by Hilary Green
‘Major Frobisher is at lunch,’ the butler responded. ‘You will have to wait.’
‘I can’t wait,’ Leo said. ‘I am an English woman and I have some vital information which the major must hear at once.’ The statement was not exactly accurate but she judged that it was an approach that would strike a chord with the military mind.
At that moment a servant passed through the hallway where they stood carrying a tray and disappeared through one of the doors. Guessing that this was the door of the dining room Leo marched across to it and went in. The major was having lunch with a lady, but Leo paid no attention to her. Instead her eyes went to the plates on the table, which bore the remains of their meal. Beyond them, on a sideboard, was what was left of a chicken and a joint of beef.
Frobisher looked up sharply. ‘What the . . . ? What do you mean by barging in like this? Sergeant, who is this ragamuffin?’
‘Lady says she has vital information,’ the sergeant mumbled.
‘Lady? What lady?’
Leo found she was unable to withdraw her eyes from the food on the sideboard. ‘I am Leonora Malham Brown,’ she intoned, addressing the joint of beef. ‘I have just walked through the mountains of Albania with the Serbian army and I haven’t had anything to eat since . . .’ She tried to remember when she had last eaten and found that she could not. ‘We need your help. You must give us some food.’ The floor seemed to be rocking under her feet. She groped around her for support, found nothing and lost consciousness.
She came round to a pungent smell and the sensation of being supported on someone’s arm. The major’s companion was kneeling by her and holding a phial of smelling salts under her nose, murmuring in Greek, ‘Oh, the poor child! Poor little thing.’ Then, in English: ‘Don’t worry, my dear, you are quite safe now.’
‘Here, give her this.’ A glass of red wine was held to Leo’s lips. She sipped, choked, and sat up, struggling against the urge to sink back into oblivion.
‘Please, Major Frobisher, we need your help. We arrived last night and we were sent to a camp, but there is no food. Nothing! Men are dying, Major, dying by the dozens. You must send food, at once.’
‘We?’ he queried. ‘Who are you talking about?’
‘I came with a shipload of men from the Serbian army. Other ships have come, too. So many died in the mountains and the rest are starving. Why is there no food for them?’
She staggered to her feet and the major’s lady friend caught her by the arm. ‘Sergeant, a chair, quickly!’
Leo sat and Frobisher seated himself at the table again. ‘I’m sorry, but I can’t answer that question. The French are officially in charge here. I know a supply ship docked yesterday and I assumed that the food was being transported to the camps, but that is not part of my remit.’
‘Then take me to whoever is responsible,’ Leo begged. ‘Where is the French commander’s office?’
‘No, no, my dear,’ the lady protested. ‘You cannot go anywhere in your present state. The major will go and talk to his opposite number and sort everything out, won’t you, Major? You must stay here and have something to eat. Then you can have a bath and we will find you some more suitable clothes.’
Leo shook her head. ‘No, I can’t eat until I know my friends have food, too. Please, Major Frobisher, can we go at once?’
‘Not until you have eaten!’ the lady said. ‘What good can you be to your friends if you are going to faint again? Dimitri, a plate for the young lady.’
‘Give her some of that chicken,’ Frobisher ordered.
‘No! If she has not eaten for several days her stomach will not be able to digest it. Some soup, Dimitri. That will be best.’
Leo saw the sense of what she said and allowed herself to be moved to a place at the table. A bowl of soup was set in front of her and she had difficulty in restraining herself from falling on it like an animal. But before she had swallowed half her stomach rebelled.
‘I’m sorry, I can’t eat any more,’ she said. ‘Can we go now?’
‘Very well. But you must promise to come back and let us look after you.’
‘I . . . I will come as soon as I can,’ Leo agreed evasively, getting to her feet.
While she was eating the major had called for his car and they were soon winding through the narrow streets of the town to the headquarters of the French mission. The man at the desk in the foyer informed them that M. le Colonel was not in his office.
‘Mais, c’est le midi, n’est pas?’
Bypassing Frobisher’s inadequate French Leo, emboldened by the red wine, told him that midday or not the colonel must be summoned, if he did not wish to be responsible for the deaths of hundreds of men. The colonel, arriving rumpled and flush-faced from his interrupted siesta, gazed at her in horror as Frobisher introduced her, and then spread his hands as the problem was explained.
‘But, my dear madame, it is all in hand. You must understand it is a question of priorities. There is a limited amount of transport available and many demands to be met. But the food will be delivered, in due course. C’est la guerre, n’est pas?’
‘Yes, we are at war – and these people are supposed to be your allies!’ Leo exclaimed passionately. ‘Is this the way France behaves towards those who are prepared to lay down their lives in her cause? If more men die in that camp it will be your responsibility and you will not be forgiven.’
Suddenly she found herself in tears, tears that grew from fury and a sense of helplessness. At once, she was led to a chair, a clean handkerchief was pressed into her hand, and the colonel was saying that of course something must be done at once and he would summon the officer in charge of organizing transport. Weakened as she was, it crossed her mind as she mopped her face to reflect on the irony of her position. She had always despised what she regarded as ‘women’s wiles’: fainting and bursting into tears. Now she saw that they had their uses.
Twenty minutes later Leo, Frobisher and the French transport officer arrived at the docks to find a scene of chaos. Crates of supplies were stacked on the quayside, while a Royal Navy petty officer and a French sergeant were shouting at each other in their respective languages and the Greek stevedores sat in the shelter of a doorway, eating pistachio nuts and playing backgammon. It was clear that none of the three elements in the equation was able to understand the other and all were equally taken aback when a filthy urchin appeared in their midst, demanding first in English, then French and finally in Greek, to know what the problem was. It took only minutes for Leo’s identity to be explained and for her to elucidate that the cause of the hold-up was a bureaucratic muddle over paperwork.
As the sun set, Leo arrived back at the camp in the passenger seat of a lorry loaded with food. She jumped down triumphantly and was met by a furious Sasha.
‘Where have you been? How dare you go off without asking my permission? Have you any idea how much anxiety you have caused me?’
She looked at him and felt tears rising again in her throat. She forced them back and said faintly, ‘But look. I have brought you food.’
Already the lorry was surrounded by hungry men, their eyes huge with hope in their skeletal faces. Sasha swung away from her and began issuing orders. What might have turned into a chaotic scramble became instead a disciplined process by which the crates were unloaded and their contents distributed amongst the various different units. While this was happening, Frobisher looked around him and turned to Leo.
‘I had no idea . . . I’m sorry. When we heard that the Serbian army was being evacuated we assumed . . . well, that it would have the usual support systems, supplies, cooking facilities, medical care and so forth. What happened?’
Leo shook her head. ‘You can have no idea what it was like. There are no roads through those mountains. The track is too narrow for wagons and the bridges too weak. The animals died from lack of forage. We had to abandon everything – guns, ammunition, cooking pots . . . Men died from cold and starvation, and they will go on dying unless you help u
s.’
‘I will do all I can, I promise,’ he said. ‘But I don’t understand how you came to be with them.’
‘It would take too long to explain,’ Leo said. ‘I will tell you one day, when there is not so much to do.’
Sasha came back and she introduced him to Frobisher, who saluted and said, ‘I must apologize, Colonel. I was not aware how bad your situation was until this young lady arrived in my dining room.’ He glanced from her to Sasha and added: ‘I must congratulate you. I don’t know how Miss Malham Brown came to be in your company, but if she had not been around to ginger us all up you might have waited days for your supplies. Now, I must get back to town, but I’ll come along again tomorrow. Is there anything you particularly need?’
‘Firewood!’ Sasha said at once. ‘We are desperate for some means to warm ourselves.’
‘I will see to it,’ Frobisher promised. He saluted again. ‘Good night, sir. Goodnight, ma’am. Till tomorrow.’
They watched him get back into the lorry and neither of them spoke until it had turned around and left the camp. Then Leo held out her hands to Sasha.
‘I’m sorry you were worried. You were exhausted and I knew I had to do something, but I was afraid that if I told you what I intended you would forbid it.’
He took her hands in his and held them tightly. ‘My lioness! What would I have done without you? You have saved us all.’
‘You saved me,’ she replied. ‘Without you I should have died on the mountain.’
They gazed at each other in silence and she saw how worn and thin his face was, but his eyes burned into hers. She felt his desire and it drew her like a magnet. She longed to lean to him and press her lips to his, but at the same time she was aware that they stood in the open field, in full view of his men and she knew that he recognized it, too. She squeezed his fingers and stepped back.
‘Have all the men been fed?’
‘Yes, all who are capable of eating. Misha died today, while you were gone and I fear two more will not make it through the night.’
‘Is there anything I can do?’
‘No. They are being cared for. You have done enough. Have you eaten?’
‘Yes, earlier. The major insisted. How about you?’
‘Janachko has put something in my tent. Come and join me. I told him to leave enough for you, too.’
There was less food than either of them would have liked but the immediate hunger pangs were assuaged. As soon as she had finished Leo was overcome with a feeling of intense exhaustion. She wrapped herself in her cloak and, without a second thought, stretched herself on the ground beside him and fell asleep.
Leo woke to the smell of wood smoke and coffee. Crawling out of the tent she saw that every company now had its campfire and the men were busy brewing up the last remnants of their precious coffee. Sasha was sitting nearby on an upturned crate and as soon as he saw her he filled a tin mug from the jug at his side and held it out to her.
‘There is even sugar, thanks to your friends in Durazzo.’
‘When did this happen?’ Leo asked, indicating the fires.
‘Soon after dawn this morning. You slept though it all, but I presume it was arranged by your Major Frobisher.’
‘Good for him!’ Leo said, sipping the hot drink.
‘Yes.’ Sasha gazed into his cup for a moment in silence and Leo saw that he was brooding over something.
‘What is it?’
‘Ten more men died during the night – including two of mine. The food came too late for them. And there are others who are terribly weak and will go the same way.’
‘We must talk to the major about getting proper medical care,’ Leo said.
Frobisher himself appeared soon afterwards and Leo tackled him at once.
‘It is in hand,’ he responded. ‘We are setting up a hospital on the island of Vido, out there in the bay.’
‘Why on an island?’ Sasha queried sharply. ‘Why not somewhere closer – easier to get to?’
‘The Greek authorities are concerned about the possible spread of infection.’
‘We are dying of starvation and exposure, not some kind of plague!’ Sasha exclaimed angrily.
‘I can understand the authorities’ point of view,’ Leo put in reasonably. ‘There is typhus and dysentery in the army. I know that from experience. It is sensible for them to take precautions.’
‘I assure you they will have the best possible care,’ Frobisher added. ‘Some of your own medical teams are already there. Tell me how many men you have here in need of urgent care and I will see that transport is sent for them.’
‘There are others here, then?’ Sasha asked eagerly. ‘Other Serbs?’
‘Oh, yes. Soldiers and civilian refugees. There are camps all round the city. We estimate around one hundred and fifty thousand all together.’
‘One hundred and fifty thousand?’ Sasha repeated. ‘There should be twice that number.’
Frobisher looked at him sympathetically. ‘I can only express my condolences. It is becoming obvious that what you have all suffered is beyond anything we can imagine. But the fact that you are all here at all bears witness to your heroic determination. I salute you.’
Sasha thanked him and turned away, Leo guessed to hide tears that he was too weak to repress. Frobisher addressed her.
‘Miss Malham Brown, I have two messages for you. The first is this. We are setting up a committee to coordinate the relief effort. But as you have already seen, there is a difficulty of communication. There are French, Greeks, and Italians involved, apart from ourselves and the Serbs. You obviously speak most of the languages required. Will you join the committee and act as our interpreter?’
Leo glanced at Sasha, who had recovered himself and nodded. ‘Yes,’ she said, ‘of course. I shall be glad to help in any way I can. And the second message?’
‘That is from Melinda – Madame Papadakis – whom you met yesterday. She asks me to remind you of your promise. She invites you to her home, where you can bathe and rest and be well fed.’
Leo’s first impulse was to thank him and refuse. To accept seemed like a betrayal of Sasha and his men. But then it occurred to her that if she was to serve on the committee she must make herself reasonably acceptable and she was desperately in need of a bath and clean clothes. She smiled at Frobisher. ‘That is very kind. I shall be very pleased to accept her offer.’
‘I can take you there as soon as I have finished my business here, if you like,’ he said.
Sasha touched her arm. ‘Go. You should go.’
Frobisher was temporarily distracted by a query from one of his men, which gave Leo the chance to say, ‘I shall come back later today; this evening if not before.’
Sasha frowned. ‘No, you should stay with this lady who is offering you a home.’
‘I can get a bath and a change of clothes,’ Leo said, ‘but then I will come back here.’
He shook his head. ‘Do you not see? It is not fitting for you to sleep in my tent now. On the mountains it was different, but here there is no excuse. God knows, I should prefer to have you with me, but the fact is I am a married man and you are an unmarried woman. My men love you for what you have done for them, but they all have very strict ideas about morality. Already there is gossip. It is bad for morale.’
Leo felt herself flush. It had not crossed her mind that her relationship with Sasha could be interpreted as anything other than innocent, but now she saw how it must look to outsiders. ‘I’m so sorry,’ she stammered. ‘I didn’t think. Of course, if that is what you think is best . . .’
He looked into her eyes. ‘You know what I should wish, if it were only up to me – but we have to think of what the rest of the world will say.’
She nodded and swallowed. Frobisher returned to say, ‘If you will show me which men need to be evacuated to the hospital . . .’
An hour later, Leo found herself being ushered into the house of Melinda Papadakis, where she was received, quite literally
, with open arms.
Eighteen
‘I’m afraid it’s me again.’ Victoria stood at the end of the bed in the Calais Casino, which had been turned into a hospital for the duration.
Ralph opened his eyes. ‘Victoria? It really was you, then? At the station?’
‘Oh, yes. It was me all right.’
He frowned. ‘I’m afraid I was abominably rude.’
‘Well, you didn’t seem all that pleased to see me.’
‘I’m sorry. It was unforgivable. I should have been thanking you.’
‘I don’t expect thanks. I’m just doing my job.’ She sat down on the chair by the bed. ‘How are you feeling?’
‘A lot better than I did when I arrived here. The medics seem to have patched me up pretty well.’
‘Was it . . . ? I never had a chance to find out how badly you were wounded.’
‘Could have been worse; a sniper’s bullet. Got me between the ribs and the pelvis but missed anything vital. I was lucky.’
‘Yes, you were. I’m glad it’s not too serious.’
‘Me, too. The doc says I should be able to get back to active service after a few weeks convalescence.’
‘Most of the patients I deal with are just happy to have got a ‘blighty’; a wound that will get them back to England and away from the trenches.’
‘I know. But I’m a regular officer. I’ve got responsibilities.’
They were both silent for a moment. Victoria was remembering how much she had disliked Ralph before the war, with his confident swagger and his assumption of masculine superiority. She guessed that he was thinking along the same lines. They both spoke at once.
‘I really wanted to ask you . . .’
‘Have you by any chance heard from Leo?’
‘That’s what I was going to ask you.’
Ralph shook his head fretfully. ‘Not a word since last October, and then it was weeks out of date.’
