Page 34 of A Call to Home (Women of the Resistance #3)

Cairo

March 1944

Leo knocked on the door of Deakin’s office and went in without waiting for an answer.

‘Urgent signal from Bailey. He needs to be exfiltrated as soon as possible.’

‘Does he say why?’

‘He says, “touring area with Manson and Seitz” – those are the two American OSS men – “cut off from base by German anti-guerrilla ops. The situation has become untenable. Nearest pick up point Cavtat”.’

‘Right,’ Deakin said. ‘I’ll contact the ops centre in Bali and see if they can send a ship in to pick them up. Is Hudson with them?’

‘He doesn’t say.’ Leo shook her head with foreboding. ‘I suppose he would have mentioned him if he was. But he must be in the same predicament.’

‘Well, there’s nothing we can do unless we know where he is. Let’s hope he can make it to Cavtat too.’

Later that evening, when Sasha came to join her at the houseboat, he said, ‘I’m afraid we shan’t have many more nights like this.’

The words gave her a sudden jolt of anxiety. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Peter’s taking the court back to London.’

‘Why?’

‘Well, it was inevitable. He’s supposed to be getting married at the end of the month.’

‘Good lord! I’d completely forgotten.’

‘I hadn’t but I was hoping to dissuade him from going ahead with it. It is bound to further damage his reputation with his own people. Marrying in the middle of a war is against all our traditions.’

‘But he won’t be persuaded?’ Leo asked.

‘No. He says everything is arranged and he can’t expect people to change the plans at the last minute. And now that there’s no chance of getting himself dropped into Serbia to join the fighting there’s no point in staying here.’

‘I suppose you can understand his feelings,’ Leo said. ‘After all, he’s a young man and he’s in love. It is a love match, isn’t it?’

‘Oh, no doubt about that, but sacrifices must be made in wartime. I can’t get him to see it like that.’

‘So, when do you leave?’ Leo asked.

‘The day after tomorrow.’

She sighed. ‘I suppose you have to go with him?’

He hugged her. ‘I must, my love. I can’t abandon him at this juncture. I wish I could stay here with you but as I said, sacrifices must be made in wartime.’

Next day Leo found it hard to throw off her feelings of despondency. It had meant so much to have Sasha nearby, even if they couldn’t spend the whole time together. She knew she would be lonely without him.

Deakin noticed her gloomy manner. ‘You look a bit down in the dumps this morning. What’s happened?’

She told him and he asked, ‘How long have you been out here?’

Leo thought back. ‘Over two years.’

‘Have you had any leave in that time?’

‘Leave? No.’

‘Then you are definitely due some. Take three weeks off. Go back to England with Sasha.’

She looked at him, hardly believing her ears. ‘You mean it?’

‘Of course. You deserve a break. When do you want to go?’

‘Is the day after tomorrow too soon?’

‘Not a bit. I’ll make out the necessary dockets for you. I’m sure the RAF will be able to squeeze you onto a flight somehow.’

London. March and April 1944

So it came about that Leo sat beside Sasha in Westminster Abbey to see King Peter of Yugoslavia marry Princess Alexandra of Greece. It was a glittering affair. King George VI himself acted as Peter’s best man and in the congregation there were three other monarchs, all of whom had been displaced from their thrones by the war; King Haakon of Norway, King George of Greece and Queen Wilhelmina of the Netherlands. To the British press it was a fairy tale, but the Yugoslav government in exile shared Sasha’s gloomy view of the pomp and circumstance.

Nevertheless, while the young couple honeymooned Sasha was at liberty to enjoy two uninterrupted weeks with his wife. Next morning Leo looked out of the hotel window. The trees in Hyde Park were coming into bud and beneath them the mounds of earth dug up to create anti-aircraft gun emplacements had a green covering of weeds and grass. But the guns were still there, a permanent reminder of danger. The Blitz seemed to be over but there was no guarantee that Hitler had finished trying to bomb London into surrender. Below her window, a long convoy of army trucks trundled past. Every road now seemed to be choked with military traffic and some areas of the south coast were forbidden to anyone except local residents. The pubs and clubs were crowded with young men in uniform, all grabbing a last chance for fun before they faced the perils ahead of them. Everyone knew that the Allied invasion of continental Europe was imminent and everyone, it seemed, had an opinion about where and when it would happen.

Sasha came out of the bathroom. He moved to stand behind her with his arms round her, nuzzling his face into her hair.

‘Are you glad to be back in England?’

‘Yes,’ she answered, ‘but I just wish it was for good, not just a couple of weeks.’

‘Well, at least it gives us two more weeks together,’ he said.

They were not to be allowed to forget affairs in their home country for long. Passing through the hotel lobby on their way back from dinner at their favourite restaurant, Leo was suddenly confronted by a familiar figure.

‘Brigadier Maclean! I didn’t expect to see you here.’

‘Nor did I expect to see you,’ he responded. ‘But I suppose you came to attend the wedding of the year.’

Leo said, ‘Fitz, this is my husband, Sasha. Sasha, this is Fitzroy Maclean, the British representative attached to Tito.’

The two men shook hands.

‘I thought you were in Bosnia,’ Leo said.

‘I left several days ago, called back for an in-depth briefing. Look, can we sit down and have a drink together? There’s something I’d like to discuss with you.’

When they were settled in the bar with whisky for Maclean and brandy for Sasha and Leo she asked, ‘How is your briefing going?’

‘Well, I’m happy to say that the reception has been altogether positive. I’m amazed at how much interest there is in Yugoslavia. I thought most people would regard it as a bit of a side show, but not so. We have been summoned to talk to the Chief of the Imperial General Staff and the heads of the RAF and the Navy. We were even sent for by General Eisenhower and by the PM himself. And to top it all, the King asked me to call on him. He is extraordinarily well briefed on the whole subject.’

‘You said “we”,’ Leo queried. ‘Is someone else with you?’

‘Oh, I should have said. Vladimir Velebit came over with me. He’s one of Tito’s closest advisers and a very astute fellow. He has been able to put the Partisans’ point of view across more convincingly than I can. But he’s gone back now to report to Tito. Pity, I should have liked you to meet him.’

‘Perhaps it’s for the best,’ Sasha said stiffly. ‘I’m not sure I’m ready to be on social terms with the men who are intent on destroying King Peter’s chance of returning to his throne. And I don’t suppose he would be comfortable chatting to a Serbian count.’

‘Of course,’ Maclean looked slightly abashed. ‘Tactless of me. But that reminds me of what I wanted to talk to you about. Did you know that we are in the process of setting up a Balkan Air Force? Tito sent some of his best young officers to Cairo to be trained as pilots and they are now ready to be operational.’

‘And the connection to me is… what?’ Sasha asked.

‘It has been suggested in certain quarters that Peter might join them. He is a qualified pilot, of course, and this would give him a chance to take an active part in the defence of his country.’

‘But on whose behalf?’ Sasha queried. ‘I understand Tito has ruled out any possibility of him returning.’

‘That’s another point,’ Maclean said. ‘Talking to Mr Churchill I get the impression that he is willing to put pressure on Tito in the form of withholding supplies, unless he is prepared to compromise on that point. He doesn’t want Yugoslavia to go into the communist sphere and he sees Peter as a way of maintaining western influence.’

Sasha rubbed his chin thoughtfully. ‘He would jump at the chance to join the air force, I know, and I suppose it might go some way to repairing the damage to his reputation that this wedding has done. But frankly, I can’t see it happening, can you? There are too many vested interests who would want to put a stop to it. And there is his own safety to consider.’

‘Well, it’s out of my hands,’ Maclean said. ‘But I thought it was worth sounding you out about his possible reaction.’

‘No doubt about that,’ Sasha said.

‘Oh, by the way,’ Maclean turned to Leo. ‘I saw a couple of old friends of yours yesterday.’

‘Friends of mine,’ she queried. ‘Who?’

‘The two Bills – Bailey and Hudson.’

‘They got out? I knew there were moves in place to pick Bailey up, but I didn’t know about Bill Hudson.’

‘Yes, they are both here. We all met at Chequers to talk to the PM.’

‘Oh, that’s wonderful!’ Leo exclaimed. ‘I’ve been so worried about them – especially Bill Hudson. He’s had such a long stint. How are they both?’

‘Well enough, I think. But why don’t you talk to them yourself? They’ve been put up at the Connaught. I’ll give you the phone number.’

When Maclean had wished them goodnight and left, Leo looked at her husband.

‘You wouldn’t mind, would you, if I tried to arrange a meeting? Bill Hudson was the first man we sent out and we became good friends while he was waiting to be despatched.’ She studied Sasha’s face for any hint that he had guessed how close she had come to betraying him, but he smiled and nodded.

‘Of course not. I’ll be interested to meet them.’

Next morning Leo rang the Connaught hotel and asked to be put through to Hudson. In response to an invitation to join them for lunch in their suite at Claridges, he told her that Bailey had gone to visit his family but he would be glad to accept.

Leo found herself unaccountably nervous at the prospect. She put on a smart suit, then changed it for a dress and spent a long time on her hair and makeup. Bill had found her beautiful, but that was two years ago. She scrutinised her face for signs of ageing, then berated herself for behaving like a silly young girl. If Sasha noticed anything unusual, he made no comment.

When Bill arrived, she forgot all about her own appearance in the shock of his. He was still erect and broad shouldered, but the agile, muscular look of the born athlete had gone. He had lost weight and his uniform looked too big for him, but it was his face that had changed most. His cheeks were hollow and his eyes had lost the sparkle she remembered so well.

He hesitated in the doorway, as if uncertain of his welcome until she went across and took both his hands.

‘Bill, I’m so glad to see you again. I’ve been so worried for you.’

The old carefree smile came back. ‘No need. It turns out I’m pretty indestructible.’

She drew him into the room. ‘This is my husband, Sasha.’

Sasha offered his hand. ‘Pleased to meet you.’

Bill shook hands. ‘Count Alexander Malkovic, is that correct? I’m very glad to meet you, sir.’

Sasha smiled. ‘It’s correct, but there’s no need for formality. Sasha will do.’

‘So, did you come out from Cavtat, with Bill Bailey?’ Leo asked.

‘No. We had got separated by then and I ended up in Partisan territory. I must say, they seem to have very good relations with the RAF. They rustled up a plane to take me out in a matter of hours.’

Over lunch Leo succeeded in getting Bill to talk about his time in Yugoslavia. He was reticent at first but under her tactful questioning the story of his abandonment by Mihailovic and his struggle for survival as an outcast came out. Then they moved on to talk about more recent events.

‘Tell me,’ Sasha said, ‘what is your opinion of this man Mihailovic?’

Bill lifted his shoulders. ‘I think he had the right intentions. He did what he was told to do by his government, lie low and wait for the Allies to invade and then rise up in support. But once the Partisans began to make gains he was obsessed with defeating them, rather than the Huns. He didn’t have the organisational ability to keep his troops under control and his regional commanders more or less did what they pleased, including collaborating with the Italians. And as he lost control, he became more and more unstable.’

‘So is the British government right to withdraw its support?’

‘I’m not sure. After the Yanks arrived he suddenly became much more interested in taking action. Well, that is to say, he wasn’t exactly keen on doing anything himself but he didn’t stop us trying. Mansfield and I – he was the first American to be dropped – had some fun blowing up railway lines and bridges. When the Allies finally arrive the Chetniks will probably make themselves useful. But who am I to say? It’s out of my hands now, thank god.’

When he got up to leave Leo asked, ‘What are you going to do now?’

He shrugged. ‘No idea. I’m on indefinite leave for the moment. After that I guess I’ll just have to go wherever they decide to send me.’

‘Well, keep in touch, won’t you? You can always contact me through the Cairo office.’

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I’ll do that.’ But for some reason Leo had the impression that she would not hear from him again.

She reached up and kissed his cheek. ‘Have a good leave, and take care of yourself.’

‘You, too.’ For an instant she felt the old flame rekindled. Then he turned to Sasha. ‘I hope things work out for you, and your people. Thanks for the lunch. Goodbye.’

Next day was Sunday, Easter Day in the Orthodox calendar. Sasha wanted to go to church so she accompanied him to St Sophia’s, the Greek Orthodox cathedral. She was not a believer, but she knew his religion was important to him so she always went with him to church in Belgrade or at their country estate and she was always moved by the simple faith of the ordinary people. But on this occasion, she felt no uplift to her mood. She missed the joyful voices of the peasants crying ‘Christ is Risen. He is risen indeed.’

Back at the hotel Sasha switched on the radio in their room for the midday news. They heard the announcer say:

‘Today Allied air forces mounted a massive attack on Belgrade, the capital of occupied Yugoslavia. The city was carpet bombed for several hours. There were no Allied losses.’

Sasha switched the radio off, his face contorted with a mixture of fury and distress. ‘How could they! How could they bomb our beautiful city? And on Easter Day, of all days.’

‘Just like the Germans did in 1941,’ Leo murmured numbly. ‘How can they justify that?’

‘I shall speak to the government in exile,’ he said. ‘They must make an official protest.’

‘It won’t do any good,’ she told him. ‘The excuse will be that it was a tactical necessity. It’s this bloody war! Is it ever going to end? Are we ever going to be able to go home?’

‘More to the point,’ Sasha said heavily, ‘will we have a home to go to?’