Fight against the Bolsheviks has begun in Crimea. There was a battle by Simferopol, 150 officers are shot to death in Sevastopol. There was a demonstration against the bourgeoisie in Yalta; everyone is panicked. Some bizarre rumours are circling. It might be so that we’ll have to leave and hide in the middle of nowhere.
We went to see Yusupov in Sosnovaya Roscha; the house that is now being built there is awkward, but cosy. There will not be that much work for Serezha, because Yusupov wants to keep everything rather simple (hospital white), and he could only paint one small studio and a private room next to it. The position of the house is wonderful. The thought of a field of violets in front of it is lovely. We were brought there and back in his car.
In the evening they wanted to ruin the atmosphere by reading newspapers, but they resisted.
Tuesday. Everything is closed down due to the Constituent Assembly day, everything is covered in flags. Serezha went to get papers twice. He was forlorn. He suggested shooting ourselves, but I told him I believed that the strong-willed will win, we just need to be patient. Serezha calmed down a little, painted a little portrait of me in a fur coat and a turban.
In the night we woke up in a state of horror – a gunshot resounded; it thundered with a reverberating echo beneath us. It was three am. Till the morning, we were half dozing, but also listening. My heart was racing. By morning we woke up. As soon as we got up, Serezha set off into town to find out what this business was all about. See more
It turns out that there had been a pogrom of jewellers, watch shops, primarily European ones; they say that it was sailors. Some vessels and boats are standing in the port – it’s terrifying. The canteen in the boarding school in Darsanovskaia was destroyed by a gunshot. People are saying a lot of terrible things. What will become of us! How are we going to feel at night? It’s nerve-wracking and terrifying. We’ve got closer to our neighbours. The whole of Yalta is anxious. Tomorrow the Tatar squadron is expected. I am afraid lest there might be something between the Russian and Tatar sailors. Oh lord, oh lord, save us.
A horrible cold has started. I am always freezing. In the morning, after the library, I go to the doctor, who tells me a bunch of unpleasant things. At lunch, a baron comes to visit to see if there were any news from mom. After lunch, at dusk, snow falls, and they play Schumann downstairs. We go to the doctor and then to the cinema.
Depressing conversations about politics. Crimea is seceding. In one week, you can only take a hundred and fifty rubles out of a bank. Soon no one will need paintings. What to do. The allies are threatening us. I cried.
In the evening we’ll have pancakes.
Last night we were burning the candle at both ends, and this morning woke with a frightful headache. We spent the entire day on the street, leaning on each other for support and crawling our way through the city. Our beating headaches spoiled most of the day for us, but our spirits restored towards the evening, and we ordered a samovar and food to our room in preparation for Leonid’s visit, who spent the whole evening with us and taught us how to play Japanese Bridge.