A Foreign Shore Read online

  ‘You’ve seen the way she looks at you when you’re in the same room. I’ve seen the way you look at her …’

  ‘It was never possible, Ruth.’

  ‘Alexei and …’

  ’You and Alexei are different. Please, not a word to anyone in Hughesovka about my marriage to Vasya. I will tell those who need to know.’

  ‘I can’t bear my happiness to be at the expense of yours.’

  ‘It won’t be. I’m looking forward to being married. Vasya is the old-fashioned kind who’ll spend her days cooking and taking care of me. Just what a busy doctor needs.’ He shouted at the horses and they quickened their pace. He drove straight into the wind, knowing it would carry away their voices and any chance of conversation. Just as he intended.

  Chapter Two

  Hospital, Hughesovka

  June 1871

  Nathan spoke to Sonya as soon as she arrived in the office the next morning. He’d had a sleepless night, most of which he’d spent rehearsing speeches he intended to make to her. The more he reflected, the more he realised it wasn’t a question of what he’d said, rather a question of what he’d wanted to say and had never found the courage to put into words.

  Knowing Sarah and the girls were busy waking the patients and giving them breakfast, he closed the office door.

  She smiled at him. ‘Would you like tea?’

  ‘No, thank you, Sonya, but I would like to talk to you. I’ve something to tell you that I want you to hear before anyone else in the hospital.’

  She felt as though a chill wind had blown into the room.

  Now the moment had arrived Nathan couldn’t recall a single one of his carefully rehearsed sentences. ‘I’m getting married next week.’

  ‘Married …’ She tried to recall if he’d ever mentioned a girl … a woman he visited. Until that moment he’d never said anything of a remotely personal nature. Had she built a future for herself on the basis of a few smiles and kind words?

  She considered their relationship – if she could even call it that – and realised he’d never given her more than a passing glance. One that she’d obviously read far more into than he’d intended.

  Her lips ached from the strain of smiling. ‘Congratulations, Dr Kharber. Do I know the fortunate girl?’

  ‘I doubt it, she lives quietly. It’s Vasya Goldberg, the butcher’s daughter from the shtetl.’

  Tears pricked, burning the back of her eyes. She knew Vasya; a dried-up old spinster with thin hair and a wrinkled complexion, who occasionally accompanied the seamstress who visited her aunt’s house to repair the drapes and soft furnishings.

  He began to speak quickly, barely aware of what he was saying, talking simply to fill the void that had opened between them.

  ‘It may seem sudden to you and most people in Hughesovka, but this is the way my people arrange marriages. The father of the bride or groom approaches the other family and suggests a match. If the proposal is acceptable to both parties there’s no point in wasting time.’

  ‘I recall Ruth telling me that your aunt and uncle wanted her to marry Abraham Goldberg.’

  ‘The families have been friends for years. Levi, Abraham’s father, was my father’s best friend.’

  ‘I see.’ It was a pitiful comment but she couldn’t think of a better one.

  ‘You know, Ruth is to marry Alexei in September.’

  She couldn’t resist saying, ‘So you’re to take Ruth’s place in this union between your two families and marry Levi’s daughter.’

  ‘It’s not a sacrifice, Sonya. It’s a marriage between two Jews.’

  She turned to the filing cabinet and opened a drawer because it gave her an excuse to look away from him. ‘I hope you’ll both be very happy.’

  ‘Thank you.’ He hesitated before realising there was nothing else he could say.

  No declarations of love or even friendship had been made by either of them. How could he possibly begin to explain a look that had meant more to him than anything else in the world?

  Steppe outside of Alexandrovka

  June 1871

  The transition from winter through a spring that lasted only a few days, to summer, was swift. One day the snow lay metres thick on the steppe the next it melted away. Rain followed, green shoots of rough grass sprouted, and the unmade roads and tracks in Hughesovka dissolved into mud canals.

  Embryonic crops of vegetables appeared in rich black earth the farmers tilled until it looked as though it could be turned over with a teaspoon, and when the rain blew over, warm welcoming sun shone, inviting people to forsake their houses for the outdoors.

  The employees of the New Russia Company who’d believed nothing more could be squeezed into their waking hours when the days were short and the nights long, discovered summer brought a flurry of activity that left even fewer hours for sleep. None were busier than John and Glyn.

  Blinking hard to adjust to sunlight after the black of the pit shafts, John, Glyn, and Richard climbed out of a primitive cage at the head of the latest Cossack mine John had acquired, to see Alexei engulfed by a sea of bleak-faced men.

  ‘What do you think?’ John asked. ‘Do we drill down and widen this shaft in the hope of finder richer seams than those we’ve discovered, or should we sink a new pit on one of the new sites the geologist pinpointed?’

  ‘Either way we need to drill out seams wide and deep enough for men to stand in, sir. The conditions in Merthyr weren’t good but in this pit they’re so cramped they’re dangerous.’ Richard had learned that John was prepared to listen to advice when it came to sinking pits, even from his youngest employees.

  Glyn nodded. ‘I agree with, Richard, sir. The only wonder is more men haven’t been killed or injured here.’

  ‘I know you acquired the lease of this pit as a going concern, sir …’

  ‘Going concern or not,’ John cut Richard short, ‘the last thing I’m prepared to be reckless with is men’s lives.’ He joined the miners. ‘How do you see this pit’s future?’ he asked in Russian.

  No one answered.

  ‘Speak your minds, the truth can’t sting that much.’

  ‘Most who work here say the seams are giving out, Your Excellency,’ one ventured, ‘but they’re afraid to talk in case they lose their jobs.’

  ‘Let me make one thing clear: no one, absolutely no one,’ John emphasised, ‘will lose their job. Go underground and tell the men down there we’re closing this pit. Ask them to clear out the tools and bring everything useful to the surface by the end of the day. Everyone should report to the main office first thing tomorrow. The sooner we assign them to another mine the sooner we can get quality pits into production. In the meantime, we’ll go,’ he opened his leather map case. ‘There.’ He took a pencil from his pocket, and circled a spot before handing the case to Alexei. ‘Ride to the office and tell them to make arrangements to cap this mine, clear the surface buildings, and move the drilling rigs to this location. The conditions there are no better than here, but the geologist found three new seams off the main shaft that warrant a closer look. Mr Edwards, Richard, and I will go there now.’

  ‘After I’ve been to the office, sir?’ Alexei asked.

  ‘You re-join us.’

  Alexei beamed. ‘Thank you, sir.’ He whistled for Agripin.

  ‘The quicker we decide which pits to develop, the sooner I can concentrate on getting the furnaces into production. If the builders ever finish them.’

  ‘The way the German and Polish foremen are working the men, they’ll be commissioned before you know it, sir,’ Glyn assured John.

  ‘I doubt that, Glyn. Nothing in this town is happening rapidly enough for me.’ John strode towards his carriage.

  Hospital, Hughesovka

  June 1871

  When Praskovia knocked the door of the office, Sarah was helping Sonya update patients’ files. It was a task that Nathan usually claimed, but for the last few days he’d spent so much time in his consulting room Sarah wondered if he wa
s researching treatments or simply trying to avoid Sonya.

  ‘That’s what I call timing, Praskovia, we were just about to take a break and make tea for the staff. Join us?’ she invited.

  ‘Thank you, but I was hoping to talk to you if you’re not too busy.’

  ‘Professionally?’ Sarah questioned.

  ‘If you’ve time.’

  ‘I can always find time for you, Praskovia, especially when I consider all the things you do for us. Come into the examination room.’ Sarah opened the door. ‘Please, sit down. Are you ill?’ she asked when they were alone.

  ‘I think I’m going to have a baby.’ Praskovia blurted. ‘If you’re shocked …’

  ‘I’m not shocked. The first thing we have to do is check that you really are pregnant, and if that’s the case, both you and the baby are doing well. Undress and lie on the couch please.’

  Sarah examined Praskovia gently and carefully. When she felt her abdomen she said, ‘How long have you suspected that you’re pregnant?’

  ‘About two months.’

  ‘Are you nauseous?’

  ‘Most of the time.’

  ‘Do you actually vomit?’

  ‘Most mornings.’

  ‘That should wear off soon. Try four drops of this in half a glass of water three times a day after meals.’ Sarah took a bottle of peppermint essence from a cabinet and gave it to Praskovia.

  ‘It won’t hurt the baby?’

  ‘No, I promise it won’t. I took it myself when I was pregnant. I’d say you’re about ten to twelve weeks, which means you won’t be able to keep your condition a secret for more than another month or two, even in the flowing smocks you wear. Does the baby’s father know?’

  ‘No.’ Praskovia reached for her clothes.

  ‘Will you tell him?’

  ‘When I’m ready.’

  ‘Have you thought about your and the baby’s future?’

  ‘I haven’t made any firm decisions.’

  Sarah felt selfish for asking but she persisted. ‘Will you continue running the house for us?’

  ‘I hope to, but that might prove difficult with a baby to look after. If the master wants me to leave I’ll go.’

  Sarah had no idea how Glyn would react to the news that his housekeeper was carrying a bastard, but she felt the need to reassure Praskovia. ‘I can’t see Glyn throwing you out.’

  ‘I hope not.’

  ‘If you marry the father …’

  ‘I won’t be marrying anyone.’ Praskovia slipped her smock over her head and fastened the buttons.

  Sarah didn’t press her. ‘What about your mother?’

  ‘She won’t be pleased.’

  Sarah sensed from Praskovia’s reply that her response was an understatement. ‘Would you like me to tell Glyn?’

  ‘No, please don’t. I’ll speak to him myself. Will you keep this a secret for a few weeks until I decide what I’m going to do?’

  ‘Of course. I’ll do everything I can to help you and ensure that you keep your job. You’re not just our housekeeper, you’re our friend, Praskovia. I mean all of us, not only me. Glyn, Richard, Anna – none of us could have survived without you. We arrived without having a clue about the country or the customs. You took care of us through a horrible time of loss when we weren’t capable of looking after ourselves. None of us will ever forget that.’

  ‘Thank you, you’re very kind, Mrs Edwards.’

  ‘How many times do I have to ask you to call me Sarah?’ Sarah hugged the girl. ‘I’d regard it as a privilege if you allow me to help you in any way I can.’

  ‘Thank you for the offer of tea, but I’ve been away from the kitchens for too long as it is. It’s baking day.’

  ‘I’ll see you tonight, Praskovia.’ Sarah walked her to the door and watched her cross the road.

  Sonya joined her. ‘Is Praskovia ill?’

  ‘No.’ Sarah didn’t want to think about the prejudice and gossip the young girl would face. From Praskovia’s reaction to her question about Yelena she had the feeling unmarried mothers were subjected to the same narrow-minded bigotry in Cossack society that they were in Britain. As for Glyn, the more she tried to anticipate his response to Praskovia’s news, the less she was able to hazard a guess as to how her brother-in-law might react.

  Glyn Edwards’ House, Hughesovka

  June 1871

  Yelena was kneading bread dough when Praskovia walked into the kitchen.

  ‘You’ve been to see Mrs Edwards?’ she asked without looking up from the table.

  ‘I told you where I was going.’ Praskovia sat on a stool and lifted a glass under the tap on the samovar. She took a slice of lemon from a bowl and dropped it into the tea she’d poured.

  ‘Why did you bother to see Mrs Edwards when you already knew you’d disgraced yourself and your family?’

  ‘I wanted something that would stop me from vomiting every morning.’

  ‘I told you, chew on a lump of coal.’

  ‘It didn’t work, Mama.’ Praskovia took the bottle Sarah had given her from her pocket, uncorked the top and sniffed the contents.

  ‘When are you going to tell the master?’ Yelena demanded.

  ‘In a time of my own choosing. You’re not to say a word to anyone. Do you hear me?’

  ‘I hear you.’

  ‘Especially Misha. Is that clear?’

  ‘As clear as Don water.’ Yelena slammed a dough ball on to a baking tray. ‘If you’re expecting the master …’

  ‘I’m not expecting anything of the master.’

  ‘If he throws you out? And me and Pyotr after you? Then what? We don’t even have a house to go to now there are Welsh miners in our home …’

  Praskovia took her tea and left the kitchen. She went to the corridor that opened into her room and Glyn’s, unlocked, closed, and relocked the door that separated it from the servants’ quarters. Bypassing the door to her room, she walked into Glyn’s.

  She sat in the chair that faced the fire, stared into the flames and tried to imagine what Glyn would say when she told him he was about to become a father.

  How angry would he be? Would he try to buy her off? Give her money to go far from him and Hughesovka? The brave face she’d adopted when she was with Yelena crumpled. She sank her face into her hands.

  She was no better than her mother. Just like the woman who’d borne her, she’d allowed a man to make love to her outside marriage and she’d no choice but to pay the price for her sin.

  Three Firs Mine, steppe outside of Alexandrovka

  June 1871

  ‘How are we doing down there?’ John asked Glyn when he came up in the cage.

  ‘It looks good, sir.’ Glyn brushed the sweat from his brow with his arm. It was hot and airless underground. ‘We’ve hit a broad seam of anthracite over six feet high and twice as wide. Shoring’s going to be a problem. The Cossacks have been cutting corners. There’s nowhere near enough timber down there to bolster the shaft. I’d say we need about ten times as much as that just to secure the entry chamber.’ He pointed to a stack of timber at the pithead. ‘Richard and Alf are calculating what we’ll need for every yard of seam we cut.’

  ‘Given our transport problems it’s anyone’s guess how long it’s going to take to haul timber up here. The sooner the iron works gets into production the sooner we’ll have rail tracks.’ John was growing more impatient with every delay. ‘I’ll take a look at the seam myself.’

  Alexei returned in time to hear the end of the conversation. ‘We won’t get iron for rail tracks without coal to fuel the furnaces, sir.’

  ‘Thank you for that reminder, Alexei.’

  John’s scowl couldn’t dispel Alexei’s good humour. ‘Just pointing out we need to start mining coal as soon as possible, sir.’

  ‘If you know any storks or witches on brooms that can fly in the materials we need, now’s the time to contact them, Alexei.’ Glyn followed John to the hut where his boss picked out a miner’s helmet and Davy lamp. Jo
hn checked the oil well on the lamp was full before striking a Lucifer.

  ‘Want me to come down and write notes for you, sir?’ Alexei needed to prove he was capable of working underground. He’d reacted badly the first time he went down in a cage. Unnerved, terrified by the foul-smelling, claustrophobic blackness, he’d fainted. His excuse that he’d found the atmosphere airless hadn’t rung true, even to his own ears.

  ‘You’re better off up here annoying the surface workers …’

  A thunderous din blasted up the shaft. A rumble shook the ground. Seconds later a plume of dust shot up darkening the air. It fell on the bare earth around the shaft, speckling it with ragged, darker blotches.

  Glyn held his breath, dreading yet half expecting the sound of collapse to be followed by an explosion of firedamp.

  John was the first to speak. ‘Only a fall.’ He ran and jumped into the cage. Glyn followed.

  ‘No.’ John forestalled Alexei when he tried to join them.

  ‘Richard …’ Alexei cried. He couldn’t bear to think of his closest friend injured … or worse.

  ‘Someone has to stay up top and direct operations. Send for the doctor. We’ll need transport for the injured and …’ John couldn’t bring himself to say ‘dead’ until he’d seen bodies. He called out to the man operating the cage. ‘Down!’

  He and Glyn pulled up their mufflers and tied them over their noses and mouth as the cage was lowered. Soon the air was so thick it took all their strength just to draw breath into their lungs.

  Hospital, Hughesovka

  June 1871

  Sarah carried a glass of tea into Nathan’s consulting room. She set it on his desk. ‘Congratulations on your marriage.’

  ‘Thank you. I suppose it was too much to expect word not to get out when Vasya’s brother moved her trunk into my apartments this morning.’

  ‘Don’t blame Ruth for letting it slip, but she mentioned you were getting married tonight when she left to move in with Alexei’s grandmother half an hour ago.’

  ‘Vasya and I wanted Ruth to stay with us until she marries, but Ruth thought she’d be in the way. Not that she would have been.’

  ‘Weddings are wonderful occasions.’