Eton. Maud spoke about house parties at Ty Gwyn when her father was alive. The most powerful men in the land were guests, and her mother would have to arrange the allocation of bedrooms so that men could be near their mistresses.
At first, Maud found herself consciously making conversation, as if they were two people who hardly knew one another; but soon they relaxed into their normal intimacy, and she just said whatever came into her mind. The waiter cleared away the supper and they moved to the couch, where they continued to talk, holding hands. They speculated about other people’s sex lives: their parents, Fitz, Robert, Ethel, even the duchess. Maud was fascinated to learn about men such as Robert: where they met, how they recognized one another, and what they did. They kissed each other just as men kissed women, Walter told her, and they did what she had done to him at the opera, and other things… He said he was not sure of the details, but she thought he did know and just felt embarrassed to say.
She was surprised when the clock on the mantelpiece struck midnight. “Let’s go to bed,” she said. “I want to lie in your arms, even if things don’t happen the way they’re supposed to.”
“All right.” He stood up. “Do you mind if I do something first? There is a telephone in the lobby for the use of guests. I’d like to phone the embassy.”
“Of course.”
He went out. Maud went to the bathroom along the corridor, then returned to the suite. She took off her clothes and got into bed naked. She almost felt she did not care what happened now. They loved one another, and they were together, and if that was all it would be enough.
Walter returned a few minutes later. His face was grim and she knew immediately that the news was bad. “Britain has declared war on Germany,” he said.
“Oh, Walter, I’m so sorry!”
“The note was received at the embassy an hour ago. Young Nicolson brought it round from the Foreign Office and got Prince Lichnowsky out of bed.”
They had known it was almost certain to happen, but even so the reality struck Maud like a blow. She could see that Walter was upset too.
He took off his clothes automatically, as if he had been undressing in front of her for years. “We leave tomorrow,” he said. He took off his underpants, and she saw that his penis in its normal state was small and wrinkled. “I must be at Liverpool Street station, with my bags packed, by ten o’clock.” He turned off the electric light and got into bed with her.
They lay side by side, not touching, and for an awful moment Maud thought he was going to go to sleep like that; then he turned to her and took her in his arms and kissed her mouth. Despite everything she was flooded with desire for him; indeed, it was almost as if their troubles had made her love him more urgently and desperately. She felt his penis grow and harden against her soft belly. After a moment he got on top of her. As before, he leaned on his left arm and touched her with his right hand. As before, she felt the hard penis pressing her lips. As before, it hurt-but only for a moment. This time, it slipped inside her.
There was another moment of resistance, then she lost her virginity; and suddenly he was all the way in and they were locked together in the oldest embrace of all.
“Oh, thank heaven,” she said; then relief gave way to delight, and she began to move in happy rhythm with him; and, at last, they made love.
PART TWO. THE WAR of GIANTS
CHAPTER TWELVE – Early to Late August 1914
Katerina was distraught. When the mobilization posters went up all over St. Petersburg she sat in Grigori’s room at the boardinghouse weeping, running her fingers distractedly through her long fair hair, and saying: “What am I going to do? What am I going to do?”
It made him long to take her in his arms and kiss her tears away and promise never to leave her side. But he could not make such a promise and anyway, she loved his brother.
Grigori had done his military service and was therefore a reservist, theoretically ready for battle. In fact most of his training had consisted of marching and building roads. Nevertheless he expected to be among the first summoned.
It made him fume with rage. The war was as stupid and pointless as everything else Tsar Nicholas did. There had been a murder in Bosnia, and a month later Russia was at war with Germany! Thousands of working-class men and peasants would be killed on both sides, and nothing would be achieved. It proved, to Grigori and everyone he knew, that the Russian nobility were too stupid to govern.
Even if he survived, the war would ruin his plans. He was saving for another ticket to America. With his wages from the Putilov factory he might do it in two or three years, but on army pay it would take forever. How many more years must he suffer the injustice and brutality of tsarist rule?
He was even more worried about Katerina. What would she do if he had to go to war? She was sharing a room with three other girls at the boardinghouse, and working at the Putilov factory, packing rifle cartridges into cardboard boxes. But she would have to stop work when the baby was born, at least for a while. Without Grigori, how would she support herself and the child? She would be desperate, and he knew what country girls did in St. Petersburg when they were desperate for money. God forbid that she should sell her body on the streets.
However, he was not called up on the first day, or the first week. According to the newspapers, two and a half million reservists had been mobilized on the last day of July, but that was just a story. It was impossible for so many men to be marshaled, issued with uniforms, and put on trains to the front all in one day, or indeed one month. They were called in groups, some sooner, some later.
As the first hot days of August went by, Grigori began to think he might have been left out. It was a tantalizing possibility. The army was one of the worst-managed institutions in a hopelessly disorganized country, and there would probably be thousands of men who were overlooked through sheer incompetence.
Katerina had got into the habit of coming to his room early every morning, while he was making breakfast. It was the highlight of his day. He was always washed and dressed by then, but she appeared wearing the shift she slept in, her hair bewitchingly tousled, yawning. The garment was too small for her, now that she was putting on weight. He calculated that she must be four and a half months pregnant. Her breasts and hips were larger, and there was a small but noticeable bulge in her belly. Her voluptuousness was a delightful torture. Grigori tried not to stare at her body.
One morning she came in while he was scrambling two hen’s eggs in a pan over the fire. He no longer made do with porridge for breakfast: his brother’s unborn child needed good food to grow strong and healthy. Most days Grigori had something nourishing to share with Katerina: ham, or herrings, or her favorite, sausage.
Katerina was always hungry. She sat at the table, cut a thick slice of black bread from the loaf, and began to eat, too impatient to wait. With her mouth full she said: “When a soldier is killed, who gets his back pay?”
Grigori recalled giving the name and address of his next of kin. “In my case, Lev,” he said.
“I wonder if he’s in America yet.”
“He must be. It doesn’t take eight weeks to get there.”
“I hope he’s found a job.”
“You don’t need to worry. He’ll be all right. Everyone likes him.” Grigori suffered a pang of angry resentment at his brother. It should have been Lev here in Russia looking after Katerina and her unborn baby, and worrying about the draft, while Grigori started the new life he had saved and planned for. But Lev had snatched that opportunity. And still Katerina fretted about the man who had abandoned her, not the one who had stayed.
She said: “I’m sure he’s doing well in America, but still I wish we’d had a letter from him.”
Grigori shaved a heel of hard cheese over the eggs and added salt. He wondered sadly whether they would ever hear from America. Lev had never been sentimental, and he might have decided to shuck off his past, like a
