It is vague, the rest. I slept for a very long time. Kolya brought my clothes from my lodgings. He was very gentle with me. I do not think Hippolyte was present. I was tired. Kolya’s goodness was Christ-like. It was too much. For a while I attempted to emulate it. But his goodness was a virtue of the nobly-born, of the privileged. It was nothing I could afford, in the end.
There was a letter. I did not open it until I had slept again amongst the wolves and the foxes, with Kolya as my guardian angel. He did nothing that was unnatural. He helped me. I opened the letter on a morning. Much refreshed, I relived my moments of conquest. I felt a certain foolishness in exposing myself to the girls. I would not be able to return for a while, until they had calmed down. I knew they would not betray me because it would mean betraying their idealism. The packet was sealed with red wax. I broke the seas, and here was further proof of my victory over my past. A vindication of all I had been through. A passport. And a letter from Mr Green. I was to leave for England after Christmas. I was to go to Liverpool to conduct some business. I must call and see Mr Green as soon as possible. He would give me the details of my journey. I had a passport. I had a Special Diploma. I had recognition. And all in a rush. That is frequently how things happen, of course. Frequently, too, all the bad news comes at once. But I will not taint this reminiscence with any note of sourness. I am not one to brood on what might have been. My fate is in God’s hands. Heaven is my reward. I have sinned. I admit it. But I gave my knowledge and my innocence to the world, and if the world did not reward me as I hoped it was because it was temporarily conquered by my enemies. Few would disagree that they were God’s enemies, also. The world is in the power of the Antichrist. That is why I know I shall be received into the blessed arms of Christ, forgiven and acknowledged and honoured, to stand with the saints, to converse with the Lord, to kneel before the altar of His great love, His brilliance and mercy.
Kolya said that until I left for England, I should stay at his apartment. This suited me very well. After that first night I received no further attentions from Kolya and few from Hippolyte.
Rasputin was murdered. Shot, stabbed, poisoned and pushed under the ice, yet still he lived and roared. He was Russia. Tainted Russia, mystical and vibrant, and refusing to die. But for rejecting the cleansing of science and modern knowledge Russia paid a terrible price. She did not have to give up her soul. There must be equilibrium. Neither ‘salvation through sin’, nor the massive ‘Russian steamroller’ could rescue us. By then it was hopeless. We could not be redeemed by our divine irresponsibility under autocracy, by our magnificent Slavic wholeness of sentiment; by the careless bravery of our Cossacks, nor by our trust in a defeated Christ. Christ slept and Russia was stolen from Him.
There was no point in returning to Kiev for Christmas. The trains were in confusion. There was a threat of the enemy occupying White Russia and parts of Ukraine. My letters and telegrams reached my mother in time. To my mother: dissertation great success. have received special diploma. whole school celebrates. your loving son. Through the good offices of Captain Brown came the reply: congratulations, love from all. we are very proud, best wishes for the season. To Uncle Semya I sent a similar message, but I added a few extra words, govt, post likely. thanks for all confidence. will serve you any way I can. god bless the tsar and god save russia.
This meant that all members of my family were able to celebrate the season with great delight. I spent it quietly with Kolya. Happily we were able to find some decent food in our City of Disaster. The ghost of Rasputin, the threat of civilian strife, of Revolution, hung like mist over the streets and canals. The food was horribly expensive. Hippolyte did not join us. He had taken to leaving the apartment for days at a stretch. Kolya reassured me this was nothing to do with me.
