Winter of the World

‘The Soviet Union has made a pact with Germany!’ she said.

That made no sense. ‘You mean with Britain and France, against Germany.’

‘No, I don’t! That’s the surprise – Stalin and Hitler have made friends.’

‘But . . .’ Volodya tailed off, baffled. Friends with Hitler? It seemed crazy. Was this the solution devised by the new Soviet foreign minister, Molotov? We have failed to stop the tide of world Fascism – so we give up trying? Did my father fight a revolution for that?

(iii)

Woody Dewar saw Joanne Rouzrokh again after four years.

No one who knew her father actually believed he had tried to rape a starlet in the Ritz-Carlton Hotel. The girl had dropped the charges; but that was dull news, and the papers had given it little prominence. Consequently, Dave was still a rapist in the eyes of Buffalo people. So Joanne’s parents moved to Palm Beach and Woody lost touch.

Next time he saw her it was in the White House.

Woody was with his father, Senator Gus Dewar, and they were going to see the President. Woody had met Franklin D. Roosevelt several times. His father and the President had been friends for many years. But those had been social occasions, when FDR had shaken Woody’s hand and asked him how he was getting along at school. This would be the first time Woody attended a real political meeting with the President.

They went in through the main entrance of the West Wing, passed through the entrance lobby, and stepped into a large waiting room; and there she was.

Woody stared at her in delight. She had hardly changed. With her narrow, haughty face and curved nose she still looked like the high priestess of an ancient religion. As ever, she wore simple clothes to dramatic effect: today she had on a dark-blue suit of some cool fabric and a straw hat the same colour with a big brim. Woody was glad he had put on a clean white shirt and his new striped tie this morning.

She seemed pleased to see him. ‘You look great!’ she said. ‘Are you working in DC now?’

‘Just helping out in my father’s office for the summer,’ he replied. ‘I’m still at Harvard.’

She turned to his father and said deferentially: ‘Good afternoon, Senator.’

‘Hello, Joanne.’

Woody was thrilled to run into her. She was as alluring as ever. He wanted to keep the conversation going. ‘What are you doing here?’ Woody said.

‘I work at the State Department.’

Woody nodded. That explained her deference to his father. She had joined a world in which people kowtowed to Senator Dewar. Woody said: ‘What’s your job?’

‘I’m assistant to an assistant. My boss is with the President now, but I’m too lowly to go in with him.’

‘You were always interested in politics. I recall an argument about lynching.’

‘I miss Buffalo. What fun we used to have!’

Woody remembered kissing her at the Racquet Club Ball, and he felt himself blush.

His father said: ‘Please give my best regards to your father,’ indicating that they needed to move on.

Woody considered asking for her phone number, but she pre-empted him. ‘I’d love to see you again, Woody,’ she said.

He was delighted. ‘Sure!’

‘Are you free tonight? I’m having a few friends for cocktails.’

‘Sounds great!’

She gave him the address, an apartment building not far away, then his father hurried him out of the other end of the room.

A guard nodded familiarly to Gus, and they stepped into another waiting room.

Gus said: ‘Now, Woody, don’t say anything unless the President addresses you directly.’

Woody tried to concentrate on the imminent meeting. There had been a political earthquake in Europe: the Soviet Union had signed a peace pact with Nazi Germany, upsetting everyone’s calculations. Woody’s father was a key member of the Senate Foreign Relations Committee, and the President wanted to know what he thought.

Gus Dewar had another subject to discuss. He wanted to persuade Roosevelt to revive the League of Nations.

It would be a tough sell. The USA had never joined the League and Americans did not much like it. The League had failed dismally to deal with the crises of the 1930s: Japanese aggression in the Far East, Italian imperialism in Africa, Nazi takeovers in Europe, the ruin of democracy in Spain. But Gus was determined to try. It had always been his dream, Woody knew: a world council to resolve conflicts and prevent war.

Woody was 100 per cent behind him. He had made a speech about this in a Harvard debate. When two nations had a quarrel, the worst possible procedure was for men to kill people on the other side. That seemed to him pretty obvious. ‘I understand why it happens, of course,’ he had said in the debate. ‘Just like I understand why drunks get into fistfights. But that doesn’t make it any less irrational.’