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Fitz shook hands. Leckwith was in his twenties. Fitz guessed that poor eyesight had kept him out of the armed forces.
"I'm sorry to see you wounded, Lord Fitzherbert," Leckwith said in a cockney accent.
"I was one of thousands, and lucky to be alive. "
"With hindsight, is there anything we could have done differently at the Somme, that would have greatly altered the outcome?"
Fitz thought for a moment. It was a damned good question.
While he considered, Leckwith said: "Did we need more men and ammunition, as the generals claim? Or more flexible tactics and better communications, as the politicians say?"
Fitz said thoughtfully: "All those things would have helped but, frankly, I don't think they would have brought us victory. The assault was doomed from the start. But we could not possibly have known that in advance. We had to try. "
Leckwith nodded, as if his own view had been confirmed. "I appreciate your candor," he said, almost as if Fitz had made a confession.
They left the chapel. Fitz handed Aunt Herm and Maud into the waiting car, then got in himself, and the chauffeur drove away.
Fitz found himself breathing hard. He had suffered a small shock. Three years ago Ethel had been counting pillowcases at Ty Gwyn. Today she was the managing editor of a newspaper that, although small, was considered by senior ministers to be a thorn in the flesh of the government.
What was her relationship with the surprisingly intelligent Bernie Leckwith? "Who was that chap Leckwith?" he asked Maud.
"An important local politician. "
"Is he Williams's husband?"
Maud laughed. "No, though everyone thinks he should be. He's a clever man who shares her ideals, and he's devoted to her son. I don't know why Ethel didn't marry him years ago. "
"Perhaps he doesn't make her heart beat faster. "
Maud raised her eyebrows, and Fitz realized he had been dangerously candid.
He added hastily: "Girls of that type want romance, don't they? She'll marry a war hero, not a librarian. "
"She's not a girl of that type or any other type," Maud said rather frostily. "She's nothing if not exceptional. You don't meet two like her in a lifetime. "
Fitz looked away. He knew that was true.
He wondered what the child was like. It must have been one of the dirty-faced toddlers playing on the floor of the chapel. He had probably seen his own son this afternoon. He was strangely moved by the thought. For some reason it made him want to cry.
The car was passing through Trafalgar Square. He told the driver to stop. "I'd better drop in at the office," he explained to Maud.
He limped into the Old Admiralty Building and up the stairs. His desk was in the diplomatic section, which inhabited Room 45. Sublieutenant Carver, a student of Latin and Greek who had come down from Cambridge to help decode German signals, told him that not many intercepts had come in during the afternoon, as usual, and there was nothing he needed to deal with. However, there was some political news. "Have you heard?" said Carver. "The king has summoned Lloyd George. "
{II}
All the next morning, Ethel told herself she was not going to meet Fitz. How dared he suggest such a thing? For more than two years she had heard nothing from him. Then when they met he had not even asked about Lloyd-his own child! He was the same selfish, thoughtless deceiver as always.
All the same, she had been thrown into a whirl. Fitz had looked at her with his intense green eyes, and asked her questions about her life that made her feel she was important to him-contrary to all the evidence. He was no longer the perfect, godlike man he had once been: his beautiful face was marred by one half-closed eye, and he stooped over his walking stick. But his weakness only made her want to take care of him. She told herself she was a fool. He had all the care money could buy. She would not go to meet him.
At twelve noon she left the premises of The Soldier's Wife-two small rooms over a print shop, shared with the Independent Labour Party-and caught a bus. Maud was not at the office that morning, which saved Ethel the trouble of inventing an excuse.
It was a long journey by bus and underground train from Aldgate to Victoria, and Ethel arrived at the rendezvous a few minutes after one o'clock. She wondered if Fitz might have grown impatient and left, and the thought made her feel slightly ill; but he was there, wearing a tweed suit as if he were going into the country, and she immediately felt better.
He smiled. "I was afraid you weren't coming," he said.
"I don't know why I did," she replied. "Why did you ask me?"
"I want to show you something. " He took her arm.
