Anastasia's Secret by Susanne Dunlap Page A

winter. Her heart gave her such trouble that she had to use the elevator to go up and down from our floor to hers, and spent much of the day just lying on her chaise. But she and Alyosha both recovered by spring. The doctors decided that Alexei was well enough to return with Papa to Mogilev.
    “Darling, must you take him away again? Remember what happened last time.”
    Mama’s eyes followed Papa as he looked for books he wanted to take with him from the small library. Mashka and I had been enjoying some time quietly reading when they both came in.
    “He must learn. And he has been better for quite a while. Gibbes will go with us so he can continue his lessons, and Nagorny, of course.” He didn’t look at her, just pulled out books, leafed through them and put them back.
    “But if he becomes ill? What then?”
    “Derevenko will be there too. He’s an excellent physician. And the army hospital is well stocked with everything he could need.”
    Just as Mama threw herself into a chair and put her handkerchief to her eyes, Alyosha entered. He did look handsome, and so grown up in his uniform. He had told me that he loved being with Papa and the army, that it was good to get away from Mama’s intense worry for a while. “I’m ready, Papa. Chemodurov and Nagorny have seen to everything, and the motorcar is waiting for us outside.”
    I couldn’t help smiling over in my corner, hearing Alyosha trying to make his voice deep. He was nowhere near a beard yet, though—something I made sure to remind him of as often as I could.
    “I shall be fine, Mama. Please don’t worry.” Alyosha took Mama’s hand. She smiled. “And I promise to write home every day. I shall have to, to make sure Nastya doesn’t drive everyone insane!” He cast me a sidelong glance. I balled up a piece of paper I was using as a bookmark, put it in my mouth, and spit it out at him. It struck him right in the forehead.
    “Nastya! Is that any way to treat your brother when he is on the point of departing?” Mama asked, but Papa had turned away and I realized he was trying very hard not to laugh.
    “No, Mama. Only I hope Alexei won’t become too much like the soldiers, and curse and tell lewd stories.” Now Mashka started laughing. Alyosha just drew himself up taller.
    “For that, you shall get your letter last,” he said. But I knew that I would be the first person he wrote to.

    Papa, Alyosha, and Sasha, of course, had gone back to the war. The house was quiet and dull again. I contented myself with writing to Papa and Alyosha, and thinking of Sasha when I played his balalaika quietly at night after everyone had gone to their rooms. Mashka actually came to like it, and would often fall asleep to the sound.
    This secret practicing was all I thought I would have to preserve me from the quiet drear of Petrograd, Peterhof, and Tsarskoe Selo. Tatiana had started her nursing duties again, and she and Olga went to Petrograd every other week for committee meetings and other charity work, leaving Mashka and me to knit, sew, and read to Mama. Occasionally Anya invited us all to her house in Tsarskoe Selo for a party. She also invited any officers she knew who were on leave, and sometimes we danced to the gramophone. Or rather, I should say I only danced if there were more officers than women, being the youngest and still in short skirts. I asked any of the ones who were from the Semyonovsky guards if they knew the colonel Sasha was with, hoping by that means to get some information about him without giving away our acquaintance.
    Did Mama know I had a secret friend? I am not certain. I think it would have been quite easy for her to find out. I have gone back and forth thinking that she didn’t care enough to ask, and that she understood my need for a friendship unconnected to the court and not influenced by court manners and traditions. I like to give her the benefit of the doubt, and believe that although she didn’t often take the time to know my