adult life he found it difficult to know what to put in its place. So he grew tongue-tied. Now she was whispering in his ear, smelling fresh, not like a tart, with her fingers brushing the back of his hand.
“ARP?” she whispered again.
“Um, Air-Raid Precautions,” he explained. “You know, ducking bombs.”
“Horrid!” Her fingers remained briefly on the back of his hand. “I've only just arrived in London, to be a sort of assistant to Uncle Joe, and already they're threatening to destroy it.”
“I hope you'll allow me to show you around. I know all the best air-raid shelters.” It was a clumsy and unintended joke, reflecting his unease, but she laughed it off.
From the end of the table, her uncle finished off his apple pie and slice of American cheese, and decided it was time for the after-dinner entertainment. He had wanted to invite the German Ambassador, Dirksen, but he was engaged elsewhere, so had had to make do with his Spanish Fascist counterpart, the Duke of Alba, instead.
“Tell me, Duke, some people argue democracy's finished in Europe. What do you think?”
Instantly Churchill's head came up. “Finished?” he growled, cutting across the Spaniard.
Kennedy was already in his shirtsleeves; now he slipped off his braces. Time for a scrap. “What I mean is, the Brits and the French tried it after the last war, imposing democracy all across Europe, but look around you. It's been shot to hell—or disappeared completely. Germany, Italy, Spain, Austria—now Czechoslovakia. It never even got started in Russia. And what's left is so pathetically weak.”
“Is that the language of the New Diplomacy?”
“Come on, you've been saying yourself you should've picked Hitler's pecker years ago.”
“Democracy is like a great play. It lasts more than one act. You must be patient, Mr. Ambassador.”
“You mean, like those ARP guys still waiting for their helmets?”
A cheap debating point, or an intended slur? Churchill ignored it.
Kennedy prodded again. “But democracy can be a hard mistress, too, you know that, Winston, as well as anyone. And the Germans elected Herr Hitler. You can't dismiss that fact.”
“At which point he promptly dispensed with elections.”
“He's offered a referendum in the Sudetenland.”
“Hah! A referendum simply to confirm that which has already been resolved. Thrust upon the poor Czechs. A peculiarly twisted notion of democracy.”
“But I think you're forgetting, Winston. British politicians like you and Mr. Chamberlain got elected with a few thousand votes. Hitler got elected with millions. Makes Herr Hitler more legit than you, don't it?”
“Power is not seized through the ballot box, Mr. Ambassador, it is shared. It comes from the people. It is a remarkably infested form of democracy which takes that power in order to enslave its own people.”
“Aw, come on. You telling me it's slavery? Slavery don't get millions of people out on the streets waving banners andtorches to give thanks that their country's no longer starving. German governments used to be chaotic, criminally incompetent. You might have called that democracy, Winston, but to the Germans it was a dung heap. They were dying in the gutter. So Hitler's replaced the bread lines with armies of workers building autobahns. Where the devil's the harm in all that?”
“One day, in a very few years, perhaps in a few months, we shall be confronted with demands that we should become part of a German-dominated Europe. There will be some who will say that would be efficient. Others already say it is… inevitable —a word I do not care for, one that has no place in the dictionaries of a democracy. They argue it will make us all the stronger, that we cannot remain an off-shore satellite of a strong and growing Europe. We shall be invited to surrender a little of our independence and liberty in order that we may enjoy the benefits of this stronger Europe. In a word, we shall be required to submit
“ARP?” she whispered again.
“Um, Air-Raid Precautions,” he explained. “You know, ducking bombs.”
“Horrid!” Her fingers remained briefly on the back of his hand. “I've only just arrived in London, to be a sort of assistant to Uncle Joe, and already they're threatening to destroy it.”
“I hope you'll allow me to show you around. I know all the best air-raid shelters.” It was a clumsy and unintended joke, reflecting his unease, but she laughed it off.
From the end of the table, her uncle finished off his apple pie and slice of American cheese, and decided it was time for the after-dinner entertainment. He had wanted to invite the German Ambassador, Dirksen, but he was engaged elsewhere, so had had to make do with his Spanish Fascist counterpart, the Duke of Alba, instead.
“Tell me, Duke, some people argue democracy's finished in Europe. What do you think?”
Instantly Churchill's head came up. “Finished?” he growled, cutting across the Spaniard.
Kennedy was already in his shirtsleeves; now he slipped off his braces. Time for a scrap. “What I mean is, the Brits and the French tried it after the last war, imposing democracy all across Europe, but look around you. It's been shot to hell—or disappeared completely. Germany, Italy, Spain, Austria—now Czechoslovakia. It never even got started in Russia. And what's left is so pathetically weak.”
“Is that the language of the New Diplomacy?”
“Come on, you've been saying yourself you should've picked Hitler's pecker years ago.”
“Democracy is like a great play. It lasts more than one act. You must be patient, Mr. Ambassador.”
“You mean, like those ARP guys still waiting for their helmets?”
A cheap debating point, or an intended slur? Churchill ignored it.
Kennedy prodded again. “But democracy can be a hard mistress, too, you know that, Winston, as well as anyone. And the Germans elected Herr Hitler. You can't dismiss that fact.”
“At which point he promptly dispensed with elections.”
“He's offered a referendum in the Sudetenland.”
“Hah! A referendum simply to confirm that which has already been resolved. Thrust upon the poor Czechs. A peculiarly twisted notion of democracy.”
“But I think you're forgetting, Winston. British politicians like you and Mr. Chamberlain got elected with a few thousand votes. Hitler got elected with millions. Makes Herr Hitler more legit than you, don't it?”
“Power is not seized through the ballot box, Mr. Ambassador, it is shared. It comes from the people. It is a remarkably infested form of democracy which takes that power in order to enslave its own people.”
“Aw, come on. You telling me it's slavery? Slavery don't get millions of people out on the streets waving banners andtorches to give thanks that their country's no longer starving. German governments used to be chaotic, criminally incompetent. You might have called that democracy, Winston, but to the Germans it was a dung heap. They were dying in the gutter. So Hitler's replaced the bread lines with armies of workers building autobahns. Where the devil's the harm in all that?”
“One day, in a very few years, perhaps in a few months, we shall be confronted with demands that we should become part of a German-dominated Europe. There will be some who will say that would be efficient. Others already say it is… inevitable —a word I do not care for, one that has no place in the dictionaries of a democracy. They argue it will make us all the stronger, that we cannot remain an off-shore satellite of a strong and growing Europe. We shall be invited to surrender a little of our independence and liberty in order that we may enjoy the benefits of this stronger Europe. In a word, we shall be required to submit
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