Chapters (84)
- Cover
- Dedication
- The Lost Daughter
- Prologue
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- Chapter 29
- Chapter 30
- Chapter 31
- Chapter 32
- Chapter 33
- Chapter 34
- Chapter 35
- Chapter 36
- Chapter 37
- Chapter 38
- Chapter 39
- Chapter 40
- Chapter 41
- Chapter 42
- Chapter 43
- Chapter 44
- Chapter 45
- Chapter 46
- Chapter 47
- Chapter 48
- Chapter 49
- Chapter 50
- Chapter 51
- Chapter 52
- Chapter 53
- Chapter 54
- Chapter 55
- Chapter 56
- Chapter 57
- Chapter 58
- Chapter 59
- Chapter 60
- Chapter 61
- Chapter 62
- Chapter 63
- Chapter 64
- Chapter 65
- Epilogue
- Acknowledgments
- An Excerpt from JACKIE AND MARIA
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- P.S. Insights, Interviews & More . . .*
- About the Author
- About the Book
- Historical Afterword
- Sources
- The Love Lives of the Romanov Daughters
- Reading Group Questions
- Praise for The Lost Daughter
- By Gill Paul
- About the Publisher
He shook his head in disgust. “Children are encouraged to inform on their parents now. And at the factory, I am forced to attend meetings where workers tell tales on coworkers. They are supposed to report if anyone is visiting the lavatory too frequently! Next they will be asking for information on what is done there.”
Maria heard no more from the Party boss about her card file, but from then on she and Peter began to be cautious what they said in front of their children. Any sensitive conversations were saved for their private time, in the bathroom or huddled under the covers in bed. They didn’t blame Stepan; it was essential for his future prospects that he become an obedient citizen of the Soviet Union.
Chapter 28
Leningrad, 1932
PETER CAME HOME ONE NIGHT WITH HAPPY NEWS. “I’ve been transferred to the sales office,” he told Maria. “They want me to negotiate with the merchants who buy our pig iron. It means no more shifting heavy machinery. My back is very grateful.” He rubbed his lower spine.
Maria threw her arms around his neck. “What an honor! I’m so glad they appreciate you.”
He grinned. “Today my boss took me to the docks to introduce me to some of the foreign merchants we do business with.” He glanced around to check none of the older children were in earshot. “Of course it means I’ll be under close scrutiny by the secret police.”
Her eyes widened. “How do you know?”
“Any Soviet citizen who has contact with foreigners is watched. What’s amusing is that they are so obvious.” He sat down and unlaced his boots. “I saw several today, sidling close to us in their long coats and fur hats, stamping their feet against the cold, cupping their hands to light a cigarette in the wind. Everyone else has a job to do, but they must stand around freezing all day!” He laughed.
“You won’t get into any trouble, will you?”
“Stop worrying, Maria!” He shook his head in amusement. “If you don’t have any real problems to worry about, you invent some. This is good news. Let’s celebrate tonight.”
One of the merchants he dealt with in those early days was a Danish man called Matthias Knudsen, who plied the Baltic in a large, rather rusty steamship. While doing business, the two men chatted about the weather and asked after each other’s family, and Peter began to question Matthias about the news that was reported in Denmark, because they heard little of the outside world in Soviet broadcasts.
“Matthias is alarmed about the rise of the fascist leader Adolf Hitler in Germany,” he told Maria. “It seems he blames the Jews for Germany’s economic woes, but Matthias says every country is suffering a downturn since the American economy collapsed in 1929.”