to be seduced by Eve because he loved her.”
“And ever since,” smiled Sergei, “men have been led into temptation by women.”
“Papa,” said Tatiana, “that's not fair. If Satan had chosen Adam instead of Eve to eat the fruit, he probably would have found a way to persuade him. Men are just as likely to succumb to temptation as women. Then Adam would have tempted Eve, and the whole world would be different.”
Sergei laughed. “I think we are creating a suffragist, Dimitri. Your pupil is able to turn every argument into a defence of women's rights.”
“I apologize, Mr. Relnikov. I had no idea I was dealing with someone who could use reason so effectively to exert her free will.”
“Ah,” said Sergei. “Perhaps you and God both made the same mistake.”
Tatiana laughed. “You two like to think that men are superior to women and that women were created to serve men.”
“Well,” said Sergei, “weren't they? Doesn't the Bible say that Eve was created to serve Adam and God?”
“Yes. But Eve didn't want to be inferior. She wanted to be equal. She says:
‘And render me more equal, and perhaps,
A thing not understandable, sometime
Superior; for inferior who is free?
“She wanted to be free, which is what everybody wants. If God didn't want Adam and Eve to sin, why did he put the Tree of Knowledge in Paradise? Why did he put free will and temptation on the same plate?”
“It's a good question, Tatushka.” Sergei was genuinely pleased at his daughter's intellectual progress. “Why do you think he did this?”
“Perhaps God needed to provide the opportunity for mercy and forgiveness. How could he be seen as a benevolent God if nobody ever needed forgiving? Why does God even need to exist if everyone is perfect?”
“But if that is the case,” said Dimitri, “then it was in God's divine plan all along that Adam and Eve would be expelled from Paradise for succumbing to temptation. So what your father said is true. God let Adam and Eve destroy Paradise. He was powerful enough.”
Tatiana looked at Dimitri then at her father. They had brought the argument full circle, and she hadn't seen it coming.
Tatiana was still tied to Olga and Jean Paul by invisible strings, but they were beginning to chafe. Despite her interest in her studies, Sergei had begun to sense that Tatiana's desire for independence might get her into trouble, so he did not allow her to go out without a chaperone. He had even started searching for a possible husband for her, a prospect that made her nervous and irritable. She endured many lectures that year about her frequent bad moods and controlling her temper. Mostly, her family's efforts to rein her in just made Tatiana angrier and more determined to break away as soon as possible. Olga, on the other hand, could not wait to be married. Tatiana could muster no enthusiasm for such a future. She was not ready for a husband, marriage, or, God forbid, children. Her father often despaired, knowing that the day would come when he could no longer make decisions for her.
Tatiana was becoming a beautiful young woman. She was tall, like her maternal grandmother, with thick, honey-coloured hair and a fair complexion, which she enhanced by avoiding the sun and rubbing lemon juice on her skin. Tatiana had the kind of face that didn't need make-up, but she was vain about her appearance and liked to dress up and wear powder and lipstick to emphasize her features. Her grey eyes were deep-set, with slightly hooded lids, and she was learning to use them in a way that made people uncomfortable when she stared at them.
Olga resembled the women on Sergei's side of the family. She was a good five inches shorter than Tatiana, with a thick waist and sturdy legs. Her hair was darker than her father's, and so curly that it would tighten into a frizzy ball when the air was humid. She had straight, no-nonsense eyebrows and brown eyes that were almost black. This, combined with her square jaw, gave her the appearance of matronly authority. All she needed was a nun's wimple and robes and she could have been Mother Superior. When she walked with her sister in the streets of the French Concession, the young men looked at Tatiana, not Olga. Fortunately, Jean Paul, who was shorter than Tatiana but taller than Olga, balding and underweight, was devoted to Olga, and they were planning to marry as soon as he completed his army service.
The war in Europe continued, and each year more young Frenchmen were shipped home to do their duty. The few who returned brought back grim stories of something called trench warfare that made Tatiana think of the slimy gutters of Shanghai. She couldn't imagine having to spend days in one of them while being shot at round the clock. Every day she thanked God that she had been born a woman. She had been studying the battles of the great commanders from Caesar to Napoleon, and was fascinated by their strategic and tactical abilities, but it was all in the realm of the imagination for her. She wasn't hearing about the horrors of those battles first hand. Many of the young men Tatiana had known didn't come back from the war, but she refused to believe they'd all been killed. They must have chosen to stay in Paris, she decided. Given the choice between Paris and Shanghai, why would they come back? Much as she loved Shanghai, Tatiana imagined Paris to be a city of stylish and elegant people, as far removed from the chattering masses of China as a swan was from a chicken.
Things became glum in the Relnikov household when Jean Paul left for France. Olga worried herself sick that he wouldn't return. Tatiana prayed daily that he would, mostly because she liked him and really wanted Olga to marry him and be happy, but also because she missed going out in the evenings to the cabarets. Her studies kept her occupied during the day, but at night she wanted to go dancing.
Soon it was June and Tatiana's eighteenth birthday. She had not changed her mind about marriage and children, as her parents had hoped she might. She was growing tired of reading and studying but decided it was the lesser of two evils and far more preferable than marriage.
Lily returned in September. It was apparent as soon as she was home that the plans for her wedding were about to be launched. She and Tatiana had a brief few weeks to themselves, during which Lily told her all about her experiences in Switzerland. Her letters had said a lot, but not everything. It wasn't until Tatiana watched Lily's face as she talked that she realized how much her friend had enjoyed her taste of freedom. Lily's eyes sparkled, and she chattered on and on about all the girls in her class, the friendships she had formed, the school, the teachers, the mountains, and the food, which she had hated. “So bad,” she said. “Dairy, dairy, dairy. Too much cheese. Too much milk. Not healthy.”
Tatiana laughed as Lily showed her how she had been taught to walk with a book on her head, sit with her ankles crossed and serve tea while making polite conversation. Lily's French had improved greatly, but she still couldn't make the throaty “r” sound that only the French seem able to do. And she had never mastered the rolling “r” that Mrs. Wilkinson had prized so highly. Neither, for that matter, had Tatiana.
Lily seemed to have developed a confidence and a charm that she had not possessed when she left. She had been transformed from a shy and awkward girl into a graceful young woman. Tatiana towered over her by about seven inches, and her feet and hands seemed huge compared to Lily's delicate, manicured fingers and toes. Tatiana envied the fragile Oriental beauty Lily had acquired, the gentle voice she spoke with and the still serenity she possessed. Tatiana felt like a giraffe next to her friend.
A wedding date had been set for Lily's marriage to Tang Wu-ling. It had been chosen as a lucky day, declared so by an astrologer because of an auspicious formation of the planets. It was to be a traditional Chinese wedding, and gifts had already begun to arrive. Lily
