Read Online Midnight in St. Petersburg by Vanora Bennett - Free Book Online Page A

Leman remarked to his wife, who was still sitting behind the door. ‘One of those women who, without any real teaching, can master the great arts.’ He turned back to Inna and gestured proudly towards his life-companion. ‘You know Lidiya Alexeyevna here taught herself all the European languages? Before she’d travelled further than Moscow? Before she’d even turned twenty? Sheer dedication … I admire that. I really do.’
    â€˜â€™S not just women. Men do it too. You taught yourself billiards in the army, Pap,’ Barbarian called from the floor, grinning broadly.
    Leman pulled a wry face. ‘I was locked up in a closed cadet school for years. Enough time for a boy like me to learn the oddest things,’ he answered. ‘And, Barbarian, undo that shoelace right now or there’ll be trouble,’ he added, with no change of tone.
    Grinning over the scuffle that ensued, he turned back to Inna.
    â€˜So. You play beautifully, we’re all agreed on that.’ He paused. ‘Would you like to make a violin?’ His voice sounded genuinely hopeful, as if the answer were up to her.
    Inna’s mouth opened. Her flush deepened.
    Yasha’s heart was pounding. To just let her in like this – so easily – when he’d had to learn his trade beforehand, and wait for months for papers, and struggle … When he’d been thinking she was an innocent who needed protecting, and had been rushing up here ready to fight her corner for her, only to find that with one dewy look, and one showing-off tune, she’d already got them wanting her here for good. If he didn’t look out … well, the injustice of it took his breath away. Maybe old Kremer had been right about women, after all.
    â€˜Women don’t make violins,’ Madame Leman’s voice said, into the silence.
    â€˜Not ordinarily ,’ Leman said sweepingly. ‘But that was no ordinary playing.’
    â€˜But … are you actually looking for someone?’ Inna asked.
    â€˜Well, we’re training Marcus. But we get a lot of work in these days. And I’ve been thinking of taking someone else on for some time. Though you know how it is. One’s always too lazy to start the wearisome business of actually looking for someone, and wondering if they’ll get on with everyone, because by the time they start it’s already a bit late to say we don’t like the cut of your jib, and we’re all at very close quarters here, as you know, and who wants to see a quarrelsome face at breakfast? Now, if only it were you, well – you’re already in the family, so to speak, and the question simply wouldn’t arise.’
    Inna’s disbelieving smile widened, and so did her eyes.
    There was a silence as Yasha waited, with diminishing hope, for Madame Leman, at least, to say no, quite impossible. But she didn’t.
    Eventually, Leman turned to him, nodding excitedly. ‘Good idea?’
    Yasha only knew what he was going to do as he did it.
    â€˜She can’t,’ he said, stepping forward into the room, composing his face into a half-smile. ‘She has no documents. She got here on a stolen passport.’
    The smile hovered on Inna’s face, diminishing over several agonizingly slow seconds as she struggled to understand what he’d done. And what did, finally, replace the hope that had been written on her was unmistakably the crumpled misery of a child with no home to go to.
    Yasha watched, feeling terrible. Even then, she didn’t turn the accusing eyes he deserved on him. Instead, she looked first at Madame Leman, who kept her own eyes carefully fixed on her feet, and then at Monsieur Leman, whose own excitement had been replaced by the cautious, hurt expression of a man realizing he’s being taken advantage of.
    â€˜But…’ she said, pleadingly, a note of desperation in her voice, ‘even if it’s not