by Hilary Green
Tom advanced as if in a dream and extended his hand. ‘How do you do, sir? I hope you will forgive me for intruding without an introduction.’
Malkovic shook hands with him and greeted him in his own language, adding, ‘Will you have a glass of wine?’
Leo handed Tom a goblet and out of force of habit he raised it to Malkovic. ‘Your health, sir.’
Sasha looked past him at Leo. ‘What has he come for? To take you home?’
‘Oh, no!’ she replied, ‘He is here out of concern for me, to make sure I am all right, that is all.’ She turned to Tom. ‘Did you come on the train? I expect you’re tired.’ His pallor and look of confusion gave credence to the assumption.
‘Yes, but—’
She cut across him, turning back to Sasha. ‘My friend is not strong. He’s exhausted after the journey. Is there somewhere he can rest?’
Malkovic lifted his shoulders. ‘Why not in your tent?’
‘Of course,’ Leo said hastily. ‘Will you excuse us? I think he should lie down at once.’
‘As you please.’ He turned away to his table. ‘I have work to do, anyway.’
Leo looked at him and knew that he was suspicious of this newcomer, and possibly jealous as well. That was something she could try to sort out later. For the moment, Tom was the priority. She took him by the arm.
‘Come with me to somewhere we can talk.’
He nodded and put down his goblet, and they left the tent. Outside he erupted furiously, ‘Leonora, what is going on? Why are you dressed like this?’
‘Don’t call me Leonora! I’m known as Leo here. What are you doing here, Tom?’
‘Looking for you, obviously.’
‘Why now? I’ve been gone for months.’
‘And I’ve been looking for you for months. Have you any idea of the trouble you have caused? I’ve traipsed round half of Europe looking for you. I’ve been arrested and nearly shot as a spy. I’ve been through hell on the battlefields in the west. Have you any conception of what things are like around Skopje and Bitola? I saw horrors I’ll have nightmares about for the rest of my life. And I’ve been ill. If it wasn’t for an American journalist I’d be one more corpse rotting in the mud outside Bitola. And then, just when I was recuperating in Athens and thinking you were safe home and I was free to get on with my life, I get a letter telling me you haven’t gone home and asking me to go back to Salonika to find out where you had got to. And now I find you here, like this!’
Taken aback by this furious tirade from a man who had always seemed to her so lacking in spirit Leo could only say, ‘I’m so sorry, Tom. I never imagined you would come after me. I thought my grandmother might inform the police and I might be stopped at a frontier somewhere, but I never imagined this.’ He said nothing and they walked in silence for a few minutes. Then Leo said, ‘What made you think I was safe at home?’
‘I had a letter from Ralph. He had seen that Mrs Stibbert—’
‘Stobart?’
‘Yes. And he found out that you had not come back with the other women. She told him that you and Victoria were planning to travel via Salonika, so he asked me to go there and find out which ship you were on.’
‘Yes, well, we changed our plans. Victoria went home without me.’
‘I know.’
‘How?’
‘She told me.’
‘You saw Victoria?’
‘After a fashion. She was on board a ship that was just setting sail. We yelled to each other from the deck to the dock. She told me you were here but she said you were nursing typhus patients.’
‘I was when she left. I’m . . . doing something different now.’
‘That much is apparent! Well, I suppose it is something to be grateful for. At least you are away from the danger of infection.’
‘How did you know where to find me?’
‘I asked at the hospital. They directed me to Colonel Malkovic’s tent. But what on earth has got into you, to dress like this?’
They had reached her tent. ‘Come in,’ she said, holding the flap aside. ‘Sit down and I’ll try to explain.’
He sank onto the bed that had once been Victoria’s and she sat opposite. In the close confines of the tent their knees were almost touching.
‘Is this where you sleep?’
‘Yes.’
‘Not with him?’
‘Of course not! What sort of a man do you take him for? He thinks I’m a boy.’
‘Precisely my point!’
She laughed suddenly. ‘Oh come on, Tom! Think about it. It isn’t possible.’
He ran his hand over his face. ‘Of course. I’m sorry. I’m just confused. Dear God, Leo! When I first saw you just now I thought you were Ralph. Not Ralph as he is now, but as he was seven, eight years ago, when we were at school. I felt as though I had stepped into a time machine.’
‘Poor Tom!’ she said, smiling. ‘No wonder you looked stunned.’
‘I’m still stunned. Please explain!’
Leo drew a deep breath. ‘It started when I was working in the field hospital at Chataldzha, before Christmas. My skirt got so muddy and wet it was impossible to wear, so I left it off and just wore the tunic and breeches. I wasn’t trying to look like a man, just to be practical. And I cut my hair because I couldn’t get it dry and I was afraid of catching cold. One day Sasha came riding by and he mistook me for a boy. I didn’t disillusion him because I knew that he has very strong views about women anywhere near the front line. He found out I could speak Turkish and asked me to help him interrogate a prisoner. Then, when I got here, he found out I could write Greek as well and offered me a position as a sort of secretary.’
‘And you have never told him who you really are?’
‘I’ve told you, he would send me away if he knew. And I’ll never forgive you, Tom, if you give me away!’
For a moment their eyes met and she saw that her vehemence had shocked him. Then he shrugged. ‘Well, it’s immaterial now. Get your things together. If we are quick we can catch the train before it leaves for Salonika.’
‘Leaves!’ She stared at him. ‘I’m not leaving, Tom. You can go, if you like, but I’m staying here.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous! I’ve come to fetch you home.’
‘I’m not a child! I don’t need to be fetched. I’ll make my own way home when I’m ready.’
‘But why? Don’t you want to go home?’
‘Why should I? What have I got to look forward to when I get home. Grandmother will probably lock me up. The best I can hope for is to be sent off to Cheshire, with someone who will watch me like a . . . like a criminal . . . in case I try to escape again.’
His expression softened. ‘Leo, there’s something I must tell you. It’s bad news, I’m afraid. Your grandmother is dead.’
Leo swayed as if he had struck her. ‘Dead? When? How?’
‘A few weeks ago. I only found out from Ralph’s letter. It was a stroke.’
She ran both hands through her hair. ‘Was it my fault? Was it because of what I did?’
He shook his head and took her hands. ‘No, I really don’t think so. It happened so long after you left. She was an old lady, Leo. It was just . . . the natural order of things.’
‘But now I shall never see her again. Never be able to explain . . . never be able to tell her I’m sorry.’
Her tears fell on his hands and he leaned forward and kissed the top of her head. ‘Don’t cry, my dear. She’s in a better place and, who knows, perhaps she can look down and see that you are contrite.’
‘But I’m not,’ Leo wept. ‘I’ll never regret what I’ve done and she would have stopped me doing it. So why am I crying?’
‘Because, for all the arguments and cross words between you, you loved her. And she loved you.’
‘I suppose so, in her way.’
‘Well,’ he said, ‘look on the positive side. It means that Ralph is now your legal guardian. That’s good, isn’t it?’
‘Ralp
h!’ She jerked upright and stared at Tom. ‘No! No, it isn’t good. It’s worse.’
‘What on earth makes you say that?’
‘You know how pompous and self-important he has become. All that matters to him is his “honour”, his reputation. He hated me being in the FANY. If I go home now he’ll make my life a misery.’
‘Oh, come on now! I think you’re being unjust.’
‘Am I? You saw what it was like when Victoria and I wanted to go to camp. He’d have stopped me if he could.’
She saw that he remembered and understood. ‘But what do you propose to do?’ he asked. ‘If you don’t go home, I mean.’
She shook her head sadly. ‘I don’t know. Stay here until the siege ends. It can’t be much longer now. And then . . . I’ll be twenty in a week or two, Tom. In another year I shall be of age and my own mistress. I’ve been working as a nurse in the hospital here. I expect the doctors could find me a job somewhere.’
‘You would rather do that . . . that menial work . . . than come home?’
‘It’s not menial, Tom!’ she responded with a flash of anger. ‘It’s hard and sometimes very distressing, but it’s useful and important. I would rather do that than sit at home twiddling my thumbs.’
He gave her a look as if he was seeing her for the first time. Then he said, ‘I think I can understand that – and I admire you for it. But what is it about what you are doing right now that is so important? Is it Colonel Malkovic?’
She met his eyes and saw that he had guessed her secret. Emboldened by his look she said, ‘Yes. I know it’s foolish but I can’t help myself.’ She gave him a wry smile. ‘It looks as though we are both fated to pine for something we can never have.’
The colour rose in his face and for a moment she thought he was going to repudiate the suggestion. Then he sighed and nodded. ‘I’m afraid you’re right.’
She leaned forward and pressed her advantage. ‘Tom, you must see what would happen if I go home now. Ralph will be more determined than ever to see us married. Neither of us wants that. It would be misery for both of us. But as long as I am dependent on him it will be very difficult to resist. Isn’t it better for me to keep out of his way as long as I can?’
‘That’s all very well,’ he said, ‘but if I go back without you how am I going to explain it to him?’
‘Tell him I refused point blank to come with you. After all, you have no authority over me. Short of binding me hand and foot and kidnapping me you can’t make me come. You go home, Tom – or go wherever it was you were planning to go. Tell Ralph you found me and I’m in good health and not in any danger and I’ll find my own way home when . . . when I’m ready.’ She reached out and touched his hand. ‘Give me these few days, Tom. It matters so much. Please!’
He squeezed her fingers. ‘Poor Leo. How is it all going to end? Why don’t you explain to him, as you have to me?’
She shook her head. ‘He would think I had deceived him, which I have. He would be furious. He is a proud man and he could not bear to think he had been taken in like that.’
‘So what do you expect to happen?’
‘I don’t know. I just want to make the most of it while it lasts.’
‘All right. But I’m not going to leave you here. I’ll stay, if Malkovic will let me.’
She considered. ‘I don’t suppose he will object. Hospitality to visitors is a very important part of the culture here – and he will probably enjoy having someone new to talk to. But what will you do with yourself. You’ll be bored to death. There’s nothing to occupy you here.’
‘Yes, there is. When I was travelling through those battlegrounds I started drawing what I saw along the way, no matter how terrible it was. There must be plenty of things I can sketch here, to add to what I have already. I should be grateful to you. I was vegetating in London, living in a dream, and you forced me to get out into the world and face reality. When I get home I plan to have a small exhibition, or perhaps produce a book. I have already had a few pictures published in the papers back in England. I want people to see the horror of war, so perhaps they won’t want to rush into another one.’
Leo leaned forward and grasped his hands. ‘Tom, I am so pleased! It’s exactly what I want, too, but your pictures will be far more powerful than anything I could say. You’ll stay, then, for a while?’
‘For a while,’ he said, and smiled suddenly. ‘I don’t know, Leo. You’ve led us all a merry dance, but I take my hat off to you. I couldn’t do what you’ve done.’
‘Yes, you could, if the need arose,’ she said. ‘It’s surprising what one can do, if pushed. Now, why don’t you get some rest? I know what that train journey is like.’
He stretched. ‘Yes, perhaps I will.’
Leo rose. ‘I must go back to Sasha. Somehow I’ve got to explain you turning up out of the blue like this.’ She got up. ‘You can use that bed, and Victoria’s sleeping bag. She left it behind in her rush to be off. I’ll come and collect you later.’
‘But, Leo!’ he expostulated. ‘We can’t both sleep in this tent. It wouldn’t be decent.’
She gave him a wry grin. ‘I don’t think we have any choice, Tom. But don’t worry. We’ll find a way to preserve our modesty somehow. Anyway, for now you have it to yourself. Sleep well.’
When she got back to the colonel’s tent he was already eating. He sat back and gave her one of those searching looks. ‘So, your friend is resting?’
‘Yes.’
‘He seems a good deal older than you. It must be an unusual friendship.’
‘We were at school together. He was in his last year when I arrived there. I was his fag. You know what that means?’
‘A system of institutional slavery, as I understand it.’
She managed a smile. ‘Something close to that.’
‘But is it not unusual for such a relationship to result in a lasting friendship?’
‘He is a family friend. He came on behalf of my grandparents.’ The lie caught in her throat and she swallowed hard. He looked at her more keenly.
‘Something is wrong. What is it?’
‘My grandmother is dead. She died of a stroke a few weeks ago. I shall never see her again.’
He got up and came to her, putting his hands on her shoulders. ‘Poor lad! For you it must be like the death of a mother. I am sorry.’
She longed to lay her head against his chest and weep, but she knew if she did they would be a woman’s tears so she choked them back and rubbed her hand across her face. ‘Thank you, but I must be strong. After all, what is one death among so many? Thousands must be weeping, even now.’
He nodded and patted her shoulder and then turned away. ‘Come and drink some wine. Have you eaten?’
Towards evening she fetched some warm water from the kitchens and woke Tom. When he had dressed and washed they walked back towards the Serbian camp.
‘You will be careful, Tom,’ she begged. ‘Don’t call me Leonora.’
‘I’ll try to remember. But it’s not going to be easy keeping up this charade, you know.’
‘Oh well,’ she said, ‘there’s one comfort. Sasha doesn’t understand English, so if you make a slip he won’t notice.’
In the mess tent Malkovic insisted that Tom sit next to him, and called Leo to his other side to translate. The conversation was laborious, but focussed mainly on Tom’s experiences in his search for Leo. He told them about his arrest in Belgrade, which provoked some hilarity among the officers listening, and then about what he had seen along the road, which was greeted very differently. By the time the meal was over Leo felt that Sasha was less suspicious of him, and had even begun to like him.
Back in Sasha’s tent later Tom brought out his sketches and told him what he intended, asking his permission to make more drawings in the camp.
Malkovic nodded gravely. ‘I applaud your intentions. I am a soldier by profession, but I have seen too much cruelty in the last months. Let us pray that the conference in London comes
to some conclusion soon, so we can all go home.’
‘Amen,’ said Tom. But Leo turned away and was silent.
Twenty
The snow melted, revealing the camp in all its filth and squalor. A cold wind dried the mud to dust and sent it blowing into faces and food and clothing, but they discovered on their daily rides that the plain was studded with tiny wild flowers, crocuses and orchids and pale pink cyclamen. It was during these rides that Leo began to learn a little more about Sasha’s background and to understand the sardonic reserve with which he masked his real feelings. She also discovered that he was younger than she had thought, less than ten years older than herself. His father had died when he was just eighteen, and he had been left with the responsibility of looking after his mother and his two sisters, together with the family estates.
‘How did your father die?’ she asked.
He pursed his lips and for a moment she thought he was not going to answer. Then he said, ‘Do you know anything about how our last king, King Aleksander, met his end?’
Leo trawled her memory. ‘Wasn’t he assassinated?’
‘Yes, he was. In many ways it was necessary. Aleksander Obrenovic was an arrogant fool who had married a woman, Queen Draga, who was little better than a streetwalker. She was unable to bear him children, so the next in line to the throne were her two brothers, who were universally hated. But it was when she persuaded him to turn on the army and purge all those who disliked her and her family that some of the officers decided the situation had become intolerable. Led by a man called Dragutin Dimitrijevic they burst into the palace one night with drawn swords, intent on slaughtering the king and queen in their bed.’ He paused, his brows drawn together. ‘My father was captain of the Royal Guard. They confronted the assassins in the main courtyard. He had no liking for Draga and her brothers, but he had sworn an oath and he knew his duty. The conspirators cut him down and went on to murder the king and queen.’
‘That must have been terrible for you and your family,’ Leo said. ‘But you must be proud of him.’
‘Proud? Yes. But I found myself caught between the two factions. I had just joined the army and my sympathies were mainly with the conspirators. Yet my father had behaved honourably and I could not disown him.’