Fall of Giants

Ethel had not communicated with Fitz since the day of Lloyd George’s speech. Fitz’s public opposition to peace had reminded her harshly of his true nature. He stood for everything she hated: tradition, conservatism, exploitation of the working class, unearned wealth. She could not be the lover of such a man, and she felt ashamed of herself for even being tempted by the house in Chelsea. Her true soul mate was Bernie.

Ethel wore the pink silk dress and flowered hat that Walter von Ulrich had bought her for Maud Fitzherbert’s wedding. There were no bridesmaids, but Mildred and Maud served as matrons of honor. Ethel’s parents came up from Aberowen on the train. Sadly, Billy was in France and could not get leave. Little Lloyd wore a pageboy outfit specially made for him by Mildred, sky blue with brass buttons and a cap.

Bernie surprised Ethel by producing a family no one knew about. His elderly mother spoke nothing but Yiddish and muttered under her breath all through the service. She lived with Bernie’s prosperous older brother, Theo, who-Mildred discovered, flirting with him-owned a bicycle factory in Birmingham.

Afterward tea and cake were served in the hall. There were no alcoholic drinks, which suited Da and Mam, and smokers had to go outside. Mam kissed Ethel and said: “I’m glad to see you settled at last, anyway.” That word anyway carried a lot of baggage, Ethel thought. It meant: “Congratulations, even though you’re a fallen woman, and you’ve got an illegitimate child whose father no one knows, and you’re marrying a Jew, and living in London, which is the same as Sodom and Gomorrah.” But Ethel accepted Mam’s qualified blessing and vowed never to say such things to her own child.

Mam and Da had bought cheap day-return tickets, and they left to catch their train. When the majority of guests had gone, the remainder went to the Dog and Duck for a few drinks.

Ethel and Bernie went home when it was Lloyd’s bedtime. That morning, Bernie had put his few clothes and many books into a handcart and wheeled it from his rented lodgings to Ethel’s house.

To give themselves one night alone, they put Lloyd to bed upstairs with Mildred’s children, which Lloyd regarded as a special treat. Then Ethel and Bernie had cocoa in the kitchen and went to bed.

Ethel had a new nightdress. Bernie put on clean pajamas. When he got into bed beside her, he broke into a nervous sweat. Ethel stroked his cheek. “Although I’m a scarlet woman, I haven’t got much experience,” she said. “Just my first husband, and that was only for a few weeks before he went away.” She had not told Bernie about Fitz and never would. Only Billy and the lawyer Albert Solman knew the truth.

“You’re better off than me,” Bernie said, but already she could feel him beginning to relax. “Just a few fumbles.”

“What were their names?”

“Oh, you don’t want to know.”

She grinned. “Yes, I do. How many women? Six? Ten? Twenty?”

“Good God, no. Three. The first was Rachel Wright, in school. Afterward she said we would have to get married, and I believed her. I was so worried.”

Ethel giggled. “What happened?”

“The next week she did it with Micky Armstrong, and I was off the hook.”

“Was it nice with her?”

“I suppose it was. I was only sixteen. Mainly I just wanted to be able to say I had done it.”

She kissed him gently, then said: “Who was next?”

“Carol McAllister. She was a neighbor. I paid her a shilling. It was a bit brief-I think she knew what to do and say to get it over quickly. The part she liked was taking the money.”

Ethel frowned disapprovingly, then recalled the house in Chelsea, and realized she had contemplated doing the same as Carol McAllister. Feeling uncomfortable, she said: “Who was the other one?”

“An older woman. She was my landlady. She came to my bed at night when her husband was away.”

“Was it nice with her?”

“Lovely. It was a happy time for me.”

“What went wrong?”

“Her husband got suspicious and I had to leave.”

“And then?”

“Then I met you, and I lost all interest in other women.”

They began to kiss. Soon he pushed up the skirt of her nightdress and got on top of her. He was gentle, worried about hurting her, but he entered her easily. She felt a surge of affection for him, for his kindness and intelligence and devotion to her and her child. She put her arms around him and hugged his body to hers. Quite soon, his climax came. Then they both lay back, content, and went to sleep.

{V}

Women’s skirts had changed, Gus Dewar realized. They now showed the ankles. Ten years ago, a glimpse of ankle had been arousing; now it was mundane. Perhaps women covered their nakedness to make themselves more alluring, not less.