Fall of Giants

“We need more information.”

“Billy will write to me soon. He’ll give me the details.”

Ethel felt indignant about the government’s secret war-if that was what it was-but she was in an agony of worry about Billy. He would not keep his mouth shut. If he thought the army was doing wrong he would say so, and might get into trouble.

The Calvary Gospel Hall was full: the Labour Party had gained popularity during the war. This was partly because the Labour leader, Arthur Henderson, had been in Lloyd George’s War Cabinet. Henderson had started work in a locomotive factory at the age of twelve, and his performance as a cabinet minister had killed off the Conservative argument that workers could not be trusted in government.

Ethel and Bernie sat next to Jock Reid, a red-faced Glaswegian who had been Bernie’s best friend when he was single. The chairman of the meeting was Dr. Greenward. The main item on the agenda was the next general election. There were rumors that Lloyd George would call a national election as soon as the war ended. Aldgate needed a Labour candidate, and Bernie was the front runner.

He was proposed and seconded. Someone suggested Dr. Greenward as an alternative, but the doctor said he felt he should stick to medicine.

Then Jayne McCulley stood up. She had been a party member ever since Ethel and Maud had protested against the withdrawal of her separation allowance, and Maud had been carried off to jail in the arms of a policeman. Now Jayne said: “I read in the paper that women can stand in the next election, and I propose that Ethel Williams should be our candidate.”

There was a moment of stunned silence, then everyone tried to speak at the same time.

Ethel was taken aback. She had not thought about this. Ever since she had known Bernie, he had wanted to be the local M.P. She had accepted that. Besides, it had never been possible for women to be elected. She was not sure it was possible now. Her first inclination was to refuse immediately.

Jayne had not finished. She was a pretty young woman, but the softness of her appearance was deceptive, and she could be formidable. “I respect Bernie, but he is an organizer and a meetings man,” she said. “Aldgate has a Liberal M.P. who is quite well-liked and may be hard to defeat. We need a candidate who can win this seat for Labour, someone who can say to the people of the East End: ‘Follow me to victory!’ and they will. We need Ethel.”

All the women cheered, and so did some of the men, though others muttered darkly. Ethel realized she would have a lot of support if she ran.

And Jayne was right: Bernie was probably the cleverest man in the room, but he was not an inspirational leader. He could explain how revolutions happened and why companies went bust, but Ethel could inspire people to join a crusade.

Jock Reid stood up. “Comrade Chairman, I believe the legislation does not permit women to stand.”

Dr. Greenward said: “I can answer that question. The law that was passed earlier this year, giving the vote to certain women over thirty, did not provide for women to stand for election. But the government has admitted that this is an anomaly, and a further bill has been drafted.”

Jock persisted. “But the law as it stands today forbids the election of women, so we can’t nominate one.” Ethel gave a wry smile: it was odd how men who called for world revolution could insist on following the letter of the law.

Dr. Greenward said: “The Parliament (Qualification of Women) Bill is clearly intended to become law before the next general election, so it seems perfectly in order for this branch to nominate a woman.”

“But Ethel is under thirty.”

“Apparently this new bill applies to women over twenty-one.”

“Apparently?” said Jock. “How can we nominate a candidate if we don’t know the rules?”

Dr. Greenward said: “Perhaps we should postpone nomination until the new legislation has been passed.”

Bernie whispered something in Jock’s ear, and Jock said: “Let’s ask Ethel if she’s willing to stand. If not, then there’s no need to postpone the decision.”

Bernie turned to Ethel with a confident smile.

“All right,” said Dr. Greenward. “Ethel, if you were nominated, would you accept?”

Everyone looked at her.

Ethel hesitated.

This was Bernie’s dream, and Bernie was her husband. But which of them would be the better choice for Labour?

As the seconds passed, a look of incredulity came over Bernie’s face. He had expected her to decline the nomination instantly.

That hardened her resolve.

“I… I’ve never considered it,” she said. “And, um, as the chairman said, it’s not even a legal possibility yet. So it’s a hard question to answer. I believe Bernie would be a good candidate… but all the same I’d like time to think about it. So perhaps we should accept the chairman’s suggestion of a postponement.”

She turned to Bernie.

He looked as if he could kill her.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE – November 11, 1918

At two o’clock in the morning, the phone rang at Fitz’s house in Mayfair.