Paris was always a city I hoped to visit someday. I wanted to see a show at the Moulin Rouge, attend the theatre, and have tea at a café along the Seine. I wanted to indulge in all its splendor. But never in a million years did I dream of coming here under these circumstances, without a penny to my name. The moment I step onto French soil, I know the life I had in Russia will never exist again. I don’t know what the future holds for my brother and me, but at least we have each other.
Chapter 3
Paris, France
February 1915
We have been in Paris for six months now, and it has been really hard just to stay alive. We are just getting by. I always knew our family was well off, but I never realized how hard it was for others who did not have what we did. We have little funds and live in extremely poor conditions. The jewels I brought with me provided us some money but amounted to nothing compared to their worth. It was heartbreaking to see some of my most prized heirlooms gone. I never valued them for their monetary worth, but they held so much sentimental value, from the diamond earrings my brother gave me on my sixteenth birthday to my grandmother’s sapphire broach she had handed down to me.
I still have the ruby necklace given to me by my parents when I turned eighteen. It was an item that had been in our family for centuries, and I was next in line to have it. Other than my brother, it is all I have left of our family. I pray I will not have to part with it. It means more to me than anything else I brought, and I will die of starvation before I give it up. One day, I hope to pass it along to my daughter and remind her of where she came from.
About three months after we arrived, Mikhail received word that our parents had both been murdered the night we left, along with our grandmother, and our house was burned to the ground. Mikhail told me Father had suspected this would happen and was the reason he sent us away. He knew he would not be able to save himself or my mother, but it gave him comfort to know his children were safe. The news was devastating and has left a void in my heart so big, I do not know if it will ever heal. I feel so lost. I don’t even know who I am anymore.
Mikhail will not tell me who he is in contact with, so I just need to trust him. I know he is right, but it is hard not knowing what is happening at home and having no contact with anyone myself. I desperately miss my family and mourn their loss every day.
On the bright side, Mikhail made enough money this week to ensure we have food on the table for one meal a day. Some weeks, he does not make so much. Our roof leaks over our heads, but unlike some, we actually have a roof. I should be grateful for what we have, and most of the time, I am. But there are days when I hate my life so much, it’s not worth living anymore. Then I look at Mikhail, and I’m reminded he’s working hard for us and I am all he has. It would be selfish for me to leave him like that, and I vow I never will. He’s sacrificed too much for me.
Mikhail has been working in a factory that makes ammunition for the war. He insists I must stay home, even though I have insisted on several occasions that I am perfectly capable of working. But he refuses and is adamant his wages are enough.
It angers me to the point that today, while he is away at the factory, I decide to venture out and procure myself a job. It can only help, and once I get the job, he will see how much two incomes will make a difference. And really, how hard can this be? I am educated. I speak four languages fluently. I’m smart and perfectly capable of learning just about anything.
Apparently, that is not enough. I quickly learn I do not have the qualifications to obtain a job during these times. It doesn’t help that everyone is looking for work and available positions are scarce. I return home saddened and discouraged. Life has to be better than this.
Once I am home, I prepare dinner. Germany’s campaign of unrestricted warfare has caused a food shortage across Europe. We have resorted to standing in food queues to get what we are allotted, and it isn’t much. Because the war took men away from their farms, agricultural output has decreased and prices for meats and vegetables have become astronomical. Frankly, I don’t know how we will survive. More and more people are fleeing the war zones, and the cities with food to distribute are getting overcrowded. The demand outweighs supply, and if we keep this up, we will all eventually starve.
When dinner is finished, Leonid and I wait for Mikhail to return home. He never works the same hours, so some days he is home for dinner but others he arrives late into the night. A wave of dread washes over me when it gets later and later without him. I wonder where he is. It is much later than normal, and it’s not like him to be this late without sending word home. Jonathan, a neighbor who works with Mikhail, might know.
Leonid knows I am worried, and by the expression on his face, he is too. “I can’t take this anymore. I am going across the hall to see if Jonathan knows anything about Mikhail. Perhaps he knows why Mikhail has been detained, and my brother just forgot to let me know.” I put on my shawl and make my way to their flat, which is across the hall from ours.
They are a lovely couple and really have taken my brother and me under their wing. They are in their the mid to late forties. We have become good friends with them, and it is nice to have someone to visit and talk with. I know this is not a time for visiting, not like we did in Russia, but having someone to talk to makes me feel less lonely and helps the sadness go away. It also gives me some semblance of normalcy, something I so desperately crave.
“I should go with you,” he replies.
“No, you stay here in case Mikhail returns. If we are not at home, he will worry.”
Leonid nods, and I walk out the door.
I knock on our neighbor’s door, and Jonathan answers. “Katerina, it’s awfully late. Is everything all right?” I changed my name to the English version when I arrived in Paris. Katerina was much easier to say and spell than Yekaterina.
“May I come in?” I ask.
He nods and opens the door wider. I step inside. “I am so sorry to bother you both at this late hour, but I am really worried. Mikhail has not returned home from work.”
“Oh dear,” Jonathan replies. “I did not go in to work today. It was my day off this month. Perhaps he was detained to work over his normal time.” He looks over at Gabriella. “You stay here with Katerina. I will go to the factory and see if I can find anything out about Mikhail.”
Gabriella nods.
“Can you please ask Leonid to come over too? He is waiting at home for Mikhail in case he comes home while I am gone.”
“I will.” He puts on his coat, turns, and walks out the door.
I sit with Gabriella. “I’m so worried,” I say to her. “What if something happened to him?”
“There, there, child.” She grabs my hand. “No need to worry until we find out where he is. I am sure all is well.” She looks up at the cuckoo clock in her living room. “Perhaps he went out with some of his friends and forgot to send word to you.”
Tears well in my eyes. Mikhail doesn’t have any friends. “I don’t have a good feeling about this.” Just then, Leonid walks in and says hello to Gabriella. She gestures for him to sit.