been unable to do – though that was more Lev’s fault than Olga’s. Ethel was a remarkable woman, and Lloyd had many of her qualities.
Where was he now, and what was he doing? Whatever the answer, he was sure to be in danger. Would he be killed now, when at last she was free to love him without restraint and, eventually, to marry him? What would she do if he died? Her own life would be at an end, she felt: no husband, no lover, no friends, no country. In the early hours of the morning she cried herself to sleep.
Next day she slept late. At midday she was drinking coffee in her little dining room, dressed in a black silk wrap, when her fifteen-year-old maid came in and said: ‘Major Williams is here, my lady.’
‘What?’ she screeched. ‘He can’t be!’
Then he came through the door with his kitbag over his shoulder.
He looked tired and had several days’ growth of beard, and he had evidently slept in his uniform.
She threw her arms around him and kissed his bristly face. He kissed her back, inhibited somewhat by being unable to stop grinning. ‘I must stink,’ he said between kisses. ‘I haven’t changed my clothes for a week.’
‘You smell like a cheese factory,’ she said. ‘I love it.’ She pulled him into her bedroom and started to take his clothes off.
‘I’ll take a quick shower,’ he said.
‘No,’ she said. She pushed him back on the bed. ‘I’m in too much of a hurry.’ Her longing for him was frantic. And the truth was that she relished the strong smell. It should have repelled her, but it had the opposite effect. It was him, the man she had thought might be dead, and he was filling her nostrils and her lungs. She could have wept with joy.
Taking off his trousers would require removing his boots, and she could see that would be complicated, so she did not bother. She just unbuttoned his fly. She threw off her black silk robe and hiked her nightdress up to her waist, all the time staring with happy lust at the white penis sticking up out of the rough khaki cloth. Then she straddled him, easing herself down, and leaned forward and kissed him. ‘Oh, God,’ she said. ‘I can’t tell you how much I’ve been longing for you.’
She lay on him, not moving much, kissing him again and again. He held her face in his hands and stared at her. ‘This is real, isn’t it?’ he said. ‘Not just another happy dream?’
‘It’s real,’ she said.
‘Good. I wouldn’t like to wake up now.’
‘I want to stay like this for ever.’
‘Nice idea, but I can’t keep still much longer.’ He began to move under her.
‘If you do that I’ll come,’ she said.
And she did.
Afterwards they lay on her bed for a long time, talking.
He had two weeks’ leave. ‘Live here,’ she said. ‘You can visit your parents every day, but I want you at night.’
‘I wouldn’t like you to get a bad reputation.’
‘That ship has sailed. I’ve already been shunned by London society.’
‘I know.’ He had telephoned Ethel from Waterloo Station, and she had told him about Daisy’s separation from Boy and given him the address of the flat.
‘We must do something about contraception,’ he said. ‘I’ll get some rubber johnnies. But you might want to get fixed up with a device. What do you think?’
‘You want to make sure I don’t get pregnant?’ she said.
There was a note of sadness in her voice, she realized; and he heard it. ‘Don’t get me wrong,’ he said. He raised himself on his elbow. ‘I’m illegitimate. I was told lies about my parentage, and when I found out the truth it was a terrible shock.’ His voice shook a little with emotion. ‘I’ll never put my children through that. Never.’
‘We wouldn’t have to lie to them.’
‘Would we tell them that we’re not married? That in fact you’re married to someone else?’
‘I don’t see why not.’
‘Think how they would be teased at school.’
She was not convinced, but clearly the issue was a profound one for him. ‘So, what’s your plan?’ she said.
‘I want us to have children. But not until we’re married. To each other.’
‘I get that,’ she said. ‘So . . .’
‘We have to wait.’
Men were slow to pick up hints. ‘I’m not much of a girl for tradition,’ she said. ‘But, still, there are some things . . .’
At last he saw what she was getting at. ‘Oh! Okay. Just a minute.’ He knelt upright on the bed. ‘Daisy, dear —’
