takes rather a different outlook, being so very practical. I’ll admit there’s nothing his lordship likes better than to help in the garden whenever we are in the country, whereas most aristocrats would not demean themselves with such peasant-type activities.’
‘I’m delighted to hear it.’ I was beginning to be increasingly intrigued by this man who would be paying my wages, and looking forward to getting to know him better.
When the children stood before me ready for inspection, I was instantly perturbed by the expression on Serge’s face, recognising the signs of further rebellion.
‘How very fine you look,’ I said, anxious to calm him as he twitched and tugged at his new clothes. He was dressed like any well-to-do young English boy, in a smart green tweed suit with Norfolk jacket and knickerbockers.
I smiled with relief as he preened himself at the compliment, but then Irina started to giggle. ‘You look very silly, Serge.’
Her brother glowered at her. ‘So do you in that fluffy pink frock with that big green sash and stupid hair ribbon.’
‘It’s better than your soppy tie and big collar,’ she shouted back.
Serge instantly started tugging at the tie, trying to take it off, at the same time attempting to ease the stiff Eton collar.
‘Please don’t do that, Master Serge.’ I hastily put out my hands to stop him, but he slapped them away.
‘Don’t like it. Won’t wear it!’
I half glanced at Nyanushki , again wondering how best to deal with such outright disobedience. She gave a resigned little shrug as if she’d seen this many times before. ‘I’m afraid they do tend to become rather quarrelsome when shut up too long in this flat. What would you like to wear, then, my lovely boy?’ she asked.
‘Don’t care! Not this,’ he yelled, and snatching up Nyanushki ’s sewing scissors he chopped off the tie just below the knot. Then as his sister burst out laughing he quickly turned on her and chopped off the ribbon, together with a chunk of her hair.
Irina screamed, instantly falling to the floor to drum her heels in a fit of hysterics. Terrified that the Countess might hear this dreadful noise I rushed to pick her up and quieten her. Overwhelmed by a sense of failure at not having guessed his intent, matters went from bad to worse as despite my begging her to hush, her hysterics continued unabated.
Then Nyanushki spoke in a calm, firm voice. ‘If you don’t stop this noise at once, Miss Irina, I shall have to call Mama, and you know what she will do.’
Silence followed this threat as Irina instantly stopped screaming. Rubbing the tears from her eyes she got slowly to her feet, making no further protest as I retied her hair, carefully disguising the missing lock. Nyanushki fetched Serge a new tie, and even he appeared chastened despite his glum expression.
‘What would the Countess do?’ I asked Nyanushki in a whisper.
‘Fasten up their naughty mouths with sticky tape,’ she softly replied, sliding her plump fingers over her lips to demonstrate.
I was horrified. ‘But they would not be able to eat, let alone speak.’
‘Indeed not. That is the point. The children live in fear of this punishment, although there are worse.’
Recalling the incident over afternoon tea I dreaded to think what further punishments the Countess could inflict upon her children, particularly on Irina. ‘I have an idea,’ I quickly announced, anxious to calm their fears and stop the tears and sulks. ‘If we get ready quickly I’ll teach you how to sing Pop Goes the Weasel and Diddle Diddle Dumpling . I love silly rhymes, don’t you?’
‘Ooh, yes please,’ Irina said, and we had a jolly sing-song, Serge particularly enjoying I Went to the Animal Fair , which we sang in French.
One afternoon after taking the children out for their daily walk, I returned to the schoolroom to find Ruth taking tea with Nyanushki . ‘Oh, how lovely to see you,’ I cried, giving my new friend a war m
‘I’m delighted to hear it.’ I was beginning to be increasingly intrigued by this man who would be paying my wages, and looking forward to getting to know him better.
When the children stood before me ready for inspection, I was instantly perturbed by the expression on Serge’s face, recognising the signs of further rebellion.
‘How very fine you look,’ I said, anxious to calm him as he twitched and tugged at his new clothes. He was dressed like any well-to-do young English boy, in a smart green tweed suit with Norfolk jacket and knickerbockers.
I smiled with relief as he preened himself at the compliment, but then Irina started to giggle. ‘You look very silly, Serge.’
Her brother glowered at her. ‘So do you in that fluffy pink frock with that big green sash and stupid hair ribbon.’
‘It’s better than your soppy tie and big collar,’ she shouted back.
Serge instantly started tugging at the tie, trying to take it off, at the same time attempting to ease the stiff Eton collar.
‘Please don’t do that, Master Serge.’ I hastily put out my hands to stop him, but he slapped them away.
‘Don’t like it. Won’t wear it!’
I half glanced at Nyanushki , again wondering how best to deal with such outright disobedience. She gave a resigned little shrug as if she’d seen this many times before. ‘I’m afraid they do tend to become rather quarrelsome when shut up too long in this flat. What would you like to wear, then, my lovely boy?’ she asked.
‘Don’t care! Not this,’ he yelled, and snatching up Nyanushki ’s sewing scissors he chopped off the tie just below the knot. Then as his sister burst out laughing he quickly turned on her and chopped off the ribbon, together with a chunk of her hair.
Irina screamed, instantly falling to the floor to drum her heels in a fit of hysterics. Terrified that the Countess might hear this dreadful noise I rushed to pick her up and quieten her. Overwhelmed by a sense of failure at not having guessed his intent, matters went from bad to worse as despite my begging her to hush, her hysterics continued unabated.
Then Nyanushki spoke in a calm, firm voice. ‘If you don’t stop this noise at once, Miss Irina, I shall have to call Mama, and you know what she will do.’
Silence followed this threat as Irina instantly stopped screaming. Rubbing the tears from her eyes she got slowly to her feet, making no further protest as I retied her hair, carefully disguising the missing lock. Nyanushki fetched Serge a new tie, and even he appeared chastened despite his glum expression.
‘What would the Countess do?’ I asked Nyanushki in a whisper.
‘Fasten up their naughty mouths with sticky tape,’ she softly replied, sliding her plump fingers over her lips to demonstrate.
I was horrified. ‘But they would not be able to eat, let alone speak.’
‘Indeed not. That is the point. The children live in fear of this punishment, although there are worse.’
Recalling the incident over afternoon tea I dreaded to think what further punishments the Countess could inflict upon her children, particularly on Irina. ‘I have an idea,’ I quickly announced, anxious to calm their fears and stop the tears and sulks. ‘If we get ready quickly I’ll teach you how to sing Pop Goes the Weasel and Diddle Diddle Dumpling . I love silly rhymes, don’t you?’
‘Ooh, yes please,’ Irina said, and we had a jolly sing-song, Serge particularly enjoying I Went to the Animal Fair , which we sang in French.
One afternoon after taking the children out for their daily walk, I returned to the schoolroom to find Ruth taking tea with Nyanushki . ‘Oh, how lovely to see you,’ I cried, giving my new friend a war m
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