“Yes – but don’t exert yourself, your Highness.”
“No, Professor, I’ll move the chair. The worst of this Ipatiev House is that we get too little exercise! And I like to be useful. Now, where shall I put it?”
“Thank you. I will sit here – not directly opposite Alexei, but a little to one side.” He lowers his voice. “So that he feels he can look away from me, if he wishes.”
Alexandra sits on the one remaining chair. The four girls and I sit on the beds. The mattresses are thin, and the springs squeak.
We wait, but Axelson says nothing, simply smiling at the boy. The dim light comes in through the painted windows, time goes by, and I hear my breathing, and that of the five other women in the room. All of us steal glances at the little prince.
Axelson takes out his pocket watch. Despite the lack of direct sunlight, the gold glows like a fire. The white face of the watch shines, and we all hear the soft ticking. Axelson smiles to himself, looking at the watch as if checking the time. Then he takes out a pocket-handkerchief and begins to polish the gold and glass.
Alexei watches, fascinated. Axelson continues to polish the watch, turning it this way and that. Then he holds it up by its chain. He looks at Alexei as if he’s only just noticed the boy.
“Do you like my watch?”
“Yes. May I hold it?”
“Of course. Here it is: have a good look at it.”
Axelson’s hand extends, and he puts the round, shiny object into the boy’s delicate hand. Alexei turns it over and over, then he puts it to his ear, to hear the ticking better.
“That’s a piece of fine Swedish watchmaking, young man. Look at how the hands go round.”
Alexei holds the watch, looking at the face. As he looks, the professor begins to speak in a low slow cadence.
“That watch, it belonged to my father. He gave it to me when I was about your age, I should think. How old are you, Alexei?”
“Thirteen.”
“Yes. In only one month, in fact, you will be fourteen… however, there’s no number thirteen, or fourteen, on a watch, is there? But you can count the rest of your age… Look, the second hand goes round, pointing at one…. now at two… it’s like you are growing up, one year at a time, as the hands go round.”
Alexei’s sea-gray eyes track the watch hands circling.
“Ten… Eleven… twelve. Two summers ago, you were eleven years old, coming up towards your twelfth birthday.”
“Yes.”
“Do you remember that summer? You were eleven years old, and you went away on a holiday.”
A cloud seems to pass across Alexei’s face, but then he smiles. “Yes. The strange house by the lake.”
“Had you ever seen that house before, Alexei?”
“No, never. We go on holiday every summer, but usually to Yalta, on the Black Sea.”
“Who is with you at this new holiday house?”
“Mother is here. She says I am unwell, that I am not to exert myself. I must lie in bed all day. I want to explore the lake and the little islands. Each island has a funny little house on it. It’s like a place in an adventure story.”
The boy is now breathing slowly and evenly, and his eyes seem focused far away. It’s as if he is looking across hundreds of miles, and back through time, and he can see Tri Tsarevny again.
“Is there anyone else on your holiday with you, Alexei?”
“My sisters, and Father are not here. Only Mother. But I like Tutor Nestor, who has come here to give me lessons, and lends me books. And Rasputin is visiting. But best of all is the beautiful lady.”
“Who is she?”
“She lives in one of the houses on the lake. Nestor has given me binoculars: I can look through them, and see the lady. Sometimes she just sits in a chair on the porch of her house, reading. Other times she stands and leans on the porch rail, looking out at the lake. She seems to be thinking.”
“Do you like her?”
“Oh yes. I’ve met her. She asked if she could meet me, and she came up to my room. She said she was sorry to see that I was stuck in my room. She told me that fresh air is good for me – but Mother is concerned about me getting a chill, so my window is closed, most days.”
“What is her name?”
“Svea. It’s Swedish. Like a magic name in a fairy tale. But best of all, Svea said that one day soon, when Mother allows me to leave of my room, I can go along to her little house on the lake, and she will give me some lemonade and cake. We can have our own picnic, out there on the island.”
“So you like her – and she likes you.”
“Yes, I like her very much. And she loves my book.”
“What is your book?”
“My book of drawings. I do little drawings, of all the people I meet. She says she could sit there on the porch of her island with me, after our picnic, and I could do a drawing of her. A portrait.”
Again, Alexei’s face changes; a shadowed frown passes across it. And as before, the shadow disappears, and he smiles.
“Svea asked if we could look through my whole book together, and she sat down by my bed and opened it. My first drawing was of Father, she asked about it, then there was one of our car, the special one with the caterpillar tracks for going along in the snow, and I explained about that. And then there was the picture I drew of me and my sisters building a snowman.”
“And then?”
“And then… the door opened, it was Mother. She said I was tired, that Svea’s visit to my room had gone on long enough, and she must go. So I said to Svea ‘You can borrow my book to look through it, if you like. There are lots of other pictures’. And she said ‘I would like that very much’. And she took the book.”
“What happened then, Alexei?”
“My bedroom door was shut, but I heard Mother and Svea talking outside in the corridor. Svea was saying that sunshine and fresh air would be good for me, but Mother said I am too ill. But I thought to myself ‘Svea is right, and Mother is wrong’. I wanted to get up, go out into the garden – but I knew I would not be allowed.”
“Did you have any lessons with Tutor Nestor that day?”
“No. Mother told the servants to draw my drapes, so my room was all dark, and I was supposed to sleep. But I couldn’t. All afternoon, all evening, until it went dark outside, I lay there. Then I pulled the drapes back and looked out into the night.”
Alexei’s voice trembles slightly; he pauses.
“The next day was lovely and sunny. I wished I could go outside, and visit Svea on her island.”
Axelson’s eyes narrow in frustration: Alexei has skipped over the events of that night, and what he saw out on the causeway in the dark. But the professor’s voice remains calm and quiet.
“So that day, you were still in your room, as usual?”
“Yes – but then in the afternoon, I heard a gun firing! I dashed to the window and looked out with the binoculars.
I could see the islands and the houses. I could see the Cossack captain, who is one of our guards, on the porch of one house, looking all around. Then, after a few minutes, Rasputin came out onto the porch with him. They were both peering around, and talking to each other. Rasputin looked – scared.”
“Could you see anyone else?”
“No, just the captain and Rasputin. But then, my bedroom door opened, and a man came in. He was wearing Army uniform, and he looked worried. He told me not to look out of the window.”
“What happened then?”
“The Army man went away, I heard the door closing, his boots going along the corridor… and then he was gone.”
“So you were alone?”
“I got up, and I dressed. I opened my door and crept along the corridor, then down the stairs. I could hear Mother’s voice coming from the library, but there was no-one else about. So I went out of the house and down to the lake.”