The men laughed, and Uncle Billy said: ‘Caught out, boyo!’
Lloyd’s mother had obviously been talking. ‘Ruby is membership officer of my local Labour Party in Cambridge, that’s all,’ Lloyd protested.
Billy said sarcastically: ‘Oh, aye, very convincing’, and the men laughed again.
‘You wouldn’t want me to go out with Ruby, Grandmam,’ Lloyd said. ‘You’d think she wears her clothes too tight.’
‘She doesn’t sound very suitable,’ Cara said. ‘You’re a university man, now. You must set your sights higher.’
She was just as snobbish as Daisy, Lloyd perceived. ‘There’s nothing wrong with Ruby Carter,’ he said. ‘But I’m not in love with her.’
‘You must marry an educated woman, a schoolteacher or a trained nurse.’
The trouble was that she was right. Lloyd liked Ruby, but he would never love her. She was pretty enough, and intelligent, too, and Lloyd was as vulnerable as the next man to a curvy figure, but still he knew she was not right for him. Worse, Grandmam had put her wrinkled old finger precisely on the reason: Ruby’s outlook was restricted, her horizons narrow. She was not exciting. Not like Daisy.
‘That’s enough women’s chatter,’ Granda said. ‘Billy, tell us the news from Spain.’
‘It’s bad,’ said Billy.
All Europe was watching Spain. The left-wing government elected last February had suffered an attempted military coup backed by Fascists and conservatives. The rebel general, Franco, had won support from the Catholic Church. The news had struck the rest of the continent like an earthquake. After Germany and Italy, would Spain, too, fall under the curse of Fascism?
‘The revolt was botched, as you probably know, and it almost failed,’ Billy went on. ‘But Hitler and Mussolini came to the rescue, and saved the insurrection by airlifting thousands of rebel troops from north Africa as reinforcements.’
Lenny put in: ‘And the unions saved the government!’
‘That’s true,’ Billy said. ‘The government was slow to react, but the trade unions led the way in organizing workers and arming them with weapons they had seized from military arsenals, ships, gun shops, and anywhere else they could find them.’
Granda said: ‘At least someone is fighting back. Until now the Fascists have had it all their own way. In the Rhineland and Abyssinia, they just walked in and took what they wanted. Thank God for the Spanish people, I say. They’ve got the guts to say no.’
There was a murmur of agreement from the men around the walls.
Lloyd again recalled that Saturday afternoon in Cambridge. He, too, had let the Fascists have it all their own way. He seethed with frustration.
‘But can they win?’ said Granda. ‘Weapons seem to be the issue now, isn’t it?’
‘Aye,’ said Billy. ‘The Germans and the Italians are supplying the rebels with guns and ammunition, as well as fighter planes and pilots. But no one is helping the elected Spanish government.’
‘And why the bloody hell not?’ said Lenny angrily.
Cara looked up from the cooking range. Her dark Mediterranean eyes flashed disapproval, and Lloyd thought he glimpsed the beautiful girl she had once been. ‘None of that language in my kitchen!’ she said.
‘Sorry, Mrs Williams.’
‘I can tell you the inside story,’ Billy said, and the men went quiet, listening. ‘The French Prime Minister, Leon Blum – a socialist, as you know – was all set to help. He’s already got one Fascist neighbour, Germany, and the last thing he wants is a Fascist regime on his southern border too. Sending arms to the Spanish government would enrage the French right wing, and French Catholic socialists too, but Blum could withstand that, especially if he had British support and could say that arming the government was an international initiative.’
Granda said: ‘So what went wrong?’
‘Our government talked him out of it. Blum came to London and our Foreign Secretary, Anthony Eden, told him we would not support him.’
Granda was angered. ‘Why does he need support? How can a socialist prime minister let himself be bullied by the conservative government of another country?’
‘Because there’s a danger of a military coup in France, too,’ said Billy. ‘The press there is rabidly right wing, and they’re whipping their own Fascists into a frenzy. Blum can fight them off with British support – but perhaps not without.’
‘So it’s our Conservative government being soft on Fascism again!’
‘All those Tories have investments in Spain – wine, textiles, coal, steel – and they’re afraid the left-wing government will expropriate them.’
‘What about America? They believe in democracy. Surely they’ll sell guns to Spain?’
‘You’d think so, wouldn’t you? But there’s a well-financed Catholic lobby, led by a millionaire called Joseph Kennedy, opposing any help to the Spanish government. And a Democratic president needs Catholic support. Roosevelt won’t do anything to jeopardize his New Deal.’
‘Well, there’s something we can do,’ said Lenny Griffiths, and a look of adolescent defiance came over his
