Maid of Baikal: A Novel of the Russian Civil War

The next morning, Madame Timiryova paid Zhanna a call at her borrowed flat, bringing a seamstress to take Zhanna’s measure for a smart outfit she could wear while going about town to meet with high officials and prominent civilians. Though neither the Supreme Ruler nor Zhanna’s clerical examiners had objected until now to her wearing men’s clothing, as it was the only attire she possessed, it had grown shabby and the girl now delighted at the prospect of having pretty frocks to wear, perhaps even like the ones she found in her hostess’s closet. She marveled at the variety of fabrics and styles presented to her, rubbing each swatch of cloth between finger and thumb and pressing the most elegant satins and velvets against her cheek. She inhaled deeply: it was the smell of glamor. And while Madame Timiryova was visiting, she invited Zhanna to her flat on Nikolsky Avenue for tea later in the week to meet a few of her closest friends.

* * *

Zhanna arrived at Madame Timiryova’s apartment at the appointed hour, wearing a pleated white blouse and dark gored skirt from her hostess’s closet that the seamstress had altered to fit her.

Though she arrived precisely on time, nine or ten other women were already seated in the parlor, and Zhanna could not help wondering if they had been invited to come at a time earlier than hers.

Most of the guests were in their late twenties or early thirties, like her hostess, with only one or two noticeably older. Madame Timiryova took Zhanna around the room and presented her to each guest in turn. All had heard or read about the Maid and seemed delighted to meet her.

Without exception, the women belonged to the upper classes, being wives or daughters of bankers, merchants, diplomats, and the like, with several being British nationals who spoke Russian surprisingly well. Zhanna overheard one of the British women speak in an animated voice about the suffragist movement at home, where, during the previous year, certain categories of women had gained the right to vote, and female candidates were now permitted to stand for election to Parliament.

“Certainly, women need more influence over government everywhere,” Madame Timiryova agreed. “And not least of all here in Russia.”

The other women smiled and nodded. For while Russian women had gained the right to vote in 1917 under the Provisional Government, and that right had been confirmed by the Soviet regime, Admiral Kolchak’s Siberian government allowed only men to vote in local and regional elections.

The last guest to be introduced was a tall, blonde, somewhat severe woman, dressed in an elegant blue wool walking-suit.

“Yulia Yekaterinovna, please allow me to introduce Zhanna Stepanovna,” Madame Timiryova began. “Zhanna, Yulia is my dearest friend in all the world. It is she who graciously put her downtown flat at your disposal.”

“Oh, Madame Yushnevskaya!” Zhanna gushed, having not met her benefactress before. “I am so very indebted to you for allowing me to live under your roof! I don’t know what I would have done…”

“Not at all,” Yulia assured her. “It is Anna Vasilyevna who deserves the credit. It was her idea. The flat is vacant nearly all the time now, but for the housekeeper.”

“I wish I could repay you somehow,” the girl answered. “But I have scarcely a ruble left to my name. I have relied completely on the generosity of others since I left Irkutsk in February.”

“As well you should,” Madame Timiryova replied, taking her arm. “The Bible tells us that we should receive the stranger as if he were the Christ in disguise. All of us in this room support your work, Zhanna. Please consider us your friends, and accept whatever help we are able to offer to further your cause.”

“Thank you ever so much, Madame Timiryova,” Zhanna answered, her face flushed with gratitude.

“Please, call me Anna,” her hostess insisted.

“And likewise, call me Yulia,” her benefactress added before going on to ask a question of the girl. “I understand you are awaiting word of a possible assignment to the Urals Front,” she said. “Have you received any further word on it from the Admiral?”

“I expect a decision any day now,” Zhanna answered with a confident smile. “And I can’t wait to go!”

The two older women exchanged amused glances, their eyebrows raised to the limit.

“What an extraordinary experience it would be!” Yulia remarked, directing a bright smile toward Zhanna. “Though, as a woman, I’m sure you’re aware of how delicate that might prove. Tell me, have you made plans in case your request is denied? Would you return to Lake Baikal, or perhaps travel abroad to continue your studies?”

“Oh, I am certain of going to the front,” the Maid answered, standing tall with her head lifted and her hands clasped behind her back, in an almost military pose. “St. Michael has promised me that much. Only the exact location remains unclear to me.”

Again the two older women exchanged glances, but this time they were not smiling.