Daughters of War (23 page)

Malkovic looked round and said, ‘Ah, here is the young man who will translate for us. Leo, we are about to meet with some Turkish officers for an important discussion. I need you to translate but what you hear must remain absolutely confidential.’

‘Of course,’ Leo responded.

Malkovic pulled a watch from his pocket and looked at it. ‘It’s time. Let us go.’

Leo followed him and the other two through the lines of trenches until they came to the no-man’s-land between the foremost Bulgarian trench and the first Turkish one. The halfway point was marked by a line of tattered white flags, grubby against a new fall of snow. There was no sign of the Turks and the four of them stood around, stamping their feet and blowing on their hands.

Malkovic said, ‘Patience, gentlemen. It is a point of honour with the Turks to keep us waiting. Our best response is to behave as if time was of no importance.’

Leo was wearing only her tweed jacket and breeches. She had a fur-lined cape in her tent, but as she had only intended to walk from her tent to the hospital she had not put it on. Now she soon began to shiver, although she did her best to conceal the fact. Malkovic was not deceived.

‘Our lion cub is shaking. Is it cold or fear?’

‘Cold, sir,’ Leo replied through chattering teeth.

‘Don’t you have a coat?’

‘Not with me.’

He swung the cloak off his own shoulders and put it round her. ‘I need you to be able to speak clearly. The Turks will not understand you if your teeth chatter so.’

She huddled into the cloak, feeling the warmth of his body enfolding her. Just then two Turkish officers strolled out to meet them, magnificently accoutred and fiercely moustached. The winter sun glittered on polished sword hilts and reflected from rows of medals and swags of gold braid. Greetings were exchanged in what seemed to Leo a surprisingly cordial manner, in view of the circumstances, and then the business of the conference was broached. The gist of what she translated was a proposal from the Turks that they should surrender the city to the Serbs in return for a safe conduct for them and their men. The Serbs would then hold all the key points in Macedonia, and leave the Bulgarians empty-handed. Malkovic thanked them with formal courtesy for their offer but intimated that he had no intention of betraying his allies. The discussion ended with mutual compliments and Leo followed the three Serbs back to the colonel’s tent.

‘Divide and rule,’ he said when they reached it. ‘That was the objective. They must be getting pretty desperate in there.’

The two officers were dismissed and Malkovic shouted to his orderly to bring warm wine. A brazier smouldered in the middle of the tent and he pointed Leo to a chair beside it. ‘Sit and take some wine. You look as if you need it.’

The orderly appeared with a speed that told Leo he had anticipated the command and Malkovic poured two goblets of the steaming liquid. Leo sipped and felt the warmth spread through her body.

Malkovic said, ‘You told me you were going home.’

‘I realized there was work to be done here.’

‘You are working in the hospital tent?’

‘Yes.’

He frowned. ‘There is typhus there, I’m told.’

‘Yes. There is an epidemic. That is why I stayed.’

‘You should not be risking your life doing such work.’

She looked at him but his expression was inscrutable. ‘I take no more risk than anyone else. Someone has to care for those men.’

‘Not you. You are not involved in our war. I was wrong to tease you about your duty to your heritage the other day. You have done enough – more than enough. You should go home to England.’

‘I will, soon,’ she said and wondered what his reaction would be if he knew that the only reason she stayed was to be near him.

The guard who stood outside the tent put his head in through the flap. ‘Excuse me, sir. There is a messenger here with a letter for you.’

‘Send him in.’

The man who entered was plastered from head to foot with mud, his face pinched with cold. It was obvious that he had ridden from some distance away but Leo could not at first identify his uniform. Then she remembered that it was Greek. He handed the letter to Malkovic and said, in broken Serbian, ‘For you, sir, from General Todorov.’

Malkovic tore open the envelope and then threw the contents down on his table in frustration. ‘What use is this to me? I don’t read Greek!’

The messenger looked nonplussed. Leo said, ‘I can read it.’

Malkovic swung round. ‘You know Greek as well as Turkish?’

‘Yes, sir.’ She had sworn to herself that she would stop using the subservient ‘sir’ but somehow it seemed to come naturally in the role she had assumed.

‘Translate this for me.’ He indicated the chair behind his table and pushed a sheet of paper and a pen and ink horn towards her. ‘Write it down.’ He gestured to the messenger. ‘Tell him to get himself a hot meal.’

Leo worked in silence for some minutes. Translating the Greek was easy, but rephrasing it in Serbian was more of a problem. When she had finished, she handed the paper to Malkovic. It contained a plea from the Greek general for him to abandon his position with the Bulgarians and join up with his forces in Salonika in expectation of a future conflict with their former allies.

Leo said, ‘It seems everyone wants you to turn traitor.’

He gave her one of his sudden, ironic grins. ‘Now the main battle is over the wolves are fighting over the corpse. Will you write a reply for me?’

‘Of course.’

He dictated an answer which informed the general that he felt it was important for the moment to remain where he was, so that Serbia had a stake in the conquest of Adrianople, which would be a valuable bargaining counter in any future settlement. But if the time came when they had to resort to arms the general could count on his support. Leo transcribed his words into Greek and he signed the letter. It struck her that he had no way of knowing that she had translated him faithfully, and was gladdened by this evidence of trust. She addressed the envelope, and when she looked up she found he was leaning against the central pole of the tent with his arms folded and his eyes fixed on her.

Her heartbeat quickened. Had he seen through her at last? But instead he said, ‘You told me once that you wanted to join the Bulgarian army but they turned you down. How would you like to join the Serbian army?’

‘What?’ Leo said, aghast.

‘I need a secretary who can speak and write Greek and Turkish. I could give you the rank of Cadet Ensign. What do you say?’

Leo stared at him, dry-mouthed. For a brief moment the tantalizing possibility of working with him every day flashed before her imagination. Then common sense reasserted itself. How could she sustain the deception she had practised if she was with him every day? Under what conditions would she be expected to live? Would she, for example, be expected to share a tent with some of the junior officers? And there was her duty to Sophie and the others in the hospital tent. She was needed there far more than here. And yet, she could not quite relinquish the dream.

‘I’m very honoured, sir. I should like to work for you, very much. But . . . but I do not think it would be . . . appropriate for me to become a soldier in your army. As I said, I must go home soon and if I was to accept your offer I should not be free to leave. The fighting is over, more or less. At least the battle that I wanted to take part in, to expel the Turks, is over. But if I can be of service to you while I am here you have only to send for me. You know where to find me.’

He frowned at her and she knew that he was not used to being refused, but after a moment his face cleared. ‘You are probably right. I will send next time I require your help. Now, you had better get back to your other duties.’

Leo rose, regretfully. For a short while she had felt closer to him than ever before. Now, she knew, the relationship had cooled, just as the wind that met her as she left the tent cooled her body. But what else could she have done? She walked back towards her own tent beset by moods that varied wildly between euphoria and despair – euphoria because she sensed that Malkovic wanted her company and thought he had found a way to keep her near him; despair because nothing could ever come of it. If he was attracted to her, it must be for the wrong reasons and once he knew the truth their relationship would be at an end.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a sound at once familiar and unexpected – the whistle of a locomotive. Looking across the snow-covered plain to the west, she saw the puffs of steam from an approaching train. She quickened her step. In the hospital tent there was a new sense of purpose and optimism.

‘The train will take many of our patients back to Salonika, to the hospitals there,’ Sophie said. ‘Things will be easier from now on.’

During the rest of the day, wagon trains plodded backwards and forwards, unloading the provisions and ammunition for the besiegers. Leo wondered how much the starving people inside the city could see of what was going on, and pitied the anguish the sight must provoke for them. Next morning, she and all the rest of the staff were busy from daybreak, preparing their patients for the journey, and soon the ox-carts were on their way again, carrying the wounded men down to the train. Leo went with them, trying to ensure that each man was made as comfortable as possible. It took until midday to transfer all the casualties and Leo was just plodding wearily back towards the hospital tent when she saw a car coming fast along the road from Gallipoli. Victoria and Luke hoping to catch the train with an urgent case, she guessed.

The car stopped by the train, as she expected, but then after a short wait it pulled away again and came racing towards the camp. Victoria jumped out and ran up the slope towards their tent.

‘Leo! Are you ready? For goodness sake, tidy yourself up a bit. We haven’t got much time.’

She hurried into the tent. Leo followed, and found her throwing her belongings into a bag.

‘What are you doing?’ Leo asked, aghast.

‘What do you think? We’re catching that train. Grab your things.’

‘You can’t! You can’t just leave like that.’

‘Can’t I? You watch me!’ She turned briefly to look at Leo. ‘Think about it! How long have we waited for this train? God knows how long it might be before the next one. Don’t be a fool, Leo! Get your things together. I’ve arranged for them to take us and Sparky.’

‘But . . .’ Leo struggled for words. ‘What about Luke? You can’t leave him behind. Where is he?’

Victoria jerked her chin over her shoulder. ‘Back there, at Gallipoli.’

‘Why? Why have you come without him?’

Her friend did not reply immediately. Then she said, ‘The idiot proposed to me. He wants me to marry him and go back to New Zealand with him.’

‘But Vita, that’s wonderful, isn’t it? I mean, it’s obvious he’s in love with you, and I thought you were with him.’

Victoria turned towards her. ‘Can you see me, living on a farm in some godforsaken backwater at the far end of the earth? Anyway, I told you, I never intend to marry.’

‘But did Luke know that?’ Victoria shrugged and returned to her packing. Leo persisted angrily. ‘I told you, I tried to tell you, that this is what he would expect. He’s a good man, Vita, and you have led him on and broken his heart.’

‘It was an affair, that’s all,’ Victoria said. ‘He should have realized that.’

‘Have you . . . have you slept with him?’

‘It’s none of your business. It’s up to me to choose whether I sleep with someone or not.’

‘How could you be so heartless?’

The train whistle sounded and Victoria picked up her bag. ‘Are you coming? The train won’t wait.’

‘No,’ Leo said, ‘I’m not.’

‘You can’t stay here, all alone.’

‘I won’t be alone. There’s Sophie, and Iannis. And Luke when he gets back. I won’t run off and leave him, even if you do.’

‘Suit yourself.’ Victoria moved to the entrance. In the opening of the tent she turned and her expression changed. ‘I can’t do it any more, Leo. I can’t face the dirt and the squalor and the suffering, and I’m frightened of getting ill myself. I don’t want to die out here! I’m sorry. I can’t stay any longer.’

She turned and ran down the slope to the car. Leo stood still, straining her eyes towards the train, and saw the car loaded onto one of the flatbed wagons that were used to transport field guns. She glimpsed Victoria getting into one of the carriages, but she did not look back. The whistle blew again, there was a clank of couplings and a volley of escaping steam from the engine and the train began its slow journey towards Salonika. Leo watched with a growing sense of panic. She should have gone with Victoria. What was she thinking of? By now she could have been on her way home; back to all the things her friend had listed – hot baths and comfortable beds and good food. Back, also, to her old life and any restrictions her grandmother chose to put on her liberty; back to Ralph’s mockery and the pressure to marry Tom. And away from any chance of seeing Sasha Malkovic again. She took a deep breath and walked back to the hospital tent.

Sophie saw her and ran over. ‘Leo, what are you doing here? I thought you had gone on the train.’

‘Gone?’ Leo said. ‘Why? What made you think that?’

‘I just assumed . . . I saw the car being loaded. Has Victoria gone?’

‘Yes.’

‘And left you behind?’

‘It was my choice. I could have gone with her.’

Sophie looked around the tent and for the first time Leo realized that it was virtually empty. Sophie said, ‘Oh dear! You know, you should have gone. You can see there are hardly any patients left. There will be more, of course, but we can manage. I should have said this yesterday . . .’

In the distance the train whistle sounded once more and Leo forced a smile. ‘It’s all right. It doesn’t matter. There will be another train.’