Master Georgie by Beryl Bainbridge

Author:Beryl Bainbridge
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: 1853-1856, Historical & Mythological Fiction, Crimean War, Fiction, Historical, Fantasy, Historical fiction, General, History
ISBN: 9780349111698
Publisher: Abacus
Published: 2009-08-28T07:00:00+00:00

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I rented the top half of a house at Scutari. George, who, until we joined him, had been sleeping at the hospital, was delighted at the move. Our windows overlooked the sea of Marmora and he was within walking distance, through the yard of a mosque, of the Great Barrack. Beyond what was absolutely essential, we had little in the way of furniture and Myrtle insisted it stayed that way. I was all for rushing off to procure sideboards and pictures and the like, but she said we weren’t at home and it was no good pretending life was as it had always been. As it happened, we weren’t destined to stay there very long.

A most remarkable change took place in Myrtle - in her appearance, that is. While George and I visibly lost weight, owing to heat and a restricted diet, etc., she appeared to gain some; her cheeks filled out and her throat and arms became rounded. Her face, once pale, turned golden in the sun and as she refused to cover her head, her hair leapt with threads of fiery colour. Result - it was as though Myrtle, previously lurking in mist, had now emerged into the light. I doubt if George noticed the difference, he being so preoccupied with other matters, but I did feel it was just as well poor, deluded Naughton was no longer on the scene. If he had been smitten before, this new, glowing Myrtle might well have sent him into madness. Naughton, after a hefty sum had been raised to sweeten the Turkish authorities - I myself, or rather George, having contributed generously to the fund -had been shipped off home. I accompanied him to the boat, where, before boarding and too distressed to speak, he clung to my hand like a drowning man. I’d adjusted my expression accordingly, though I reckon shame still swam in my eyes.

In June, George was summoned to Constantinople to appear before the Army Medical Staff. He was informed that henceforth he would be attached, in the capacity of Assistant Surgeon, to the 2nd division, presently to be quartered at Varna. He advised me not to tell Myrtle the reason for his appointment - no fewer than three doctors had successively held the post before him, and all had succumbed to cholera.

I expressed alarm, but he assured me that the danger of infection was as great here as there. For weeks, hundreds of the sick had been arriving at Scutari. The disease had taken such a hold that the dying lay in mouldering rows along the endless corridors of the Barrack Hospital. So much death and still a shot not fired!

I’m not a brave man and I must admit it did cross my mind that I might return to Constantinople and thence home. I suspect I would have done so, had it not been for Myrtle. Nothing on earth would have persuaded her to leave George, and if a mere woman was willing to stand her

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