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“They may not be worthy, at first,” one of the women said. “But they will see the sense of it.”
“At least the ordinary people will,” another agreed. “The Führer will accom
plish it, you’ll see.”
“You think so?”
“Oh, there are things ahead we can’t imagine,” the first woman replied. “This is going to be a great country again. It’s our destiny.”
Margot opened her mouth to say something, and then changed her mind. She had spoken only German, and no doubt they took her for one of them. It would be a disservice to Cecily to stand out in their company in anything other than glamour.
“You make it seem inevitable,” one of the women said.
“It is,” her companion replied. “The question is only how long—and, of course, who will prove to be brave and loyal, and who might not. There will be sacrifices…”
“There always are, for anything worthwhile.”
“Loyalty does not come cheap,” another woman agreed, her voice trembling for a moment.
Margot wondered who she had lost in the war, its ashes of ruin still warm.
They went on talking. Were they comforting themselves with delusions?
Margot drifted from one group to another, stopping longer with some. She found herself lectured to enthusiastically on the hopeful and positive things that were on the brink of realization in Germany. These hopes for the future, not only of the people gathered here, but of the whole country—indeed, of all Europe—were part of the optimistic air of a wedding. If there were dark undertones, Margot tried to ignore them, put them down to the ambitions of young men, perhaps a little drunk from the very excellent wine. All German, no French champagne here.
A little while later, she found Cecily again. She looked flushed and excited. Margot was happy for her. Her own wedding had been nothing like this but all memories of Paul were happy, filled with hope of good things. There had been no greed, no desire to dominate, only to build a life for themselves and others, to heal and do it without hate or blame.
She would not have changed places with Cecily and have to spend tonight, and all the nights after it, with Hans, with his ambition, his hunger, the fear she thought she glimpsed in his eyes just for an instant. Everyone in this crowded room expected so much of him. They were here to rejoice, but so many of them were also here to keep him on the narrow road to success, especially in the favor of Hitler.
Did Cecily see that?
“I wish you happiness,” Margot said with intense feeling, although she touched Cecily’s arm only lightly.
Cecily gulped. “I know you do.” She blinked rapidly. “In spite of the fact that you don’t like him.”
“Cecily…”
“Don’t,” Cecily said quickly. “I know what you’re going to say. You are not as hard to read as you think. Be careful, Margot. This is not a time for selfishness. We have to think of our families.” She gave a dazzling smile to a senior officer passing by, and he acknowledged it warmly. Her smile vanished as she turned toward Margot again. “Don’t say anything to my mother, or I’ll not forgive you…not ever. Father knows some things more than I do, other things less, but we don’t speak of it.”
“Did you have to marry Hans?” The instant the words were out of her mouth, Margot regretted them, but it was too late. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “That was cruel and none of my business.”
Cecily met her eyes. “I love my parents very much. My mother has invested everything in me, all my life. It’s time to give her something back. The illusion of safety, at least. Maybe the reality. If you question my choice of Hans, you’ll break that. You won’t do that to me.”
“No,” Margot said vehemently. “Of course I won’t.”
Anything further was interrupted by Hans joining them and putting his arm around Cecily protectively. His eyes met Margot’s with a candid smile, as if for an instant they really knew each other. “It was so generous of you to come all this way to wish Cecily well, Mrs. Driscoll. It was a kindness we shall not forget. Now, if you will excuse us, I have some very important people eager to meet Cecily.” And without waiting for an answer, he moved away. Cecily went with him, close to his side, and she did not look back.
Margot stood stunned. Suddenly, the nightmare was so much clearer, and it made hideous sense. She had no idea how long she stood motionless. Other people swirled past her, full of chatter, laughter getting louder as the wine bottles emptied. Perhaps everybody had their own memories of weddings, theirs or somebody else’s. The beginning or the end of happiness. Change, always change.
“We’ll miss her,” Winifred said from beside Margot. “But it’s important.”
Margot was startled. “What is?”
“Peace,” Winifred said so quietly even the nearest group of people to them could not have heard. “It doesn’t happen by itself, just because you’ve stopped shooting each other at some borderline. We have to forge links that both sides believe in. We have to forget what we lost and start thinking of what we can still keep and build on. You might have to swallow your words sometimes. Roger is good at that, and he’s taught me how to do it. Cecily will…” She stopped, unable to say the words.
“She’ll make a better man of him than he would be without her,” Margot filled in quietly. She had no idea whether she meant to say these words or not, but something like that needed to be said.
Winifred gave Margot’s arm a little squeeze, then disappeared into the crowd to speak to someone else she knew.
