Daughters of War (7 page)

‘Probably not,’ Leo said, ‘but I speak Turkish.’ She turned to the man, who was lurking by the door rubbing his hands nervously. Brooms? Yes, he had brooms but no one to use them. All his staff had fled in the fighting. ‘Just give them to us,’ Leo said. ‘We will use them ourselves.’

‘Golly!’ Victoria exclaimed. ‘I’m terribly impressed by your command of languages. I can get by in French but the only one I’m reasonably fluent in is German.’

‘Well, that will probably be the most useful one to have when we get to Bulgaria,’ Leo said. ‘I suppose we shall have to try to learn Bulgarian but until then I expect we’ll get by somehow.’

For an hour they swept and scrubbed and by the time they had finished the rooms were, if not spotless, tolerably clean, and the worst of the draughts had been stopped up with rags. It was only then that their thoughts turned towards food. Here their host was no help at all. He had no kitchen staff and barely enough food to feed himself and his family. Most of the restaurants had closed down during the fighting and those that had not had been commandeered by the soldiers. Most shops were shut and there was a shortage of supplies. ‘They are like locusts, these soldiers,’ he protested. ‘They eat everything.’

Victoria turned to Leo. ‘Now what? I’m famished.’

‘Well, we shall just have to go and forage, I suppose.’ Leo’s spirits sank. She was exhausted and filthy and her clothes, which were sticking to her after her exertions, were becoming clammy now that she had stopped. She was beginning to shiver and to long for a hot bath, a good meal and a soft bed – none of which were likely to be forthcoming in the foreseeable future. ‘Come on. I don’t know what we will find, but we’ll do our best.’

As they crossed the courtyard where the car was parked Victoria said, ‘Just a minute,’ and lifted the bonnet.

‘What are you doing?’ Leo asked.

‘Removing the rotor arm,’ her friend replied. ‘I saw a few men giving Sparky some greedy looks. I don’t want to come back and find him gone.’

‘Are you sure it was the car they were looking at?’ Leo asked, and then regretted the words.

It was getting dark and the narrow streets of the old town were badly lit. Leo began to wonder if they would ever find their way back to the inn. The shops were either boarded up or their windows had been shattered and the contents looted. She slipped her hand into the pocket of her uniform skirt and her fingers closed round the butt of a small revolver. It had been a gift from her father, a few months before he had sent her back to England. There had been an encounter with some local brigands and for a moment it had seemed that Leo might be abducted. On that occasion their own guides, who acted as bodyguards, had seen the aggressors off, but her father had made her take the pistol in case of future trouble and taught her how to use it. She realized now that it had been that incident that had decided him to send her away, and she had never used the weapon, but it was a comfort now to feel its weight in her pocket. She had never shown it to Victoria, unsure how she would react, and she hoped that it would never be necessary to produce it.

Light spilled onto the street ahead of them and they heard a clamour of voices. Both were coming from a restaurant whose windows were clouded with condensation. Peering in, they saw that every table was crowded with men in uniform.

‘It’s no good. The place is packed,’ Victoria said.

‘It’s worth a try, though,’ Leo insisted. ‘It may be the only chance we get.’

She pushed open the door and stepped inside, to be greeted with a roar of catcalls and whistles. A waiter hurried over.

‘Go, go! No women in here!’ he exclaimed.

‘We just want something to eat,’ Leo pleaded. ‘We’re—’

‘No. You go – now! Before there is trouble.’ He almost pushed them towards the door.

Victoria plucked at Leo’s sleeve. ‘Come on! This is no good.’

Out in the street, they plodded onwards and very soon Leo became aware of footsteps behind them. Looking round, she saw three soldiers had left the restaurant and were following them.

‘Let’s hurry on a bit,’ she said. ‘I don’t like these dark streets.’

They walked faster but the men behind them drew closer and began to call out to them. The words were in a language Leo did not understand but she had recognized the uniforms as Bulgarian. From the voices it was obvious that they were drunk. Victoria grabbed her hand and they began to run, and the men gave chase, laughing gleefully. They raced round a corner and found themselves in a small square at the junction of three roads. There, Leo came to a stop, dragging Victoria to a standstill, and turned to face their pursuers.

‘Well?’ she demanded, in Greek. ‘What do you want? Are you men, to behave like this, or animals?’

The three faced them, panting, exchanging looks and she knew instinctively that they were daring each other to be the first to attack. She closed her hand round the butt of the revolver. There was a sudden clatter of boots from one of the side streets and four Greek soldiers appeared. Leo turned to them and shouted, ‘Help us, please! These men are harassing us.’

She had gambled on the hostility she had sensed between the two occupying armies and it paid off. The newcomers exchanged looks and then plunged forwards and within seconds the little square was a melee of flying fists. Leo grabbed Victoria’s hand. ‘Now, run for it!’

They ran until they reached the wider and better lit streets in the city centre, but here, too, all the restaurants were packed with soldiers and they did not dare repeat their experience with the first one. Finally, they found themselves standing in front of the Makedonia Palace Hotel, the grandest in the city.

‘Let’s try in here,’ Victoria suggested.

In the foyer they were met by a flustered porter. ‘No, no!’ he cried in Greek. ‘You cannot come in here. Do you not see the notice?’ He pointed to a placard set prominently in the middle of the entrance.

‘What is he saying?’ Victoria asked.

‘The notice says “Reserved for Officers Only”.’

‘Tell him we are officers. We are both ensigns in the FANY.’

‘I don’t think that will cut much ice,’ Leo said, but she tried it anyway. The man only waved his hands in confusion. ‘No, no! No ladies! Only officers.’

Beyond him they could see the glass doors of the dining room and through them tables at which uniformed officers were tucking in. The smell of food made Leo feel suddenly faint.

‘Oh, I’ve had enough of this!’ she exclaimed. ‘Out of my way!’

She thrust the man aside and marched into the dining room with Victoria close behind her. She was aware of heads turning in their direction and then a complete hush as conversation died away and the clatter of knives and forks was silenced. In the hiatus, Leo suddenly realized what they must look like with their hair coming down and faces smeared with dirt. More like a pair of vagabonds than respectable ladies! No wonder the waiter had tried to turn them away.

For a moment nobody moved, and then a man in the uniform of a Serbian colonel rose from a table near the door and came towards them. He was tall and had the bearing of one used to command. Unlike most of his fellow officers, he was clean shaven, with high cheek bones and brooding dark eyes under arched brows.

He stopped and clicked his heels and said in German, ‘Excuse me. I can see you are not native to this area. I’m sure you will not speak Serbian. I hope you understand German.’ When they both answered in the affirmative he went on, ‘Allow me to introduce myself. I am Count Aleksander Malkovic. May I ask who you are?’

‘I am Leonora Malham Brown and this is my colleague, Miss Victoria Langford. We have just arrived from England.’

‘From England! But, dear ladies, you must be aware that you have come to a war zone. Until a few weeks ago this city was under bombardment and the Turks were still in occupation.’

‘We are perfectly aware of the situation,’ Leo responded stiffly. ‘That is why we are here. We have come to join the Women’s Sick and Wounded Convoy. We are on our way to Chataldzha to offer our services.’

‘To Chataldzha!’ His lips curled in an expression that was somewhere between amusement and contempt. ‘Really, that is quite impossible. That is the front line of the Bulgarian advance. The fighting there is at its fiercest.’

‘Which is why that is where we are most needed,’ Leo retorted.

He laughed out loud then. ‘Dear ladies, I admire your courage and we are most grateful for your offer of help, but we cannot allow you to put yourselves at risk. Now, in what other way can I be of service?’

‘The risk is ours, and I think you do not have the authority to stop us,’ Leo said. ‘But there is one way in which you can help. We need food and there seems to be nowhere in the city where we can obtain a meal.’

‘But of course! Please –’ he gestured towards the table he had just left – ‘you must be my guests.’

Two officers courteously gave up their places and Leo and Victoria were soon tucking in to spicy meatballs in a rich tomato sauce. As they ate, the colonel made small talk, asking them about their journey and their accommodation.

‘And what is this ladies’ convoy of which you speak?’ he asked at length.

Between them, they explained about the FANY and its offshoot and the aims which both organizations shared. He listened with an expression of sceptical amusement which Leo found infuriating.

‘So, why are you not travelling with the other ladies?’ he asked.

‘Because we did not know that they were leaving until it was too late,’ Leo explained. ‘We think they probably travelled by train to Sophia. Have you heard anything about them? We are sure they will be heading for the front line but we don’t know exactly where to find them.’

‘So you two ladies have set off entirely alone, without any clear idea of where you are going?’ Leo could not decide whether the expression in his eyes was admiration or disapproval.

‘We do know where we want to go,’ she said firmly. ‘Once we get near the front people are bound to know where the rest of the convoy is.’

He looked at her, with that inscrutable gaze. ‘I have to admire your determination, even though I think your enterprise is foolhardy.’

‘Then you will help us to get to Chataldzha?’

The courteous mask faded and his eyes hardened. ‘I am sorry. I have explained to you that the whole idea of women anywhere near the front line is unacceptable. You have no conception of modern warfare. You imagine a romantic charge, a brief, violent conflict and then the combatants leave the field empty except for the dead and wounded. In such a battle you might have played a part, but not now. War is no longer like that. It is about guns and shells and bombs and grenades. There is no peaceful interval during which we can collect our wounded and bury our dead. Your presence would merely be a distraction to the troops, who would feel they had to protect you instead of concentrating on defeating the enemy.’ He paused, as if to regain control of himself. ‘Now, if you will excuse me, I shall leave you. But please feel free to use the facilities of the hotel. Coffee will be served in the lounge and I am sure some of the other officers will be happy to entertain you.’

He rose and went out through the doors into the foyer. ‘Wretched man!’ Victoria exclaimed bitterly. ‘What arrogance!’

Leo nodded. It was true that his whole demeanour had suggested a man who was unused to having his orders questioned, and yet . . . and yet . . . ‘I think he means well,’ she said. ‘He believes what he said.’

While they were eating some of the officers had retired to the lounge to smoke and drink the local brandy. Leo was aware of many curious looks directed towards them from the communicating doors and when they had finished their meal one of the men came through to invite them to join him and his colleagues.

They were a mixed party of Greeks and Serbs, who were clearly delighted to have some feminine company, though Leo noticed that Malkovic remained aloof, sitting apart with one or two senior officers. Conversation was impeded by the fact that the Greeks did not speak Serbian and the Serbs did not speak Greek, while some of them understood German and others French but few spoke both, so Leo was much in demand as an interpreter. After a while she found herself chatting to a Serbian major, who introduced himself as Milan Dragitch.

‘Tell me, why is it that there are only Serbs and Greeks here? I have seen Bulgarian uniforms in the streets. Where are their officers?’

‘In a different hotel,’ he said with a grin, ‘to prevent fights breaking out.’

‘Why? I thought you were all allies.’

‘So we are, in theory. But the Bulgars cannot forgive the fact that the Greeks took the city one day before they got here. They wanted to occupy Salonika, you see, to strengthen their claim over the whole of Macedonia. The Greeks had to let some of them in as “guests”, including Prince Kyril and Crown Prince Boris, but it’s an uneasy situation.’

‘So I see,’ Leo said.

‘Is it true that you and the other lady were planning to go to the front line to nurse the wounded?’

‘Not to nurse, exactly. Our function is to collect the wounded, give them essential first aid, and then transport them back to the casualty clearing stations.’

‘But that would mean going out under fire!’

‘Yes, we understand that.’

‘You are very brave. But the colonel will not let you go, you know.’

‘I don’t understand why not.’

‘Sasha Malkovic is notorious for his attitude to women. He believes a woman’s place is at home. He will not tolerate them anywhere near the troops. To him they are all camp followers – by which he means women of easy virtue.’ He stopped and blushed. ‘Forgive me, I don’t mean to suggest that that could be applied to you and your friend.’

Leo smiled. ‘Don’t worry. I’m not easily shocked. And whatever your Colonel Malkovic says, we are still determined to get to Chataldzha.’

He frowned. ‘I can’t say you aren’t needed. I’ve seen enough during the recent weeks to know that we don’t have good enough systems in place for dealing with casualties. But whether it’s suitable work for women . . . ?’