Page 44 of A Call to Home (Women of the Resistance #3)

Belgrade

October 1944

Tito ordered a victory parade in the grounds of the castle and a messenger from Koca Popovic reminded Alix that, although she had been seconded to work for Tito, she was still a member of the First Brigade and was expected to march with them. She had left her rifle behind when she went with Tito to Moscow, so she had to go to the armourer and draw another one. The weight of it on her shoulder was oddly comforting, reminding her that she was an integral part of the force that had driven the enemy from her country, and that she had played a full part in that. Joining the others as they formed up for the parade she found Natalia, who had been part of her team of bombasi when they took Bihac. There were other women there, but none she had worked closely with, and abruptly she was brought face to face with the loss of so many men and women she had cared for. There was Mitra, who had been her best friend, and Olga who had looked after her when her spirits were at a low ebb and others whose memory was already beginning to fade. Hardest of all was the absence of Nikola, and of her beloved Dragomir. They should have been here to celebrate the victory with her.

Looking around her she reflected that there could hardly be a single man or woman who was not regretting the loss of a dear friend, but the prevailing atmosphere was one of celebration. They were not dressed for a parade. Their uniforms were patched and dirty, many still made up of a collection of garments taken from fallen enemies. Many of their boots were almost worn out. They were all tired. They had marched the length and breadth of Bosnia and Montenegro and now Serbia. They had suffered starvation and frostbite and heat stroke as well as battle wounds; and they were not done yet. As soon as the celebrations were over they would be on the march again, pursuing the fleeing Germans and cutting off their retreat. But they had come through victorious. That was all that mattered now.

They marched past the saluting base where Tito stood with Fitzroy Maclean beside him with their heads up and smiles on their faces, and Alix felt tears of pride stinging her eyes.

Later that day, when the parade was over, her temporary euphoria was replaced by sorrow at Nikola’s death and a nagging sense of guilt.

‘He died saving us,’ she said to Steve. ‘If we hadn’t been there, or if we hadn’t called him over to join us…’

‘Then we would probably be dead instead,’ he said. He took hold of her hand. ‘It’s no good thinking like that. It happens in war. The guy next to you gets shot and you think “if I’d stood in his place…” but you didn’t and he’s dead and you’re not. That’s luck.’

‘But this is more than luck,’ she said. ‘He sacrificed himself…’

‘Maybe not. He pushed us down and threw himself on top of us. He meant to save us, but he probably hoped to save himself as well. But the fact remains, we owe him our lives.’

‘It’s so unjust!’ she said. ‘I hated him to begin with and he really was…’ she struggled for words, ‘…I shouldn’t put it like this, but he was a pain in the you know where . He tried to force me into an engagement and he was horrible to Dragomir, but after a while… well, I suppose he grew up. We all learned a lot, didn’t we? In the end I really liked him, I even loved him. It’s so sad that we will never be able to build on that.’

‘I liked him too,’ Steve agreed, ‘but I think he would always have carried a torch for you, you know. I’m not sure he could have settled for anyone else. Perhaps, as things worked out…’ He let the thought trail away into silence. ‘I’ll miss him, but there are a lot of people I shall miss and it must be the same for you, and for everyone else. We must carry on without them. What matters is, we are here. We’ve survived, so far at least. Now we must think of the future.’

Alix heaved a sigh and pushed her regrets aside. ‘You’re right, of course. And on that point, what happens now, to you?’

‘I’m not sure,’ he admitted. ‘Maclean says he’s going back to Bari to report in. I suppose I’ll have to go with him.’

‘Must you? We’ve had so little time together.’

‘I know, but I don’t have to remind you, I’m a serving airman. I must go where I’m sent.’

‘Where do you think that might be?’ she asked.

‘Who knows? I suppose it depends on Brigadier Gubbins, who sent me out here. If he has no further use for me I suppose I’ll be sent back to my squadron. We have to remember that although our little war may be over the main event is still ongoing.’

‘You mean you might be sent back to be a navigator in bombers, over Germany?’ she asked, with a chill of dread.

‘It’s possible.’ He shrugged. ‘But it’s so long since I did that job I think I’d need a refresher course.’

‘Maybe the brigadier can find another use for you,’ she suggested. ‘After all, we are celebrating and talking about victory, but it isn’t over here, either. Koca and Peko and their men are still chasing the Boches and they won’t give up until they’ve driven them back to Berlin.’

‘But Tito will stay here?’

‘Oh yes. He’s focusing his attention on establishing a new administration, a new state. He’s going to create a new Yugoslavia.’

‘And you? Will you stay with him?’

She paused, shaking her head. ‘I just don’t know, Steve. Will there be any place for me in his new utopia? And what about you? I mean, after the war. What are your plans for the long term?’

‘Ah.’ He paused, formulating his answer. ‘Well, you know I have always wanted to be a writer. I’ve kept a diary all through the war.’

‘I know, I’ve seen you scribbling away.’

‘I had to leave it behind when I was smuggled out of Belgium, back in 1940, but I rewrote it from memory when I got back, so with what I’ve added since it’s a pretty comprehensive record. What I really want to do is turn it into a book. I think there will be a market for that sort of thing, especially considering my war hasn’t exactly followed the usual lines.’

‘I think that’s a great idea,’ Alix said.

‘The problem is,’ he went on ruefully, ‘I shall have to find a way of earning a crust while I’m doing it. I’d like to try my hand at journalism, but I’m not sure how to start.’

‘There must be someone we know who can help you there,’ she said. ‘But apart from that, what about us?’

‘Indeed,’ he said. ‘What about us?’ He took her hand. ‘Alix, I’d like us to be married before I’m sent off somewhere else. Will you?’

She leaned her head against his shoulder. ‘You know I want that, too. But there’s something else… I really don’t want to marry without telling my parents. I don’t mean asking their consent. We’ve gone a long way past that. I just think if I went ahead and married a man they haven’t even met I might never be able to patch up the breach with my father. You do understand that, don’t you?’

‘So what are the chances of me meeting them, any time soon?’ he asked.

‘That’s something I’ve been thinking about,’ she said. ‘I need to talk to Tito.’

‘When will you do that?’

‘We’ve got this big celebration banquet tomorrow. I’ll try to find a moment after that, when he’s feeling mellow.’ She twisted her head to look up at him. ‘But what about your parents? Don’t they need to know, too?’

He sighed deeply. ‘You know, I haven’t seen them since I left home in 1938. They don’t even know what I’ve been doing. I wrote when I got back to England after I escaped, of course, but then I was recruited for this hush-hush business and before I left England I was asked to write a whole load of postcards, just saying I was okay but couldn’t reveal any details because of censorship. They will have been posted off at intervals since I was sent over here. Now I must write properly and tell them about you, but I can’t see myself getting back home for a long while yet. I don’t want to have to wait that long before we get married.’

‘Nor do I,’ she said. ‘Maybe we shall just have to explain by letter…’

‘And maybe,’ he said, smiling, ‘one of these fine days, I’ll just turn up in Fairbanks, Alaska, with a blushing bride on my arm.’

The victory banquet was a lavish affair, with all the members of the Supreme Council and the generals of the People’s Liberation Army at the top table alongside Maclean and some of the other British liaison officers who had played such a vital role in keeping the army supplied. Also there was Dr Subasic, the newly elected prime minister of the Yugoslav government in exile. Alix and Steve were not at the top table, but they were seated close by. When it was over Alix hoped for a chance to speak to Tito alone, but he was still occupied with his close friends. She reminded herself that things would be very different now. He would no longer need her at his side to take notes or compose signals. It occurred to her that from now on she might need to make an appointment to talk to him.

In that she was wrong. He had taken over a suite at the only hotel that was undamaged and when she knocked at the door next morning he greeted her with, ‘Where have you been? I’ve been waiting for you. There’s work to be done.’

‘Oh,’ she was taken by surprise, ‘you still want me to work for you?’

‘Why not? Do you think I can do all this by myself?’ Then he stopped and looked at her. ‘I’m presuming too much. You have always been a free agent. You joined up with us voluntarily and now you have your own life to live. You must have plans. Of course, you want to get married. You have had to wait too long as it is.’

‘I do want to,’ she agreed, ‘but not just yet and till then I’ll be happy to stay on and help in any way I can. But first there is something I need to ask of you – a big favour.’

‘So ask. You deserve a great deal.’

Alix cleared her throat. She had tried to prepare the words but was still unsure of the right approach. ‘I haven’t seen my parents since before the war. I should like them to come home, but I don’t know if that would be agreeable to you.’

He tilted his head and regarded her. ‘Your father is Count Malkovic, an ardent supporter of King Peter. If he comes back here, how do I know he will not spend his time campaigning for the king’s return?’

This was the question Alix had feared. ‘Is there no chance of Peter being allowed to come back? I know Comrade Stalin was in favour of it.’

‘Comrade Stalin does not understand the strength of feeling in this country. You know as well as I do, that to the ordinary people Peter is a traitor who fled the country to spend the war at ease in London, and who saw fit to get married while his people were still suffering. Your father must be made to understand that.’

‘My father is a realist,’ Alix said. ‘He understood long before the war that things would have to change here and he tried to push through some reforms to the system. It was not his fault that there were too many vested interests working against him.’

‘You have told me how he tried to look after his people,’ Tito conceded, ‘building a school, and a clinic…’

‘And my mother used to go around the local villages vaccinating children and helping pregnant women,’ Alix added eagerly. ‘I am sure, if you allowed him to come back and if he saw the way you want the country to be, he would want to support that.’

‘If he were to give me his word that he would not undertake any activity that might encourage the royalists, could I be sure he would keep it?’

‘Yes. He is a man of honour. He would never go back on his word.’

Tito ruminated for a moment. ‘I am in discussions about the future with Prime Minister Simovic and with your Mr Churchill. There are suggestions that we might appoint a regency council, under me, to consider the future of the monarchy. Your father’s advice might be useful. But if he returns, he must understand that he cannot go back to the old way of living. There will be no aristocracy. He will be plain Alexander Malkovic, no title. And he will not be allowed to retain all his lands. I plan to bring in a law that forbids anyone from owning more than ten hectares. The rest he must give to the peasants who work it. He will not be able to live in the style he was used to.’

Alix thought of the wide estate on which she had grown up. ‘Will we be allowed to keep our country house… if it is still standing?’

Tito’s face softened. ‘It would be a poor recompense for your loyalty to take away your home. You may keep the house and ten hectares of land. If that is enough to live on, and if he is prepared to accept whatever constitutional changes are agreed upon, I see no reason why he and your mother should not return. If they so wish.’

Alix caught a breath of relief. ‘Thank you. Thank you so much.’

‘You say you do not know if your house is still standing?’

‘I think the town house has gone, in the bombing,’ she said. ‘But I don’t know about the country one.’

‘Then take a few days off and go and see,’ Tito said. ‘Borrow one of the jeeps and take a couple of Nikola’s men with you as bodyguards. I have heard bad things about the behaviour of some of the Russian soldiers. I don’t want you to fall prey to them.’

As soon as Tito had finished with her for the day Alix went to her room and wrote a letter. Then she went to find Maclean and found him packing his belongings.

‘Steve says you are going back to Bari. When do you leave?’

‘This evening. Is there something I can do?’

‘Please could you give this letter to my mother?’

He took the envelope. ‘Of course. I know she will be thrilled to hear from you. But wouldn’t you like to see her? I could probably get you on the plane tonight.’

Alix hesitated, tempted, but said, ‘There are things I need to do here. I must find out what has happened to my home and all the people who live and work there. This letter is inviting my parents to return. I’m sure they must be longing to get back.’

‘Of course,’ Maclean said, ‘but is it wise right now, bearing in mind your father’s known connection with the king?’

‘I’ve spoken to Tito. He’s agreeable, under certain conditions.’

‘Then it’s none of my business,’ Maclean said. ‘I’ll be glad to deliver your letter.’ He met her eyes. ‘You know I’m taking Steve with me?’

‘Yes, he told me.’ She paused, then plunged in. ‘Do you have any idea where he will be sent next?’

Maclean shook his head. ‘Not my decision. That will be up to Brigadier Gubbins. But if it’s any comfort, I shall be writing a very favourable report of his conduct. He deserves a promotion, if nothing else.’

‘I just hate to think of him being sent back to fly bombers over Germany,’ Alix said.

‘I doubt that will happen,’ Maclean said consolingly. ‘I’m sure Gubbins will have a use for him. But you had better say your goodbyes for now. We are leaving soon.’

Steve looked up from packing away his diary. ‘I was just coming to find you. We’re off in a few minutes.’

‘Yes, I know.’ She told him what Maclean had said and he grinned.

‘Well, the promotion will be welcome. It’s nice to know I’m appreciated.’ Then he became serious and took her in his arms. ‘Listen. This war can’t go on much longer. The Reds are pushing up through Hungary and I heard on the news last night that our troops have just occupied Aachen. That’s the first German city to fall. It can’t be much longer before they reach Berlin. Wherever they send me, you know I’ll be back for you just as soon as I can.’

She kissed him. ‘I know that, my darling. Just, please, try to stay safe until then.’

‘I will,’ he promised.

Their last kiss was interrupted by a shout from Maclean. ‘Come on! We’re leaving.’

With Steve gone, Alix turned her attention to discovering what was left of her home. She went to the disused warehouse where Nikola’s men were quartered to find her escort. She had forgotten in the busy activity of the last days that they, too, had suffered from his loss. As they exchanged commiserations, she realised that, for all his faults, he had been respected and even loved by his men. Many of them were men she had recruited herself from the family estate, back in the days when Tito was just beginning to put a force together to resist the occupation. She chose two of them, Dmitri who had been a close friend of Dragomir, and Marco, who had acted as Nikola’s batman after Drago’s death.

With them at her side she set out to see what was left of the family’s town house. She was glad to have them. Terrible rumours were circulating about the conduct of the Russian soldiers, stories of women being raped and then murdered, and she saw for herself the suggestive leers on some of their faces as she passed them in the street. One officer approached her with a smile.

‘So, pretty comrade, do you like vodka? Why don’t you come and share a drink with me?’

‘Thank you,’ Alix replied, ‘but I am on a mission for Marshall Tito.’

‘Ah, I have something to show the Marshall. If you come with me I can let you have it.’

‘No, I’m sorry. I have to get on.’

Dmitri and Marco moved up on either side of her and she was very glad to have two large, well-armed men at her side. The Russian looked from her to them, shrugged and turned away.

‘It is your loss. What I have for you is something you will not get from these two.’

They made their way down Knez Mihailova street to where the town house stood. It was still there, but it was a skeleton, the windows blown out and part of the roof missing. Alix peered inside. Much of the furniture was missing, looted presumably, but what remained, too heavy to move, was covered by dust sheets as if someone was still trying to preserve it. Moving in closer through the missing front door, she saw that the door leading to the cellar had been replaced. The wood was new and unpainted but it looked sturdy enough. Alix approached and knocked hesitantly and thought she heard movement inside. She knocked louder and called, ‘It’s me, Alexandra.’

There was a rattle of bolts and the door creaked open to reveal the face of Ivo, the family butler. It was thinner and more lined than she remembered and his hair needed cutting, but there was no mistaking his expression of joy as he recognised her.

‘Miss Lexie! You’re alive! You’re safe! We have been so worried about you.’

‘I’ve been worried about you, too, Ivo,’ she said. ‘Are you living down there in the cellar?’

‘Yes, miss.’ He drew back and opened the door more fully. ‘Please come down. We’ve made it as comfortable as possible.’

In the cellar Alix found a small group of people who greeted her ecstatically. Cook was there, and Gregor, her father’s manservant, and Jana, her mother’s lady’s maid and the old man who had acted as general handyman.

‘We sent the maids back to their families,’ Ivo said. ‘Most of them came from outside the city so they were safer there, and the younger men all went to fight.’

‘Who for?’ Alix asked, then wished she hadn’t.

Ivo shook his head. ‘I’ve no idea, miss. But please, do you have any news of the Count, your father, or your lady mother?’

‘They are safe,’ she told him. ‘My father is with the king in London and my mother is in Italy. I hope they will be coming home soon.’

‘Alas, to what home?’ Ivo asked.

‘Have you any news from Kuca Magnolija?’ she asked.

‘I believe that has survived,’ he told her, ‘but we have not had any contact since the Russian soldiers came.’

Alix looked round the cellar. A table she recognised from the kitchen had been set in the centre of the space with chairs around it and on shelves around the walls there were piles of china and silver she knew came from the dining room.

‘We saved as much as we could,’ Ivo explained, ‘before the looters got in. Some of your father’s things are there in that suitcase and your mother’s dresses are hanging over there under those sheets.’

‘And I have your mother’s jewellery case safe, too,’ Jana said.

Alix hugged her and then Ivo and then all the others and a bottle of brandy appeared and soon they were all sitting round the table exchanging news.

‘How have you managed for provisions?’ she asked.

‘Until lately there hasn’t been a problem,’ Cook said. ‘There is rationing, of course, but the peasants brought their produce to market as usual. Just recently it has been more difficult. The Russians take whatever they want and the farmers have nothing to spare, or they are frightened to come into town. But we are well prepared and I have stocked up with foods that will last.’

Looking round, Alix saw hams hanging from hooks in the ceiling and jars of preserves lined up on shelves.

‘You have done brilliantly to survive and keep the house safe,’ she said. ‘My father will be very grateful when he returns. But you can’t go on living like this and there must be hundreds of others in the same condition. I shall speak to Marshall Tito about it. Some sort of order must be restored. But the Russians will be gone soon. They are not allowed to stay.’

‘You know this man Tito?’ Ivo asked, wide eyed. And that set off another exchange of news.

Cook insisted on giving them lunch. When they had eaten Alix promised to come back again very soon and then headed with her two bodyguards to the garage where the jeeps belonging to Tito’s Staff were kept. Tito had given her a note authorising the use of a vehicle, so a jeep and a driver were provided. Alix noted, as they navigated the streets, that they were less obstructed than she remembered from the immediate aftermath of the German bombing at the start of the war. The Germans had done a good job of clearing the rubble when they moved in. The Allied bombing had done damage, but not on the same scale. So it was a great deal easier to drive out into the country than it had been last time she was there.

As they drove, Alix was reassured to see that the fields were cultivated and the orchards and vineyards were well tended. From the look of it, the harvest had been good. She began to feel more optimistic. Then, almost before she expected, they were there, driving up the long tree-lined drive to the house, with the great magnolia that gave it its name in the courtyard. Miraculously, it seemed undamaged, though the paintwork needed attention and the gardens were unkempt.

She was greeted with the same joy by Bogdan and the rest of the household as she had met in town and her two escorts were welcomed with hugs and then sent off to spend an hour or two with the families they had not seen for three years. The house was undamaged, she was told, largely because some German officers had been billeted there and, Bogdan assured her, they had behaved very correctly. It had been a difficult time for everyone, and they were glad to see the back of them, but now, Bogdan assured her, everything would get back to normal and they would be ready to receive the Count and his lady as soon as they could get there.

Alix went up to her bedroom. She looked round at the books and photographs and ornaments that she had collected as a girl, but they looked now unfamiliar, as if they belonged to a stranger or perhaps a friend she had not met for a long time. She had been aware that, delighted as they were to see her, Bogdan and the others were looking at her oddly and it struck her how different she must seem to them from the girl they had known. She was different. She remembered the headstrong girl, spoilt by a father who could deny her nothing, to whom she had denied the one thing he had set his heart on, Nikola as a son-in-law. She remembered the student in Paris, embarking on an ill-fated love affair as a rebuff to the ‘bourgeois morality’ of her upbringing; the girl who had almost lost the love of her life out of mistaken loyalty; the girl who had drifted almost by accident into distributing anti-Nazi propaganda and gone on from there to risk her life conducting downed airmen to safety. She remembered the young woman who, back in her own country, had, as a logical consequence, joined the next resistance movement to offer itself; who would have died in the snows of Mount Zlatibor but for Dragomir’s devoted help; who grew stronger and fitter and could march all day without tiring and sleep on the ground under the stars without complaint. The girl who had grown into a woman who could shoulder a rifle and shoot to kill if the occasion demanded it. Yes, she had changed.