The Secret Wife(54)
He walked past the house on Friday the 12th, while the girls were in the yard, and looked through the knothole. Once he was sure Tatiana had spotted him, he stuck the note into the hole, so it protruded only slightly on the other side, then walked off. He turned back as he reached the street corner and could see the paper had already gone. There was no changing his mind now.
Chapter Thirty-One
Ekaterinburg, Russia, 13th–15th July 1918
On Saturday the 13th of July, Dmitri rode to the consulate in the afternoon hoping to meet Henry Armistead, only to be told he still had not arrived.
‘Don’t worry,’ Sir Thomas assured him. ‘I telephoned and was told that he left yesterday, so he should be here by nightfall. Come again tomorrow.’
The following day there was still no sign of him and no word either. Armistead must have been delayed on the journey. Dmitri felt he would explode with tension. He ran his fingers through his hair and hardly noticed when he yanked out a strand. Pain was a welcome distraction.
He met Malevich early on Sunday evening to discuss the options.
‘I think we should go ahead. The arrangements are made, all the men are here,’ Dmitri argued. ‘The longer we wait, the more chance there is of something happening to them.’
Malevich was adamantly against it. ‘There is no point freeing the Romanovs without a strategy to whisk them out of the country. They can’t get on a train without the railway workers reporting it. It’s too far to reach safety by road. We need Armistead’s help.’
Dmitri had to accept he was right, but felt panicky at the thought of waiting. Anything could happen in a week.
After their meeting, Dmitri tried calling on Sir Thomas again but there was no sign of the merchant and Sir Thomas was at a loss to explain his absence. He tried to calm the increasingly distraught Dmitri. ‘He has never let me down before. I’m sure he’ll be here tomorrow.’
Dmitri didn’t explain to him why he was quite so agitated. Sir Thomas didn’t know that the following day Yelena would be going into the Ipatiev House to change places with Tatiana. Should Dmitri stop her? Or should he trust that Mr Armistead would appear and the plan could proceed?
Back at his cottage, Dmitri sat up late mulling over the options until his brain was frazzled, absent-mindedly stroking the waistcoat Tatiana had knitted for him. There was still time to ride to Tolmachev’s farm and tell Yelena that the plan was delayed till the following week – but he was reluctant because he yearned so badly to see Tatiana. He had been counting the hours until he could hold her in his arms and a week seemed an impossibly long delay.
Eventually he decided that Yelena should go ahead and make the switch. If Armistead did not arrive, it could be a trial run for the following week, giving Dmitri a chance to brief Tatiana about their plans, so the family could take cover when the rescue began. He convinced himself it made sense.
Next morning, Dmitri watched as the party of cleaning ladies made their way into the Ipatiev House at 8 a.m., Yelena among them. He rode round the town, in an attempt to contain his extreme agitation. This was the moment when it could all go wrong. At eleven he enquired at the consulate, to be told that Mr Armistead had still not appeared, and he glanced into the exercise yard to see Tatiana strolling with her sisters. Was she going to do as he asked? She must be petrified. At twelve noon, he positioned himself on a street corner just a few houses further down Vozhnesensky Prospekt and consulted his pocket watch, wearing an old jacket and cap like a factory worker.
The gates opened and a group of women walked out in a huddle. Dmitri strained his eyes to pick out individual figures but he couldn’t see either Tatiana or Yelena. His heart was thudding against his ribcage.
The women wandered down the road, then the gate opened again and two more emerged, arm in arm. Straight away Dmitri recognised her: how could the guards not see? She walked differently from the other women. Even when wearing the plain bonnet and gown of a farmer’s daughter she was transparently a grand duchess. He felt as if he might faint, such was the mixture of excitement and terror that swirled in his blood.
Neither of the guards at the gate gave her a second glance and she walked down the road with her arm through that of another cleaner, presumably Yelena’s friend Svetlana. Only when she looked up and saw him could he tell she was terrified. It was an extraordinarily courageous thing to do, but Dmitri had never doubted she would manage. As she drew near, he took her arm and thanked Svetlana, who whispered, ‘Good luck! See you tomorrow.’ Tatiana’s whole body was trembling as Dmitri led her round a corner and down the street to where his horse was tethered.
‘I’m afraid I don’t have a side saddle,’ he apologised, his voice hoarse with emotion.
‘That’s all right,’ she said quietly, and mounted, adjusting her skirts. Dmitri mounted behind her, glanced back at the house, then they rode off without any further words.
Tatiana was free! Dmitri’s heart sang as he sat with his arms looped around her to hold the reins. She was here, with him, no longer a prisoner! He could feel the warmth of her flesh, and her hair blowing in the wind stroked his face. Behind them the road was clear apart from some peasants on horseback; there were none of the cars or trucks driven by Red Guardsmen. They’d got away with it!
Inside the cottage, she was still trembling when at last he enclosed her in his arms and held her tight. He unfastened her bonnet and caressed her as she clung to him.