‘You sound like that harridan Victoria.’
‘She’s not a harridan!’
‘Well, however that may be, the fact is you can’t go on behaving like this for the rest of your life. Isn’t it time you thought about getting married?’
Leo sighed. ‘Here we go again! Ralph, I don’t want to marry Tom. I don’t want to marry anyone.’
‘But why not? What’s wrong with Tom?’
‘There’s nothing wrong with him. He’s kind and . . . and inoffensive and
dull.
He never seems to do anything. He just . . . hangs around in your shadow.’
Ralph’s grip tightened on her wrist. ‘Leo, you don’t know him. Tom Devenish is the bravest, most loyal friend a man could have. He took a flogging for me once, at Harrow.’
‘A flogging!’ Leo exclaimed. ‘How? Why?’
Ralph sat back. ‘It was all my stupid fault. I’m not proud of myself. You know what I was like at school. I never cared much for lessons and I got up to all sorts of silly japes. At the beginning of my last term the head sent for me and told me that if I came up in front of him one more time I’d be out on my ear. I promised to behave myself but then someone challenged me to a dare, and I could never resist a dare.’
‘Dare to do what?’
‘Oh, it was just a silly prank. Our housemaster’s wife had a little dog – a nasty yappy little white thing that bit anyone who tried to make friends with it. I got hold of some dye and dyed it red. It didn’t do the dog any harm but she was furious. Mr Washington got us all in the hall and said that unless the culprit owned up he was going to punish the whole house. Of course, I knew my number was up and I was just about to get to my feet when Tom stood up and said it was him. Well, of course Washy knew it wasn’t. Tom was never in trouble. But he couldn’t very well call him a liar. So he asked if anyone else had been involved and Tom said, No, he’d done it all on his own.’ Ralph dropped his head and put his hand over his eyes. ‘And I sat there and said nothing, sis. Not a word. He thrashed Tom, right there, in front of everyone. And do you know what Tom said, when I tried to thank him afterwards? He said that he’d get over the flogging soon enough, but if I’d been expelled it might have ruined my whole life, and he couldn’t let that happen.’ He looked up. ‘That’s the sort of chap he is, Leo. That’s the sort of man you’re turning down.’
Leonora looked at him in silence for a moment. Then she said, ‘It was a brave thing to do, and the action of a good friend, as you say. But he did it for you, Ralph. That doesn’t make him a good husband for me.’
Her brother got up impatiently. ‘I don’t understand you! What difference does it make? Tom is a good chap and you should be grateful he’s so patient. He won’t hang around for ever, you know, waiting for you to come to your senses.’
‘It’s not a question of me coming to my senses,’ Leo snapped back. ‘Tom’s your friend and you’re in his debt. That doesn’t mean I have to marry him. Do you know what Victoria says? She says he only wants to marry me because he can’t marry you.’
She regretted the words as soon as they were spoken. She saw the colour drain from Ralph’s face and for a moment she thought he was going to strike her. Then he flushed deep crimson.
‘That’s a foul thing to say! That’s the foulest thing anyone has ever said to me.’
He turned and left the room without another word.
No further objections were raised to the idea of the camp, so Leonora and Victoria set off in Sparky the following weekend. Leo quickly had to recognize the force of what Ralph had said at dinner that night. It rained, and the ground was soon churned to mud. In addition to making her own bed and caring for her horse, she found herself lugging buckets of water from the river and collecting bundles of firewood and peeling huge mounds of potatoes. She got used to waking to reveille at 5.30 in the morning and living on porridge that tasted of wood smoke and meat that was singed on the outside and red in the middle. She had never worked so hard in her life – and she loved every minute of it.
Three
Returning to Sussex Gardens felt like being forced back into a straitjacket. To make matters worse, she found that her grandmother had enrolled her in her absence at a finishing school, which she was expected to attend every morning in order to improve her ‘deportment’ and polish her social skills. When she protested that this clashed with her riding lessons at the cavalry barracks her grandmother threatened to stop her allowance if she refused to attend. As if this was not bad enough, Ralph had refused to speak to her since their conversation about Tom. He visited very rarely and when he did the atmosphere between them was bitter. Leo would have apologized, given the opportunity, but he made sure they were never alone together.
She had been back from camp less than a week when she opened
The Times
to read that the Bulgarians and the Serbs, in alliance with Greece, had declared war on Turkey. By early November the Bulgarian army had reached Chataldhza, the last line of Turkish defences between them and Constantinople, and the Greeks had captured the port of Salonika.
Three days after this news arrived Victoria burst into Leonora’s room when she had only just finished dressing.
‘Have you seen this?’ She waved a copy of
The Times
under Leo’s nose.
‘Seen what? You’re very early. I haven’t had breakfast yet.’
‘This!’ Victoria folded the paper back and held it for Leonora to see. She read: ‘GALLANT YOUNG LADIES HEAD FOR WAR ZONE. The ladies of the Women’s Sick and Wounded Convoy, under the direction of Mrs Mabel St Clair Stobart, set off yesterday for Bulgaria, where they intend to offer their services as nurses to the allied forces.’
Leo put the paper aside and stared at Victoria. ‘They are actually going! Going to a real war, to do all those things that we are only playing at.’
Victoria nodded grimly. ‘Makes you think we joined the wrong outfit, doesn’t it?’
‘Couldn’t we go, too – we FANYs, I mean?’
‘No chance. I heard someone raise the idea with Ashley Smith the other day and she turned it down flat. She said our duty was to our own people and we had to save ourselves in case we were needed here.’
‘But think of the experience!’ Leo said. ‘Vita, do you think Mrs Stobart would let us join her?’
‘I’ve no idea. Anyway, it’s too late now. See what it says in the paper? They left yesterday.’
‘How are they getting there, do you think?’
‘By train I suppose. On the Orient Express.’
‘Then couldn’t we follow?’
‘Are you serious?’
A bubble of excitement was growing in Leo’s chest. She felt it almost choking her. ‘If we left tomorrow . . .’
‘I suppose we could catch them up and offer our services. Provided Stobart is willing to take us on.’
‘She could hardly turn us down, could she, after we’d come so far? And we are trained – well, you are, and I’m not exactly a novice any more.’
‘But Leo, would your grandmother let you go?’
Leo’s bubble burst and she felt as if all the air had gone out of her lungs. ‘No, of course she won’t.’ For a moment she was silent. The past weeks had been a desert of boredom and frustration, and the only prospect she could see ahead of her was more of the same. Finally she said, ‘I’d have to slip out without telling anyone. I could leave a note.’
‘Would you really do that?’
‘Yes! I know it’s wicked but I want to do this so badly and if I don’t break out now I’m afraid I never will. Let’s do it, Vita! We may never get another chance.’
Victoria looked at her. ‘I have a feeling I ought to be saying “no, think of the danger”. I ought to be sensible and responsible but . . .’ Leo saw the same excitement catching fire in her friend’s eyes. ‘To hell with it! You’re right. We may never get another chance. But we must plan properly. We can’t just jump on the first train. We don’t even know where they were heading, exactly. The whole of the Balkans is a war zone.’
Leo nodded, forcing herself to be calm. ‘Listen, my father had an old friend who works in the Foreign Office. He specializes in Eastern Europe and my father often went to him for advice when he was planning a trip. He will know the best route, if anyone does.’
‘But if you tell him what we are planning to do . . . ?’ Victoria said.
‘Yes, that’s a point. But he’s not one of those men who think women should sit at home and knit. I’ve met him several times and he always encouraged father to take me with him on our travels. If I were to tell him that the FANYs are thinking of going . . . that we’ve been invited to join the WSWC and I’ve been asked to seek his advice . . .’
‘It would be a lie.’
Leo chewed her lip. ‘Only a small one.’
Victoria shook her head with a laugh. ‘I’ll say this for you. Once you get the bit between your teeth there’s no holding you.’
The two women met again that evening at Victoria’s flat in Knightsbridge.
‘Did you get to see your father’s friend at the FO?’ Victoria asked.
‘Yes. He was very sweet. I felt bad about not telling the whole truth.’
‘What did he advise?’
‘In one word – don’t. But just the way he explained it gave me a pretty good idea what the situation is.’
‘Go on.’
‘Have you got an atlas?’
‘It’s on the table. I’ve been trying to get some idea of where we might be headed.’
Leo seated herself at the table and opened the map. ‘Cutting out a lot of the preliminary warnings about the chaotic situation, what he said was this. He thinks that Stobart’s lot might have made a mistake taking the train to Sophia. The battle front is over here, at Chataldzha, almost on the Black Sea and the Turks have cut the railway line. The only way to get there from Sophia is to go to Jamboli and then travel by road and it would take the best part of a week, because the roads are terrible and the only transport is by wagons pulled by oxen. He said, if he wanted to get there he would go by sea to Salonika and then hope to get a train from there.’
‘By sea? But it would take weeks from any English port.’
‘I know. But if we picked up a ship in Marseilles, that would shorten the journey enormously. I’m sure there are ships going from there to Athens and then we could find another heading for Salonika. We could take the train to Marseilles—’
Victoria’s eyes lit up. ‘I’ve got a better idea. We’ll go in Sparky.’
‘Drive, all that way? Could Sparky do it?’
‘Yes, given time. We couldn’t take him on the Orient Express but there wouldn’t be any problem about getting him on a ship as deck freight. And think how useful it would be to have a car. If we can’t get a train from Salonika we could drive, and he could be used for transporting the wounded when we get to the other end.’
‘How long would it take to drive to Marseilles?’ Leo asked.
‘Four days, three if we’re lucky. Then there’s the sea voyage. It’s still going to take a long time.’
‘But Stobart’s lot have got to make arrangements when they get to Sophia. That will take time, too. And if it really is going to take them a week to get from Jamboli to the front we might not be far behind them.’
‘Better late than never, I suppose. And the war isn’t going to be over quickly, by all accounts. What do you think?’
Leo grinned at her. ‘Let’s do it. Whatever happens, it’ll be an adventure.’
‘When do we start?’
‘The sooner the better. Tomorrow night? I’ll have to creep out when everyone has gone to sleep.’
‘Agreed.’
Next day Leo collected what clothes and other things she felt were essential and transferred them to Victoria’s house, telling her grandmother that she was taking worn-out clothes to a charity. Meanwhile, Victoria purchased as much in the way of bandages, lint, disinfectant and other medical supplies as they could carry with them. They allowed themselves only the minimum of personal belongings, anticipating that they would wear their FANY uniforms most of the time. What they did take was packed into a large trunk and strapped to the back of the car.
Leo had one other errand, which she did not mention to Victoria. Her father had left her a brooch and two rings that had belonged to her mother. She took them to a shop in the Burlington Arcade and got what she hoped was a reasonable price for them. It seemed likely that she would be unable to access her allowance and she was determined not to rely on Victoria for funds.
When they met again that evening they were both in a more sober mood.
‘You know, we haven’t given this enough thought,’ Victoria said. ‘Do we really know what we are letting ourselves in for?’
‘No,’ Leo responded. ‘Perhaps if we did we wouldn’t be doing it.’
‘Do you want to change your mind?’
‘Not unless you do.’ Leo sat down and leaned urgently towards her friend. ‘It isn’t just about us going off on some mad adventure, Vita. It’s about proving something. Proving that we are capable of taking our own decisions, making our own way in life.’
‘You’re right, of course,’ Victoria said. ‘So let’s get going while we’ve still got the courage. If we leave at midnight and drive all night we can be in Dover in time for the first ferry in the morning.’
‘Wait for me at the corner of the road,’ Leo instructed her. ‘Don’t bring Sparky too close or you’ll wake the neighbours.’
A few minutes before twelve Leo opened her bedroom door and stood listening intently. The house was silent. She picked up the small bag containing her last-minute essentials and crept down the stairs. She did not go to the front door, knowing that Beavis would have locked and bolted it before retiring for the night, and taken the key with him. Instead, she passed through the green baize door leading to the servants’ quarters and tiptoed down the stairs to the kitchen. There was a door here that led out into the basement area and she knew that the key would be hanging on a hook beside it. Her heart hammered as she put it into the lock. Maisie, the kitchen maid, slept next door and Leo prayed that she was not easily awakened. The lock turned and the door swung open. Chill, damp air replaced the warmth of the kitchen. The area steps were shrouded in fog. For a moment Leo hesitated, thinking of her warm bed and the unknown hazards ahead. Then she stepped outside, closed and locked the door behind her and pushed the key back underneath it. There was no going back now, short of ringing the front doorbell and begging to be readmitted. She climbed the area steps to the pavement level and turned towards the corner. The fog obscured everything further than fifty yards away, so she could not see if Victoria was waiting for her in Sparky. She turned her collar up to her ears, grateful that the fog muffled the sound of her footsteps and shrouded her from the view of any wakeful watcher in the windows of the houses she passed. For a brief moment she had a premonition that Victoria would not be there, that she had misunderstood the arrangements or simply changed her mind; but when she reached the corner she found Sparky parked at the side of the road, with her friend, muffled to the eyebrows, at the wheel.