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They walked out of the station. Ethel felt foolishly pleased to be arm in arm with Fitz. She wondered at his boldness. He was an easily recognizable figure. What if they ran into one of his friends? She supposed they would pretend not to see one another. In Fitz's social class, a man who had been married a few years was not expected to be faithful.
They rode a bus a few stops and got off in the raffish suburb of Chelsea, a low-rent neighborhood of artists and writers. Ethel wondered what he wanted her to see. They walked along a street of small villas. Fitz said: "Have you ever watched a debate in Parliament?"
"No," she said. "But I'd love to. "
"You have to be invited by an M. P. or a peer. Shall I arrange it?"
"Yes, please!"
He looked happy that she had accepted. "I'll check when there's going to be something interesting. You might like to see Lloyd George in action. "
"Yes!"
"He is putting his government together today. I should think he will kiss the king's hand as prime minister tonight. "
Ethel gazed about her thoughtfully. In parts, Chelsea still looked like the country village it had been a hundred years ago. The older buildings were cottages and farmhouses, low-built with large gardens and orchards. There was not much greenery in December, but even so the neighborhood had a pleasant semirural feel. "Politics is a funny business," she said. "I've wanted Lloyd George for prime minister ever since I was old enough to read the newspaper, but now that it's happened I'm dismayed. "
"Why?"
"He's the most belligerent senior figure in the government. His appointment might kill off any chance of peace. On the other hand. . . "
Fitz looked intrigued. "What?"
"He's the only man who could agree to peace talks without being crucified by Northcliffe's bloodthirsty newspapers. "
"That's a point," Fitz said, looking worried. "If an
yone else did it, the headlines would scream: 'Fire Asquith-or Balfour, or Bonar Law-and bring in Lloyd George!' But if they attack Lloyd George there's no one left. "
"So maybe there is a hope of peace. "
He allowed his tone of voice to become testy. "Why aren't you hoping for victory, rather than peace?"
"Because that's how we got into this mess," she said equably. "What are you going to show me?"
"This. " He unlatched a gate and held it open. They entered the grounds of a detached two-story house. The garden was overgrown and the place needed painting, but it was a charming medium-size home, the kind of place that might be owned by a successful musician, Ethel imagined, or perhaps a well-known actor. Fitz took a key from his pocket and opened the door. They stepped inside, and he closed the door and kissed her.
She gave herself up to it. She had not been kissed for a long time, and she felt like a thirsty traveler in a desert. She stroked his long neck and pressed her breasts against his chest. She sensed that he was as desperate as she. Before she lost control she pushed him away. "Stop," she said breathlessly. "Stop. "
"Why?"
"Last time we did this I ended up talking to your bloody lawyer. " She moved away from him. "I'm not as innocent as I used to be. "
"It will be different this time," he said, panting. "I was a fool to let you go. I see that now. I was young, too. "
To help her calm down she looked into the rooms. They were full of dowdy old furniture. "Whose house is this?" she said.
"Yours," he replied. "If you want it. "
She stared at him. What did he mean?
"You could live here with the baby," he explained. "It was occupied for years by an old lady who used to be my father's housekeeper. She died a few months ago. You could redecorate it and buy new furniture. "
"Live here?" she said. "As what?"
He could not quite bring himself to say it.
"As your mistress?" she said.
