The House by the Dvina (14 page)

My grandparents were presented with gifts as tokens of their visit. Years later I was to recognise them in their home, from the simple wood carvings and containers made from the bark of the birch by the peasants to the beautiful teaset where each cup was hand painted in black delicate lines against the shell pink of the porcelain depicting scenes of the famous Solovetski Monastery.

From the Scottish side there also came a variety of presents. The fine blankets woven from the best of Scottish wool were much appreciated by Babushka and replaced the usual quilted bedspreads. The Cameron tartan rugs were to be seen on all future travels. Nelly received many gifts, but the best present that came out of the shipТs hold, which aroused delighted astonishment, was the handsome navy-blue English perambulator Ч an article of great rarity in these parts, which was to draw many admiring and envious glances when in the future, Nelly pushing her beautiful perambulator, would strollleisurely with a nonchalant air along the leafy avenues of the Summer Garden.

After watching the ship carrying her parents skirting the island of Solombala and vanishing out of sight, Nelly Сbecame despondent. It was not that she ever complained, for it was not in her nature to do so, but she talked a lot about her home in Scotland, her family, and dear “Old Broughty” and for the first time Gherman became aware that she was homesick.

Back in Scotland life resumed its placid course. Granny was a creature of habit. For each day of the week, for each month of the year there were tasks laid down with the precision of a clock. It was now July Ч the month of ripening fruit and jam-making. There was also a backlog of letters waiting to be answered. Granny was a faithful and descriptive writer and, through her, all events and news were circulated between the members of the family abroad. Out of nine children only three remained in the end in Scotland. The letters were her only contact, but she was rewarded in turn by pen pictures of the life and customs in India, New Zealand, Uganda and Russia, and later Australia and Kenya. They were a source of great pleasure in a rather prosaic existence, and whenever the mail arrived she would retreat upstairs to a room adjoining her bedroom, where she found peace and no interruptions.

This room was known as “GrandpaТs Boudoir”. It was a long narrow room divided by a heavy velvet curtain. Behind the curtain stood a large bath fashioned out of real or imitation marble. Against the wall was a painted glass panel depicting reclining damsels whose voluptuous forms, partially hidden by crimson draperies, exposed magnificent plump breasts and arms.

At their feet were flasks of wine and bowls of luscious fruit. White doves fluttered here and there. The same exotic scenes were repeated in the windows of the bathroom. In the front half, where the tall windows formed a circle flooding the room with sunshine, stood a small table and a basket chair. On the table were invariably a dish of bananas and a decanter of whisky. It was grandpaТs custom whenever he arrived from the office to retreat to this room and sit beside the table reading his newspaper or admiring the view while sipping his whisky and eating bananas.

Below his window was a rose bed. On to this bed from the window were thrown all the banana skins. Under no condition was the gardener or anyone else ever allowed to remove them. It was GrandpaТs firm belief that nothing was as good for his roses as banana skins and the roses upheld his view by rewarding him with unusually large blooms.

The most intriguing part of “GrandpaТs Boudoir” was the row of pictures running the whole length of the west wall. All represented the female form in various degrees of partial nudity Ч perhaps more titillating than stark nakedness.

There was one exception in the midst of this luscious gallery. It was an enlargement of my grandfather. He is taken standing alone surrounded by a great expanse of moorland. Below his proud countenance gazing sternly ahead, can be read the quotation: “I am Monarch of all I survey”. This somehow never failed to arouse unseemly mirth in my cousin and me when we were so bold as to venture into the sacred precincts if no one was about.

We were not encouraged to enter. Grandma preferred to be alone with her letters and Grandpa with his whisky and bananas.

In August a letter arrived from Russia addressed to Grandma in GhermanТs writing. This was unusual, as all letters were normally written by Nelly and one had been delivered only a few days earlier. Hurriedly retreating to her little chair upstairs, she settled down and began to read. She was relieved to note that nothing untoward had happened, but at the same time became agitated as she continued reading Ч her son-in-law was inviting her to come to Russia.

Nelly, he explained, was not aware that he was writing this letter, as he did not wish to raise her hopes unduly, not knowing if his mother-in-law would accept his invitation. Nelly, he continued, had adapted herself to the Russian way of life in a manner that surprised and delighted not only himself but all the relatives as well. She had never been known to utter a single word of complaint, but recently he had -noticed a certain despondency. Nothing, he felt, would gladden her heart more than to have her mother beside her during this critical stage of her life when their child was expected to be born. As for himself, he added, no one would be more welcome and wished for than his mother-in-law.

If it were possible for her to leave Scotland, Gherman went on, he would arrange everything. It would be comparatively simple for Mrs Cameron to board a ship in Hull which would take her across to Finland. There she would be met by his mother who was planning to spend a holiday with her daughter Olga in Helsinki.

After spending a few days in Helsinki the two ladies would go on to St Petersburg and Moscow where his motherТs friends would show them the sights of the two capitals. They would then board the train for the north.

But it was important that she should arrive in Archangel before the middle of October, as by that time the river begins to freeze and the ferry carrying passengers from the station to Archangel ceases to operate, so those wishing to cross have to wait until the river freezes completely or risk crossing between the forming ice floes in a simple rowing boat.

There was one more request. The child was expected in December and therefore the christening ceremony would take place in January. His own mother had consented to be the childТs godmother and he hoped that his mother-in-law would agree to be the other. In conclusion, he wrote, he would be only too glad to pay for all the expenses incurred. When she finished reading Grandma sat for some time gazing out the window.

Across the dancing waters of the Tay, sweeping round the bay and hurrying on to the sea, were the hills of Fife and behind lay the little village of Leuchars where Grandma was born and spent her youth. Her life had been simple, revolving around the few activities in the village. The family had always lived there. The highlight of her existence came once a year when the Lammas Fair took place in the university town of St Andrews. She, her sister and brothers would all set off in the early hours of the morning and cheerfully walk the ten miles to the fair and return in the evening.

It was there that she and my grandfather met and they were later married in the ancient Norman church in Leuchars. Grandma did well for herself when she married and went to live across the water. How small her world had been in her youth! Now her mind boggled at the thought of seeing these strange foreign cities and the prospects of travelling alone as free as a bird and not at the beck and call of her master, the way it had always been, no matter where they went. But of course it was futile to indulge in any flights of wishful fancy. The whole running of the house revolved around grandfather, who was set in his ways, and would not suffer any disruption even for a few days, far less months. It was Grandma herself who was responsible for GrandpaТs dictatorial attitude. She had always firmly believed that the head of her house had to be obeyed implicitly.

This belief she not only instilled in her children but in Grandpa himself.

However, it was not for nothing that Granny was born in the Kingdom of Fife. It has been said that the people there are endowed with just that little bit more of cunning than their fellow creatures across the water.

What she had to do was to treat the letter casually and to create an impression that it did not really matter whether she went or not to Russia. To ask or to beg was to court a direct refusal. She had learned to her cost this strange contrariness in his nature. Downstairs she could hear her daughters setting the table. The midday train had already passed the house and soon all the business gentlemen would be wending their way home to lunch.

Grandma decided she would mention the contents of the letter to her daughters, but at the same time warn them to remain silent until the matter was resolved one way or the other. By her heightened colour the girls could see that their mother was more agitated than usual and in turn they also became excited. “You know Mama,” said Vicky, throwing down the forks and knives on the table, “if Papa will not allow you to go Ч then perhaps I could take your place?” “Haud your wheest,” Granny impatiently rejoined, reverting to the vernacular of her village. She had no intention of allowing anyone else to go to Russia if she couldnТt.

The sound of GrandpaТs footsteps on the gravel could be heard approaching the front entrance. “Ship Ahoy,” screamed the parrot in welcome. He had been taught by Grandpa to say many seafaring expressions, as Grandpa had always nursed a secret longing for the sea and liked to imagine himself in the role of a sturdy skipper.

It was my grandfatherТs custom, when lunch was finished, to sip a glass of cold, rich milk. During that time he read the letters that had arrived during the morning. At this point, Granny casually passed over her letter.

The girls began to clear the table while covertly watching their father.

Granny remained seated silently studying the pattern on the tablecloth.

Only the restless movements of her hands, brushing away invisible crumbs, betrayed her inner turmoil. “DonТt you think,” she suddenly said, hoping to further her cause, “it is kind of Gherman to offer to pay all my expenses?” Grandpa raised his head Ч and all the frosts of Siberia were in his eyes. “Have you no shame in your soul?” he enquired with all the scorn he could muster, “to imagine that I would be beholden to a son-in-law, and a foreigner at that?” Granny did not answer. Any hope she cherished was gone.

Grandpa rose and, laying down the letter, walked over to the window.

Rocking on his heels while sipping his milk, he appeared to be deep in thought. The girls, saddened by their motherТs mute resignation, hovered around finishing the clearing of the table.

When he had finished his milk, Grandpa turned and placed the tumbler on the table. “If you are to go to Russia,” he announced, glancing across at the dejected figure of his wife, “you had better take yourself to town and buy some warm clothes. You will need them all in that outlandish place.

And donТt be buying anything thatТs cheap and shoddy and making a fool of me in front of all these Russians. There is one thing more,” he added.

“When you are gallivanting around all the shops, you can order a silver cup for the wee crathur and see that my name is engraved on it.”

I have it still Ч a fine silver cup as a gentle reminder that many a time my grandfatherТs stern demeanour covered a generous heart.

The effect of GrandfatherТs magnanimity requires no comment. Grandma waited just long enough for his train to pass the house, and hurried off to the station to catch the next one. For the next few weeks there was joy unconfined as she rushed around shops and dressmakers. The accent had to be on elegance. She planned to make her debut in Finland in a fashionable sealskin jacket over a well-cut woollen dress. A hat to match, with a jaunty curling feather, was to complete the ensemble. During the final fitting she was so delighted with her image in the mirror that she there and then decided to have her photograph taken. Poor Granny. The monstrous fashion of high padded shoulders, the small hat, comical by present daysТ

standards, did not enhance her looks.

Grandma was kept busy up to the last day of her departure. So much had to be done. Enough jam, pickles and bottled fruit to last the winter. Full instructions for each daughter were carefully planned, written and pinned on the kitchen wall Ч all of which were blissfully ignored.

It was decided in the end that Grandma should leave at the beginning of October and arrive in Archangel at the end of the month, when normally the frozen river could bear the traffic. This plan allowed for more time to be spent in Finland and the two capitals.

Grandma enjoyed every minute of her crossing to Finland. She had never before felt so free and, not troubled by any inhibitions, chattered in a pleasant and easy manner with all the passengers. The Scandinavian cold buffet was a special delight. Blessed by a healthy appetite and free from seasickness she tasted everything, refused nothing and downed the schnapps and vodka to the manner born. When the ship docked in Helsinki, Babushka, accompanied by Oscar, was waiting. In her usual expansive way she warmly embraced and kissed Grandma. Oscar bowed and kissed her hand and, although unaccustomed to such gestures in Scotland, Granny accepted this with perfect sang-froid.

Sitting side by side in the carriage the two ladies chatted amiably. Since NellyТs arrival, BabushkaТs knowledge of English had vastly improved. A contingent of Russian soldiers, marching along the road, came towards them. “Ah zee soldiers,” Babushka sighed. Her worried eyes followed the men. “Zere is much trouble in Russia just now Ч zey vant a revolutzia and zee Finns perhaps like to kill us Russians to be free. But zee good God will save us,” she added cheerfully and crossed herself. “And here is zee house now.” The horses were drawing up beside a tall building.

Grandma had met the Yanushkovsky menage during her brief stay in Archangel. My aunt was fond of giving her daughters unusual names and had named her latest daughter Zlata. Her fourth daughter, by some strange gift from nature, possessed unusually flexible muscles and joints. Only six years of age, she was with great intrepidity and style able to perform the most difficult feats, such as turning a succession of cartwheels, walking on her hands and generally dancing and bouncing like a rubber ball. She was named Ariadna but Granny preferred to refer to her as “Acrobat”.