The House of Special Purpose by John Boyne Read Free Book Online Page A

Saviour, but do you feel saved, Daniil Vladyavich? Do you, Georgy Daniilovich? Or do you feel cold and hungry and desirous of your freedom?’
    ‘Go inside and prepare yourself,’ said my father, ignoring his friend and pointing a finger in my direction. ‘You will not disgrace me by appearing before such a great man in your nakedness.’
    ‘Yes, Father,’ I said, bowing quickly to his own autocracy and rushing inside in search of a clean tunic. As I rustled through the small pile of clothes that constituted my entire wardrobe, I heard more raised voices outside the hut, followed by the sound of my friend, Kolek, telling his father that they should go home and prepare themselves too. That shouting on the street was of no use to anyone, loyalist or radical.
    ‘If I was a younger man,’ I heard Borys Alexandrovich say as he was led away. ‘I tell you, my son, if I was only—’
    ‘ I am a younger man,’ came the reply, and I thought nothing of Kolek’s words at the time, nothing at all. It was only later that I remembered them and cursed myself for my stupidity.
    It was no more than an hour later when the first advance guards appeared on the horizon and began to make their way towards Kashin. Although common moujik s such as we knew only the names of the immediate Imperial family, the Grand Duke Nicholas Nicolaievich, the Tsar’s first cousin, was famous throughout Russia for his military exploits. He was not loved, of course. Men such as he never are. But he was revered and blessed with a fearful reputation. During the revolution of 1905, it was rumoured that he had brandished a revolver in front of the Tsar and threatened to blow his own brains out if his cousin did not permit the creation of a Russian constitution, and for that he wasadmired by many. Although those who were more inclined towards radical thought, like Borys Alexandrovich, cared nothing for such bravery; they saw only a title and an oppressor and a person to be despised.
    However, the idea that the Grand Duke was close at hand was enough to send a frisson of excitement and fear through my heart. I could not recall when we had last experienced such anticipation in Kashin. As the riders grew ever closer, almost everyone in the village swept the street clean before their izba , creating a clear route for the horses of this most illustrious of visitors.
    ‘Who will he have to accompany him, do you think?’ my sister Asya asked me as we stood by our doorway, a family gathered together, waiting to wave and cheer. Her cheeks were even more rouged than usual and her dress was pulled up towards her knees, displaying her legs beneath. ‘Some of the young princes from St Petersburg, perhaps?’
    ‘The Grand Duke has no sons for you,’ I replied, smiling at her. ‘You will have to cast your net wider still.’
    ‘ He might notice me though,’ she said with a shrug.
    ‘Asya!’ I cried, appalled but amused by her. ‘He’s an old man. He must be nearly sixty if he is a day. And he is married, too. You can’t believe that—’
    ‘I’m just teasing you, Georgy,’ she replied, laughing as she slapped my shoulder playfully, although I wasn’t entirely sure that she was. ‘But nevertheless, there are sure to be some available young soldiers among his retinue. If one of them was to take an interest in me … oh, don’t look so scandalized! I’ve told you before that I don’t intend to spend my life in this miserable place. I’m eighteen years old, after all. It’s time I found a husband before I grow too ancient and ugly to marry.’
    ‘And what of Ilya Goryavich?’ I asked, referring to the young man with whom she spent much of her time. Like my friend Kolek, poor Ilya was madly in love with Asya and she offered him a little affection in return, no doubt encouraging him to believethat she might give herself to him entirely in time. I pitied him for his stupidity. I knew that he was little more than a plaything for my sister, a marionette