Granny Dan

But as he stood on the platform, watching the train, they both felt their hearts breaking, and a chapter ending that they had cherished. She hung out the window for as long as she could, and saw him standing there, waving at her, his eyes locked in hers, her locket around her neck, as she felt it with trembling fingers. He had shouted to her that he loved her, as they pulled away, and had kissed her so many times in the cottage before they left that her lips were sore, and she had had to comb her hair again twice before she left him. They were like two children being torn from their parents, and it reminded her more than a little of when her father had taken her to the ballet to live. She was just as terrified now, possibly even more so.

Madame Markova was waiting for her in the station when she arrived in St. Petersburg. She seemed taller, and thinner, and looked more severe than ever. Danina thought she looked suddenly older, and she felt as though she had been gone forever. But Madame Markova kissed her warmly, and looked deeply pleased when she saw her. Despite what had happened to Danina while she was away, she had missed Madame Markova immensely.

“You look well, Danina. Happy and rested.”

“Thank you, Madame. Everyone was wonderful to me.”

“So I understood from your letters.” There was an edge to her voice, a toughness Danina had forgotten in her. It was what drove everyone well beyond their capabilities, to please her. But she was cool as they drove to the ballet in a taxi. And Danina tried to fill the void, by telling her about her adventures with the Imperial family, and the parties she'd been to. But she had the very clear sense that she had somehow displeased her mistress, and more than ever it made Danina long for the life she had left behind at Tsarskoe Selo. But she knew she had to return now to her obligations.

“When do I begin classes again?” Danina asked as she watched the familiar city roll past them.

“Tomorrow morning. I suggest you commence exercising this afternoon to prepare yourself. I assume you have done nothing to maintain yourself during your convalescence?” Aside from Danina's few daily exercises, she had assumed correctly, and did not look pleased about it when Danina nodded.

“The doctor didn't think it wise, Madame,” was her only excuse. She did not even bother to mention the half hour of exercise she had done daily. She knew that to her ballet mistress, it would seem a negligible effort.

Madame Markova stared ahead in silence and said nothing, as the atmosphere grew thick between them.

She had been reassigned to her old room, and it filled Danina's heart with sadness when she saw the old building. Instead of feeling like a homecoming to her, it was only a reminder of how far she was now from Nikolai and their nights in the beloved cottage. She couldn't imagine spending a night without him, but she was going to have to. They both had long roads to travel separately until they could once again be together, hopefully forever.

She had thought of saying something to Madame Markova immediately about her plans, but she had decided to wait until she heard from Nikolai about the divorce and Marie's move to England. It all depended on how fast things were moving. And beneath the thin surface of her blouse, she felt the comfort of her locket.

Everyone was warming up, or rehearsing, or exercising, or in class when she arrived, and there was no one in the stark room she had left four months before. It looked strange to her now, and pitifully ugly as she changed into a leotard and ballet shoes, and hurried down the stairs to the studio she normally warmed up in. And when she got there, she saw Madame Mar-kova, sitting quietly in a corner, watching the others. Her presence made Danina feel slightly uncomfortable, but she got to work at the barre, and was stunned to discover how stiff she was, how awkward her movements, how unwilling her limbs were to do what they had been trained for.

“You have a lot of work to do, Danina,” Madame Markova said sternly, as Danina nodded. Her body had become her enemy in four brief months, and did none of the things she expected of it. And that night, when she went to bed, every muscle she had used for the first time in months was screaming at her. She could hardly sleep for the pain she felt everywhere, nor get up the next day, as she felt every muscle in her body tighten. The effect of the past four months of indolence and happiness had been brutal.

But no less so than the rigorous training she launched into at five o'clock that morning. She was in her first class at six, and worked until nine o'clock that night, and through most of it, Madame Markova watched her.