant nor liars when laying the blame for Russia’s ills at the Tsar’s door.

‘Monsieur,’ said Karita, ‘it’s because of you that I’ve met the Imperial family, I am so fortunate to be here with you. Of course, that isn’t to say it isn’t beautiful at Karinshka, only that—’

‘Only that there are more ups and downs at Karinshka,’ he said.

‘I wasn’t going to say that at all,’ said Karita loyally.

‘Of course you weren’t,’ he said, ‘you are a treasure, Karita.’

He kissed her. Karita tingled. It was a very agreeable sensation.

His visit was nearly over now. He was drilling for the last time with Alexis. Alexis was giving the commands and Kirby was doing his very best. At last, he said, he knew his left from his right, and he owed it all to Alexis.

‘Oh, you’ve been jolly good, you know,’ beamed the boy.

The Grand Duchesses, white-bloused and blue-skirted, were as usual an hilarious and irreverent audience. Marie declared that Ivan Ivanovich really was the most comical driller poor Alexis had ever had to contend with. Tatiana said that he was fascinatingly droll and that she was head over heels in love with him.

‘When I’m married to the King of Denmark,’ she said, ‘I shall invite him to dinner every night.’

‘Darling,’ said Olga, ‘I’m sure nothing would please the King of Denmark more than being
invited to dinner every night by his own wife.’

‘Goose,’ said Tatiana, ‘I meant I’d invite Ivan, then he’d spend all evening kissing my hand.’

‘Mama and Papa wouldn’t think much of that,’ said Marie.

‘Nor would the King of Denmark,’ said Olga.

‘And how awful for Ivan Ivanovich,’ said Anastasia, ‘fancy having to kiss someone’s hand while everyone else was eating all that scrumptious food.’

‘Not just someone’s hand,’ said Tatiana, ‘mine.’

‘Oh, help,’ said Anastasia.

‘Tasha, are you dreadfully, dreadfully in love?’ asked Marie.

‘She’s dreadfully everything,’ said Olga.

‘No one, simply no one,’ declared Tatiana, ‘has any idea of how terribly one suffers when one is in love.’ She waved gaily to Kirby. He waved back. Alexis was aghast. Didn’t Ivan Ivanovich understand that at drill a fellow simply did not wave at people, especially girls?

‘Great Scott, what a trial I am to both of us, Alexis,’ said Kirby.

‘Oh, I don’t mind too much,’ said Alexis magnanimously.

‘Oh, jolly good,’ said the much-improved recruit, ‘and I tell you what, give me a right incline and a couple of about-turns and then I’ll be too dizzy to wave to anyone.’

There was hysteria at that. Olga murmured, ‘Oh, dear delicious Mr Kirby,’ and then blushed crimson as Tatiana slyly peeped at her.

‘What does love really feel like?’ Anastasia asked earnestly of Tatiana.

‘One just can’t eat,’ said Tatiana. ‘Isn’t that awful, being quite starving and yet unable to eat a thing because of love?’

‘Never mind,’ said Olga, ‘when your love has departed you’ll be able to go back to eating like a horse.’

‘When he’s gone I shall be quite inconsolable,’ said Tatiana, who could remain immune to teasing, ‘but we shall write long passionate letters to each other, of course.’

‘How lovely,’ said Marie with a sigh, and Anastasia, who had a gift for histrionics, gave a very creditable imitation of love awaiting a passionate post.

Olga was suddenly wistful. He was leaving tomorrow.

He was going. The Tsar had already said a friendly goodbye to him. The rest of the Imperial family, together with Anna Vyrubova, were on the broad terrace at the top of the steps to see him on his way. Karita, having made her curtsey, stood to one side while he said goodbye to all of them. Anna was charming, Alexis kissed him. Tatiana gave him her hand and sighed. Marie was sweetly affectionate. Anastasia, giggling, kissed him too. Olga wanted to smile but her lips were stiff. Alexandra was gracious.