An Awkward Revolutionary - 7. Chapter VII

Novel Vanya ignored the bright sunshine making the gardens glitter and sparkle. Wrapped in his full length winter coat he strolled without purpose and barely listened to what Feliks was saying.

"If that loathsome young man was younger I'd give him a good thrashing," Feliks said. They walked side by side, the tobacco smoke trailing behind them as his brother puffed away on his pipe. "Discipline, the man has no discipline, and no consideration."

"He's not a boy and neither is Aleksander." Novel interrupted. "I feel we have grown apart and no longer have the closeness we once shared. All the time I spent in Saint Petersburg wasted, he listens to that loathsome man as you call him, and the distance between us becomes greater and greater. I can understand he is finding his way in life. I can even permit some indiscretions, but there are the little follies one has and there are the more serious diversions which might destroy a reputation or worse, land you on the wrong side of the law."

"Aleksander is under the man's spell and something needs doing." Feliks tapped out the bowl of his pipe on the wooden edge of a fence as they paused a moment.

"This Daniil Vinogradov is from a good family, perhaps a word with them both will see things through."

"A word?" Feliks scolded. "Is that not what we had the other evening? He needs to go. Get rid of him, he has outstayed his welcome."

"I have no wish to offend, neither they, nor you, brother. But, are you not being somewhat overcome by this young man's strength of purpose. Something the young share, as we once did, before sliding into everyday life and less urgency."

They carried on in silence, neither brother wishing to add more to the pot, lest it should boil over.

Alone in the morning room he sipped his tea and allowed his thoughts to drift to recollections of his dead wife. As he gazed idly out through the windows he could not dismiss the beauty of the frozen landscape. He had an image in his mind of Marina, the winter before she passed away, of his family as it was with little Aleksander. Novel Vanya liked to dream, living a quiet life undisturbed in the countryside encourage such a propensity. He had been dreaming similar thoughts whilst waiting for the carriage at the inn. However, since then a change had happened, he had glimpsed what he would have preferred not to. He had a knowledge of what was going on exactly as he knew the same things about his brother.

The voice of Natasha stirred him from his revelry and he replied to her question without really knowing what was said. When he was alone again he fell to wondering why things had changed and where the past had vanished to. He did not try to understand his thoughts, but rested in the chair next to the fire and favoured the feeling of that other time, those sweet moments which he regretted could not last forever.

"You know what?" Daniil was talking to Aleksander. "I have a rather good idea. Your father received that invite from the grand relative of yours, who is the Privy Councillor or some such. And, as he and your uncle have decided not to go, we could accept the invitation ourselves. You were also included. A trip into town and we could get away and enjoy ourselves for a few days."

"And then you would return here?"

"No. Because I must go and see my parents. They are not bad folk and I cannot stay here having not visited with them."

"And will you be away long?"

"No, I don't think so, I would get bored." Daniil smiled.

"So you'll come back and see us after your visit home?"

"I don't know. We'll see. So it's settled? We shall go."

"I suppose so," Aleksander replied.

He was at heart delighted with the idea of a trip together, but felt he had to hide his feelings.

The next day he and Daniil left. The young people at Ryavda were sad at their going, but Feliks was pleased, Novel Vanya welcomed a return to the calm, yet he was apprehensive. He had not talked to Aleksander.

Mamovsk was like any other provincial town, the only difference being this was the capital from where the Governor presided over the affairs of this rural region of the country. The Governor was a conceited person, bloated by an opinion of his own self-importance and determined to act in whatever way he deemed correct. He was a tyrant who listened to nobody and was in conflict with the Marshall Khariton Popov. It was for this reason that Viktor Frolov, Privy Councillor, had been sent from Saint Petersburg to put things in order. In actual fact, Viktor Frolov was of similar character to the Governor, the only difference, he was twenty years younger. The man was a high flyer who ingratiated himself with his superiors and won their support through the many and various little services he performed. Viktor Frolov, was a second cousin to Aleksander, he was a bureaucrat, self-serving opportunist, with a professed interest in the arts which was in reality a guise enabling him to satisfy his concupiscence. The man tried to impress and project a dignity and self-righteousness, he wore a uniform blazer adorned with two medals, one of which was a foreign order of little distinction.

Viktor Frolov received Aleksander in the way of high officials, amicably yet tinged with intimidation. "I am surprised your father and uncle are not here." He looked first at Aleksander and then studied Daniil. "Your father was always a little eccentric, preferring his isolated country life."

At that moment a young official in full dress uniform came into their presence and walked over to Viktor Frolov, bent down and whispered something. With the wave of an arm, he dismissed the man, saying, "I don't want to be bothered with that."

"And this is?" Viktor Frolov returned his attention to Aleksander, nodding towards Daniil.

"Forgive me," Aleksander fumbled, "let me present Daniil Vinogradov, friend and fellow student, he is our guest at Ryavda, and a companion at the university."

Daniil gave a small bow.

Viktor Frolov raised an eyebrow, an expression which gave the impression he was at once unimpressed and at the same time had the measure of the other young man standing in front of him.

"What is it you study, Monsieur Vinogradov?"

Daniil did not hesitate in his response. "The arts," he replied.

"Exactly," Viktor Frolov said, "just what I would have imagined. And do you practise what you study?"

"I dabble a little," Daniil answered, and Viktor Frolov grinned.

"I advise you to make a call on the Governor," he said to Aleksander. "This is not to say you need follow some old fashioned custom to pay your respects. No, simply because he is a decent type and it is always useful to know the local powers that be. He is giving a ball the day after tomorrow, which would be the perfect opportunity."

"And will you be attending, yourself?" Aleksander asked.

"Of course, the ball is in my honour." Viktor Frolov smiled again.

One had the impression that he was amusing himself playing his role rather like a cat might play with a mouse.

"Do you dance?" he asked Aleksander.

"I do, but quite badly."

Viktor Frolov looked about the room with a certain air, real or feigned, of boredom.

"Every young man should dance. There will be lots of ladies whom you might lead on the dance floor."

Daniil caught Aleksander's eye, but his little grin did not go unnoticed.

"We can, of course, arrange other entertainment, but that would be a private affair for another time."

The Privy Councillor studied Aleksander closely, but Aleksander was determined to reveal nothing and was holding his breath willing himself to be statue like. Which must have worked, because Viktor Frolov looked away and glanced at Daniil. He too gave nothing away. Daniil was only too aware of the position Aleksander's cousin held, and how he would seek any little scrap of information which might serve him, his position, his mission, or his personal advancement. Viktor Frolov was a person to be wary of and tread carefully when around.

Their audience, because this encounter was certainly more like an official meeting than a friendly encounter between relatives, ended with the arrival of the Chief Tax Collector.

Daniil took some convincing to get him to attend the ball, and once there he wanted to leave as soon as possible. Aleksander insisted they stay a respectable time. Despite his not being a good dancer he took a nice young lady onto the dance floor and dragged Daniil along, accompanied by the first lady's sister, for a mazourka.

They paid their due respects to the Governor who was quite welcoming in his greeting, but did not invite them to sit down. Viktor Frolov they neither joined nor spoke to, he was much too occupied moving from group to group and barely acknowledged them. It was after they had left, a man came running up to them in the street.

"Daniil Vinogradov!" he shouted.

Daniil stopped and turned, Aleksander also, and the man dressed in smart full length woollen coat with a fur collar caught up to them.

"Yulian Gusev! Well I never. I would not have imagined bumping in to you here," Daniil said.

Aleksander glanced at Daniil before looking at this rather young and elegant person standing before them.

"Let me introduce my friend, Yulian Gusev," Daniil said.

"An honour." Aleksander smiled at the man.

"And what might you be doing here?" Daniil asked.

"My father has some business here and so... here I am. To keep him company." Yulian Gusev looked at Aleksander and returned his smile. He removed his rather nice gloves and extended a hand. "Don't tell me you have come from the Governor's ball?"

Daniil nodded.

"In that case I too must make an entry."

"Indeed you should," said Daniil. "It pays to keep in with the right people."

"We are old friends," Yulian said to Aleksander. "In fact, one might even say I was Daniil's pupil. He certainly taught me a few things."

"You're an artist then?" Aleksander asked.

"No, no. Not at all. It was much more revolutionary than art."

Daniil gave Yulian an odd stare, which Aleksander noticed. His companion whilst appearing pleased to see an old friend was also a little agitated. Yulian himself, seemed equally ill at ease. For what reason, Aleksander could not fathom.

"You know I've been in touch with the labourers in the east?" Yulian began.

"I don't think this is the time to talk about that," replied Daniil, rather abruptly.

"Well, I know a fantastic old fellow here who would happily provide entertainment, if you two were of a mind?" Yulian rapidly changed the direction of their conversation.

"Entertainment you say. Of what kind?" Aleksander asked. He was both intrigued and disturbed by this friend of Daniil's, and certainly wanted to know more.

"The kind of entertainment which comes with a bottle of champagne and a group of boys," Yulian smirked.

"I really don't know," said Daniil. "And what of your presence at the Governor's ball?"

"That is all pretentious pomp and boasting. Peacocks on display!"

An amusing image Aleksander thought, but wasn't this youth next to them just such a cooing bird himself.

"Then, if you are not concerned with the powers that be, we shall come."