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He was openly living with her at the flat. She did not care what people thought: her reputation in respectable circles was already so bad that no further damage could be done. Anyway, the urgency of wartime love had driven many people to break the rules in similar ways. Domestic staff could sometimes be as rigid as duchesses about such things, but all Daisy's employees adored her, so she and Lloyd did not even pretend to be occupying separate bedrooms.
She loved sleeping with him. He was not as experienced as Boy, but he made up for that in enthusiasm--and he was eager to learn. Every night was a voyage of exploration in a double bed.
As they looked at their guests talking and laughing, drinking and smoking, dancing and smooching, Lloyd smiled at her and said: "Happy?"
"Almost," she said.
"Almost?"
She sighed. "I want to have children, Lloyd. I don't care that we're not married. Well, I do care, of course, but I still want a baby."
His face darkened. "You know how I feel about illegitimacy."
"Yes, you explained it to me. But I want some part of
you to cherish if you die."
"I'll do my best to stay alive."
"I know." But if her suspicion was correct, and he was working undercover in occupied territory, he could be executed, as German spies were executed in Britain. He would be gone, and she would have nothing left. "It's the same for a million women, I realize that, but I can't face the thought of life without you. I think I'll die."
"If I could make Boy divorce you I would."
"Well, this is no kind of talk for a party." She looked across the room. "What do you know? I believe that's Woody Dewar!"
Woody was wearing a lieutenant's uniform. She went over and greeted him. It was strange to see him again after nine years--though he did not look much different, just older.
"There are thousands of American soldiers here now," Daisy said as they foxtrotted to "Pennsylvania Six-Five Thousand." "We must be about to invade France. What else?"
"The top brass certainly don't share their plans with greenhorn lieutenants," Woody said. "But like you I can't think of any other reason why I'm here. We can't leave the Russians to bear the brunt of the fighting much longer."
"When do you think it will happen?"
"Offensives always begin in the summer. Late May or early June is everyone's best guess."
"That soon!"
"But no one knows where."
"Dover-to-Calais is the shortest sea crossing," Daisy said.
"And for that reason the German defenses are concentrated around Calais. So maybe we'll try to surprise them--say, by landing on the south coast, near Marseilles."
"Perhaps then it will be over at last."
"I doubt it. Once we have a bridgehead, we still have to conquer France, then Germany. There's a long road ahead."
"Oh, dear." Woody seemed to need cheering up. And Daisy knew just the girl to do it. Isabel Hernandez was a Rhodes scholar doing a master's in history at St. Hilda's College, Oxford. She was gorgeous, but the boys called her a ball-buster because she was so fiercely intellectual. However, Woody would be oblivious to that. "Come over here," she called to Isabel. "Woody, this is my friend Bella. She's from San Francisco. Bella, meet Woody Dewar from Buffalo."
They shook hands. Bella was tall, with thick dark hair and olive skin just like Joanne Rouzrokh's. Woody smiled at her and said: "What are you doing here in London?" Daisy left them.
She served supper at midnight. When she could get American supplies it was ham and eggs; otherwise, cheese sandwiches. It provided a lull when people could talk, a bit like the intermission at the theater. She noticed that Woody Dewar was still with Bella Hernandez, and they seemed to be deep in conversation. She made sure everyone had what they needed, then sat in a corner with Lloyd.
"I've decided what I'd like to do after the war, if I'm still alive," he said. "As well as marry you, that is."
"What?"
"I'm going to try for Parliament."
