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- Herausgeber: BookRix
- Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
- Sprache: Englisch
In the very old, time becomes confused but often the soul indicates it is preparing for its last journey.
Set in pre-revolututionary Russia, Sofya Andreyevna, now ninety two, seeks a time in her life that was for her a golden age.
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Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2016
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The Last Journey
To my mother. For the rail buffs the engine on the cover is a Russian Ob (Ov) series, built and used between 1890 to 1915 in Imperial Russia.BookRix GmbH & Co. KG81371 MunichThe Last Journey
Characters appearing in the text:
Sofya Andreyevna; grandmother, widow.
Masha: maid to the above.
Pyotr: gardener.
Nikolay Andreyev, the elder: long deceased husband of Sofya.
Nikolay Andreyev: oldest son of Sofya Andreyevna.
Evgeny Andreyev: middle child of Sofya.
Anna Andreyevna: daughter of Sofya.
Dr Ifshin: family doctor.
Povarskaya, Moscow 1905 - the house of Sofya Andreyevna.
“The House is so quiet now,” said Sofya Andreyevna.
“Your children have all flown the nest,” said Masha her maid.
They both sat in the conservatory taking tea. Sofya Andreyevna was now ninety two. Over the years the relationship between mistress and maid had become familiar.
There were no other staff to keep up the town house except Pyotr the gardener.
The house in Povarskaya was neo classical with an imposing doorway and large windows. In summer it was pleasant enough but in winter in was haunted by cold draughts that swirled up and down the stairs.
“Anna my daughter has been at me again,” said Sofya Andreyevna.
“About what?” replied the maid.
The sun shone in through the glass; it was warm and pleasant on the skin. The plants filled the air with the scent of growth.
“I don’t want to go and live with her,” said Sophia between mouthfuls of cake. “She is so bossy.”
“But your ladyship this house is getting difficult for you with your bad leg.”
It was true. Of late she had struggled with the stairs.
“What do you want to do?” Said Masha.
“I want to be with Nikolay in Manturovo.
There again thought Masha – the old lady kept returning to the theme.
“But its 650 kms from Moscow – it’s in the Styx.”
“No my dear – there the air is pure, the trees are green and the fields are lush.
When Nikolay and I set up house there the sun always shone; my children played freely in the meadows – so many flowers.”
The old lady’s eyes looked off into the distance. She could see it now; the small estate and her new husband on horseback, riding out to give orders to the farmhands. He was so upright so handsome.
“But there is no one there now. Don’t you remember after he died you all moved here to the Moscow house.”
“He died? How?”
“He fell while out riding – broke his back,” said Masha.
The old lady’s face took on a tight shocked look as if the pain was as acute as when it had happened.
“Nikolay, Nikolay my beautiful man”; she burst into tears.
Masha waited patiently.
This would pass. Recently there had been many times when that moment was revisited.
“And what happened then?” She asked.
“You all came here; you and young Nikolay, Evgeny and Anna.”
