Fall of Giants

“But Mrs. McCulley has asked me to speak to you-and she’s here to prove it.”

Jayne McCulley said: “Don’t you remember me, Mrs. Hargreaves?”

“As a matter of fact, I do. You were very discourteous to me.”

Jayne turned to Maud. “I told her to go and poke her nose into someone else’s business.”

The women giggled at the reference to the nose, and Mrs. Hargreaves blushed.

Maud said: “But you cannot refuse an application for a separation allowance on the grounds that the applicant was rude to you.” Maud controlled her anger and tried to speak with icy disapproval. “Surely you know that?”

Mrs. Hargreaves tilted her chin defensively. “Mrs. McCulley was seen in the Dog and Duck public house, and at the Stepney Music Hall, on both occasions with a young man. The separation allowance is for wives of good conduct. The government does not wish to finance unchaste behavior.”

Maud wanted to strangle her. “You seem to misunderstand your role,” she said. “It is not for you to refuse payment on suspicion.”

Mrs. Hargreaves looked a little less sure of herself.

Ethel put in: “I suppose Mr. Hargreaves is safe at home, is it?”

“No, he’s not,” the woman replied quickly. “He’s with the army in Egypt.”

“Oh!” said Ethel. “So you receive a separation allowance too.”

“That’s neither here nor there.”

“Does someone come to your house, Mrs. Hargreaves, to check on your conduct? Do they look at the level of the sherry in the decanter on your sideboard? Are you questioned about your friendship with your grocer’s deliveryman?”

“How dare you!”

Maud said: “Your indignation is understandable-but perhaps now you will appreciate why Mrs. McCulley reacted as she did to your questioning.”

Mrs. Hargreaves raised her voice. “That’s ridiculous-there’s no comparison!”

“No comparison?” Maud said angrily. “Her husband, like yours, is risking his life for his country. Both you and she claim the separation allowance. But you have the right to judge her behavior and refuse her the money-while no one judges you. Why not? Officers’ wives sometimes drink too much.”

Ethel said: “They commit adultery, too.”

“That’s it!” shouted Mrs. Hargreaves. “I refuse to be insulted.”

“So does Jayne McCulley,” said Ethel.

Maud said: “The man you saw with Mrs. McCulley was her brother. He was home on leave from France. He had only two days, and she wanted him to enjoy himself before going back to the trenches. That was why she took him to the pub and the music hall.”

Mrs. Hargreaves looked abashed, but she put on a defiant air. “She should have explained that when I questioned her. And now I must ask you please to leave the premises.”

“Now that you know the truth, I trust you will approve Mrs. McCulley’s application.”

“We’ll see.”

“I insist that you do it here and now.”

“Impossible.”

“We’re not leaving until you do.”

“Then I shall call the police.”

“Very well.”

Mrs. Hargreaves retreated.

Ethel turned to the admiring reporter. “Where is your photographer?”

“Waiting outside.”

A few minutes later, a burly middle-aged police constable came in. “Now, now, ladies,” he said. “No trouble, please. Just leave quietly.”

Maud stepped forward. “I am refusing to leave,” she said. “Never mind about the others.”

“And who would you be, madam?”

“I am Lady Maud Fitzherbert, and if you want me to go you’ll have to carry me out.”

“If you insist,” said the policeman, and he picked her up.

As they left the building, the photographer took a picture.

{IV}

“Aren’t you scared?” Mildred said.

“Aye,” Billy admitted. “I am, a bit.”

He could talk to Mildred. She seemed to know all about him anyway. She had been living with his sister for a couple of years, and women always told each other everything. However, there was something else about Mildred that made him feel comfortable. Aberowen girls were always trying to impress boys, saying things for effect and checking their appearance in mirrors, but Mildred was just herself. She said outrageous things sometimes, and made Billy laugh. He felt he could tell her anything.

He was almost overwhelmed by how attractive she was. It was not her fair curly hair or her blue eyes, but her devil-may-care attitude that mesmerized him. Then there was the age difference. She was twenty-three, and he was still not quite eighteen. She seemed very worldly-wise, yet she was frankly interested in him, and that was highly flattering. He looked longingly at her across the room, hoping he would get a chance to talk to her alone, wondering if he would dare to touch her hand, put his arm around her, and kiss her.

They were sitting around the square table in Ethel’s kitchen: Billy, Tommy, Ethel, and Mildred. It was a warm evening, and the door was open to the backyard. On the flagstone floor Mildred’s two little girls were playing with Lloyd. Enid and Lillian were three and four years old, but Billy had not yet worked out which was which. Because of the children, the women had not wanted to go out, so Billy and Tommy had fetched some bottles of beer from the pub.