He glared at me, and I forced myself not to shift my eyes away from him. After what seemed a long time, he gave a snort, then mumbled a few derogatory words about women as he spun around and marched out of the room. I waited until I heard the sound of the main door closing to find the nearest chair so I could sit down.
“Now, don’t cry,” Galina said to Irina Igorneeva as she adjusted the woman’s blanket. “I’ll bring the baby to you. You don’t want to upset the child.”
The woman gave a weak smile and wiped her tears. I got back up and hurried out of the ward, wanting to go hide in the office, not trusting my voice to speak to anyone. I could manage to stand up to those men, but once they were gone, I always felt sick to my stomach, the sort of sick I got that threatened a major headache. I didn’t want any of the other nurses to know. They expected me to be just like my mother, but I was not nearly as strong as she had been.
I had only been in the office a few minutes when Galina came back. “There’s someone to see you.” She was smiling. She wouldn’t be smiling if it were another problem person.
I had to make sure. I didn’t think I could face one more. “Not another husband, I hope.”
“No, a young American. I think he said he met you at a party last night but his French is very bad. He’s, um, quite an energetic young man. He shook my hand so hard I thought my teeth would come loose.”
A young American. The journalist. How had he found me? And why?
“I’ll go talk to him,” I said as I got up. “Thank you.”
When I reached the main hall, the man saw me and broke into a grin. “Hello, Miss Mason! Carter Jenkins. From the Tamms’ party?”
“Yes, hello, Mr. Jenkins. I’m … I’m surprised to see you here.”
His grin grew bigger and he did a little motion with his feet like he was dancing a few steps of a jig. It was a strange action, but he acted like he didn’t even realize he was doing it. “I did some investigating,” he said. “That’s what I do, you know, and I heard all about this little hospital. I thought it would make quite a story for the folks back home, about your mother starting it and all. Since she was an American and here you are an American too, still running it and just a girl. That’s sure something!”
The man radiated so much energy it was a bit overwhelming. “I don’t know,” I said. “I don’t think it’s all that interesting.” I’d have thought he would want to be covering political news.
“Oh, it is interesting. Most Americans have no idea how many of their compatriots are even living here. And with revolution about to break out any day, you just carry on. I like to do special-interest features. My father—he’s the editor—says I have a real knack for them. I wouldn’t bother any of the patients. When you have time, I could ask you a few questions and maybe look around a little to be able to describe the place?”
“There’s not much to see. It’s a very small hospital with room for sixteen patients and their babies, and right now we only have a few patients.”
“That’s still something! And having a hospital in a mansion is something too.” He pointed up at the intricately decorated ceiling. “This doesn’t look like any hospital I’ve ever seen!” One of the nurses walked by, and Carter stuck out his hand. “Hi there. I’m Carter Jenkins. Nice to meet you!”
The poor woman gave a start. Americans were so much more effusive than Russians, and I didn’t know how many Americans this particular nurse had ever met. She took his hand somewhat gingerly. He got a firm grip on it and pumped her arm up and down. “I hear you are doing good work here.”
“She doesn’t speak English,” I said, and then translated his words to her, adding, “Don’t mind him. Think of him as a big American puppy.”
“I hear a baby crying,” she murmured to me, pulling her hand out of his and hurrying off.
“I need to learn me some Russian,” Carter said. “We don’t have to make it a formal interview, Miss Mason. What do you like to do for fun? Say, do you like skating? I hear that’s very popular here. We can go skating and I can sneak in a few questions along the way.”
I loved skating, but I hadn’t had time for it in a long time. I was about to say no when Hap’s words came back to me. Dmitri thought you were old. We told him you used to be fun.
All of a sudden I really wanted to go. “Tomorrow,” I blurted out. “Yes, I’ll go skating with you. Tomorrow.”
“Well, that’s wonderful!” Carter said. “I’ll come by your house. Just tell me an address.”
“We’re on the French Embankment, number twenty-four.”
He wrote it down in a little notebook. “Now, how about I have a little look around?”
The man was so eager I gave in and showed him around the hospital. Though none of the patients spoke any English, they didn’t appear to mind his presence. They actually seemed to enjoy it, because he really was like a large puppy, excited over the smallest of things. He asked so many questions I eventually had to shoo him out the door so we could get some work done.
After he left, I spent the next several hours getting the books in order. When I finally headed home, the streets were still crowded, which was strange because it was so cold. Many people didn’t appear to be going anywhere. They were just milling about in small groups. Some had started fires on the sidewalks and were huddled around them. There were no sounds of laughter or even loud voices. I walked faster, wanting to be home in the light and the warmth.
A small group of men from the Horse Guard rode by in perfect formation, not speaking, the only sound the clinking of the bridles and the soft clopping of the horses’ hooves muffled by the snow-covered streets, which for some reason no one had attempted to clear.
I had a hard time imagining Dmitri among those men. Did he miss the comradeship? Pavel had spoken of his fellow soldiers all the time. They were closer to him than his own family. Dmitri seemed too aloof for that, but perhaps it was because he’d been at university first.
I was still thinking about Dmitri when I reached home. As I went in, I hoped I would be able to get to my room without anyone needing me, but Hap was waiting for me.
“Finally!” he called as he came out from the sitting room. “Miles and Stepan and I have a new song to practice.”
“I’m so tired I don’t know if I can learn anything new,” I warned.
“Don’t be an old lady! You can’t be that tired. We want Dmitri to hear the song.”
So Dmitri hadn’t gone out again. I decided I wasn’t that tired, so I followed Hap into the sitting room.
Dmitri sat by the fire with a sketchbook in his hand, his injured leg stretched out in front of him.
When he saw me, he stood up. “No, please, sit back down,” I said. “Unless you’d rather not hear us make a racket while we are practicing.”
“I like music. I’ll stay if you don’t mind.” He sounded very formal.
“No, I don’t mind at all.” I felt like I should sound formal too, though it made me feel awkward. “I didn’t know you were an artist.”
“I’m not,” he said. “But I draw plans for buildings I’d like to build some day.”