Free Lorimers at War by Anne Melville Page B

were no questions she could not ask.
    â€˜Why did you leave Russia, Sergei?’ she asked.
    Sergei sat down on the wooden chair beside her bed. ‘Do you know what happened in St Petersburg in 1905?’ he asked.
    Kate shook her head and he tutted sadly. ‘The British are interested in nothing but the problems of their own empire,’ he said.
    â€˜If that were true, we should hardly be fighting a waron behalf of Belgium. In any case, in 1905 I was a child living in Jamaica.’
    â€˜So you’ve never heard of Bloody Sunday? That’s where I lost my arm. You may have thought I was fighting valiantly against the Germans when I was wounded. It’s an impression I don’t trouble to correct. But I was just a student, marching peacefully with thousands of others to deliver a petition to the Tsar, when the Cossacks charged into us. The Cossacks have a very special kind of whip. Long and strong, and at the end dividing into two thongs with a thin strip of lead between them. It’s not intended for use on their horses, you understand. I was one of the lucky ones. At least I was alive when at last the horses galloped away. But while I was lying there in the snow I realized that it would be useless ever again to appeal to the Tsar against the incompetence and cruelty of his own agents. The people must take power into their own hands.’
    â€˜So you became a revolutionary?’
    â€˜All I did was to travel round the docks and factories, suggesting to the workers that they should form committees and consider the possibility of strikes. In October of that year there was a general strike and it was successful. The Tsar granted us a constitution. But within a week everyone who had been concerned with the strike was either under arrest or in hiding. Once again I was fortunate. I was able to escape. But I can never go back to Russia. There have been sad years.’ He paused for a little while as though to remember them. ‘Now the roads of Europe are filled with refugees, owning only what they can carry on their backs. I have become merely one of millions. You remember the children I brought to the hospital? The orphans?’
    â€˜Of course.’
    â€˜I arrange for those who recovered to go to a monastery in the north. There’s someone there who will never turn away anyone in need, as I found for myself. This morningI received a letter from him to say that a new offensive has started. The Germans and Austrians have launched a combined attack along the whole length of the northern front. The monastery is under shellfire and he has had to send the children south for their own safety. So they’re on the road again with nowhere to go – no homes, no families. What hope have they for the future, these little ones? Who will feed them? Who will care for them?’ He sighed. ‘Well, we must give thanks for each extra day of existence that is granted to us. If we can survive to the end of this trouble, perhaps it will be possible to build up a new life somewhere. As for you, you must build up your strength as fast as possible, before we have to go.’
    â€˜Go where?’ asked Kate.
    â€˜You’ve seen the Serbian Army. Brave men, but peasants. They have good discipline but no equipment, and there are too few of them. How long do you think they can hold back the armies of two military nations? For a little while, perhaps, because they know the terrain and they have the support of the people. But unless the Allies can spare men from the Western Front to strengthen them, this hospital will be in the hands of the invaders before November. The Germans and the Austrians are civilized enough. At least they obey their officers. But as soon as they win their first victory, the Bulgars will take the opportunity to invade from the south, picking the bones of Serbia like vultures. And I can tell you, the Bulgars are animals. They violate children, they cut off women’s