‘You’d think not, wouldn’t you? But they do. Six or seven months ago it looked as if Nicky appreciated the danger Rasputin was posing, even if Alicky didn’t, and he banished him to his home village in Siberia. It made a huge difference. Even Aunt Minny and Nicky’s Uncle Paul, and his brother Misha, thought the danger was over; and then Nicky and Alicky took the girls and Alexei to Spala.’

She paused, not at all the usual bouncy, vital Ducky that May was used to.

‘Did Alicky tell you about Spala, May?’

‘Yes. They go there every year, and she said she was looking forward to spending time there and getting away from the almost unbearable pressure of St Petersburg.’

Ducky put her untouched glass of champagne down. ‘I think I’d rather have a Scotch, if you don’t mind, May.’

May walked across to the drinks cabinet and said, with a deep sense of foreboding, ‘What happened at Spala?’

‘Alexei had a bleed. Botkin, the doctor who accompanies them everywhere, sent for Alexei’s blood specialist and his paediatrician and they came hot-foot to Spala, but of course there was nothing they could do.’

May had poured two tumblers of Scotch, one for Ducky and one for herself. Handing one of the tumblers to Ducky, she said, ‘And what happened? Quite obviously Alexei didn’t die.’

‘No. He didn’t. Alicky sent a telegram to Siberia asking Rasputin to pray for Alexei’s soul. Rasputin sent a telegram back telling her that Alexei wasn’t going to die, and within hours the haemorrhage had stopped and Alexei was on the road to recovery.’

Ducky took a drink of her whisky.

‘It means Rasputin’s ability to stop Alexei’s haemorrhages isn’t down to the laying on of hands or, as been suggested, to hypnotism, because this time when he stopped the bleeding he wasn’t even with Alexei.’

She stubbed her cigarette out and lit another one. ‘After Spala, Nicky finally told his mother, his brother Misha, who is next in line to the throne after Alexei, and his one surviving uncle, Uncle Paul, the truth about Alexei’s disease, although that hasn’t made things any better. Instead of them finally feeling sympathy for Alicky, they hate her for having brought the disease into the family. Plus Misha doesn’t want to be heir to the throne. His mistress, with whom he has a child, has finally obtained a divorce and, only weeks ago, after breaking his promise to Nicky that he wouldn’t do so, Misha married her. And if Misha falls by the wayside when it comes to inheriting the throne, the next in line is Kyril – a thought I don’t particularly want to dwell on. Ernie, whom I am once again on good terms with, says it’s a pig’s ear, and he’s right.’