“So, I think because you not need school until Monday, we spend weekend with my friends!” She had a curious habit of making everything sound as though it were an announcement of enormous importance, and that the girls should be incredibly pleased with her. “They havedacha. Do you know what that is?” Her eyebrows flew up. “It’s … little house … in country … for holidays and weekends. North of city.” Dr. Starova was speaking rapidly but smoothly, as if she were rehearsing lines for a play.
Sophie couldn’t think what to say. She was sure that Miss Ellis had told them they would be going to a suburb of Saint Petersburg called Stary Beloostrov, which wasn’t in the country at all. “We aren’t going to your apartment?” she asked.
“We go to country.” Dr. Starova looked faintly annoyed. “I told you.”
“But I have to go shopping tomorrow,” Delphine said.
“Shopping?” Dr. Starova said this word as if it were the most lunatic thing she had heard.
“I have to get special notebooks for my mother. From the shop on Nevsky Prospekt. And a chocolate carriage from the shop near the Stroganov Palace.” Her cheeks became pink. “That’s really important.”
“But how you send chocolate carriage to your mother?” Dr. Starova said. “It not possible!”
“But that’s the most important thing. She needs the carriage by Tuesday. She’s doing a shoot. A Cinderella jewelry shoot. For a magazine!”
Dr. Starova shrugged. “I know this shop. There is no more carriage. Only …” She thought for a moment. “… chocolate yacht! Rich people in Russia not want carriage. They want yacht!” She smiled at Delphine.
Delphine looked as if she was about to say something else, but Dr. Starova turned her head away and looked out of the carriage window. The conversation was clearly over.
The train slowed down. It jolted and stopped. They were at the first station. Sophie saw people crowding on the platform and heard large, loud Russian voices. Dr. Starova looked out of the window. There was a crease between her eyes, as if the girls were irritating her now. She didn’t say anything.
The train picked up speed again as it left the station. Dr. Starova reached into her handbag and brought out their tickets. She checked the names and handed one to each of the girls in turn. They were large, the paper faintly marbled, incomprehensible Russian letters swarming all over them. She glanced at her watch. “I think we arrive by nine,” she said. “It not far.”
“But that’s two hours away!” Marianne said. “How can you say that’s not far?”
“We are in Russia.” Dr. Starova looked even more irritated. “It is large country.” She smoothed her skirt again.
“This isn’t on our itinerary!” Marianne pulled a piece of paper out of her coat pocket, unfolded it, and read out the details. “It says we will be staying with our host families in Saint Petersburg!” She thrust the paper at Dr. Starova. “See? You can read it for yourself!”
Dr. Starova took the paper from Marianne, held it far away from her, as if she needed glasses, then shrugged, as if what was written on the paper was of no interest to her.
“I will fetch you some tea,” she said, standing up and sliding into her coat. She put Marianne’s itinerary in her pocket. “I think perhaps you thirsty.”
“Thank you very much.” Sophie smiled, trying to be polite. “I’m sorry … we’re not being ungrateful … it’s very kind of you …”
The woman picked up her handbag.
“We’re just a bit tired,” Sophie added, although she wasn’t sure that Dr. Starova had heard as she slipped quickly out of the compartment.
“Do we want to go to the country?” Delphine asked. “I’m not sure I want to. I don’t care what Dr. Starova says about chocolate yachts! I don’t want to leave Saint Petersburg. I have a lot of shopping to do.”
“She’s just trying to do something nice for us,” Sophie said. “Show us a bit more of Russia.”
“But what am I going to do about the chocolate shop?” Delphine said, her voice wound tight. “And the notebooks? What will I tell my mother? She’s relying on me.”
Sophie reached across and squeezed her hand. “We’ll sort it out.”
Delphine took a deep breath and squeezed Sophie’s hand back.
“Just think. Everyone else is taking the cooking course,” Marianne sighed. “Probably drinking hot chocolate with marshmallows and playing Scrabble …”
The train slowed down for another station, this one much less busy. Sophie watched the dark-coated figures get off the train, their breath escaping in great clouds. She tried to read the letters of the name of the station, but couldn’t make head nor tail of them.
“It’s odd how Russian looks so foreign,” she said, more to herself than to her friends. “It’s so frustrating not even knowing where to start.”
She watched a woman walk quickly up the platform, her hands thrust into her pockets, her arms close to her side. Black hair like petals and a tapestry coat.
“Dr. Starova!” she called, banging on the window.
