Fall of giants book one of the century trilogy

Table of Contents Title Page Copyright Page Dedication PROLOGUE - INITIATION CHAPTER ONE - June 22, 1911 PART ONE - THE DARKENING SKY CHAPTER TWO - January 1914 CHAPTER THREE - February 1914 CHAPTER FOUR - March 1914 CHAPTER FIVE - April 1914 CHAPTER SIX - June 1914 CHAPTER SEVEN - Early July 1914 CHAPTER EIGHT - Mid-July 1914 CHAPTER NINE - Late July 1914 CHAPTER TEN - August 1-3, 1914 CHAPTER ELEVEN - August 4, 1914 PART TWO - THE WAR of GIANTS CHAPTER TWELVE - Early to Late August 1914 CHAPTER THIRTEEN - September to December 1914 CHAPTER FOURTEEN - February 1915 CHAPTER FIFTEEN - June to September1915 CHAPTER SIXTEEN - June 1916 CHAPTER SEVENTEEN - July 1, 1916 CHAPTER EIGHTEEN - Late July 1916 CHAPTER NINETEEN - July to October 1916 CHAPTER TWENTY - November to December 1916 CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE - December 1916 CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO - January and February 1917 CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE - March 1917 CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR - April 1917 CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE - May and June 1917 CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX - Mid-June 1917 CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN - June to September 1917 CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT - October and November 1917 CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE - March 1918 CHAPTER THIRTY - Late March and April 1918 CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE - May to September 1918 CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO - October 1918 CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE - November 11, 1918 PART THREE - THE WORLD MADE NEW CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR - November to December 1918 CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE - December 1918 to February 1919 CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX - March to April 1919 CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN - May and June 1919 CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT - August to October 1919 CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE - January 1920 CHAPTER FORTY - February to December 1920 CHAPTER FORTY-ONE - November 11-12, 1923 CHAPTER FORTY-TWO - December 1923 to January 1924 Historical Characters Acknowledgements Also by Ken Follett The Modigliani Scandal Paper Money Eye of the Needle Triple The Key to Rebecca The Man from St Petersburg On Wings of Eagles Lie Down with Lions The Pillars of the Earth Night over Water A Dangerous Fortune A Place Called Freedom The Third Twin The Hammer of Eden Code to Zero Jackdaws Hornet Flight Whiteout World Without End DUTTON Published by Penguin Group (USA) Inc 375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, U.S.A Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario M4P 2Y3, Canada (a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.); Penguin Books Ltd, 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England; Penguin Ireland, 25 St Stephen’s Green, Dublin 2, Ireland (a division of Penguin Books Ltd); Penguin Group (Australia), 250 Camberwell Road, Camberwell, Victoria 3124, Australia (a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty Ltd); Penguin Books India Pvt Ltd, 11 Community Centre, Panchsheel Park, New Delhi—110 017, India; Penguin Group (NZ), 67 Apollo Drive, Rosedale, North Shore 0632, New Zealand (a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd); Penguin Books (South Africa) (Pty) Ltd, 24 Sturdee Avenue, Rosebank, Johannesburg 2196, South Africa Penguin Books Ltd, Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England Published by Dutton, a member of Penguin Group (USA) Inc First printing, October 2010 Copyright © 2010 by Ken Follett All rights reserved REGISTERED TRADEMARK—MARCA REGISTRADA LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOGING-IN-PUBLICATION DATA Follett, Ken Fall of giants : book one of the century trilogy / by Ken Follett p cm.—(Century ; bk 1) eISBN : 978-1-101-44355-2 Domestic fiction I Title PR6056.O45F35 2010 823’.914—dc22 2010009279 PUBLISHER’S NOTE This book is a work of fiction Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated http://us.penguingroup.com To the memory of my parents, Martin and Veenie Follett Cast of Characters American DEWAR FAMILY Senator Cameron Dewar Ursula Dewar, his wife Gus Dewar, their son VYALOV FAMILY Josef Vyalov, businessman Lena Vyalov, his wife Olga Vyalov, their daughter OTHERS Rosa Hellman, journalist Chuck Dixon, school friend of Gus’s Marga, nightclub singer Nick Forman, thief Ilya, thug Theo, thug Norman Niall, crooked accountant Brian Hall, union leader REAL HISTORICAL CHARACTERS Woodrow Wilson, twenty-eighth president William Jennings Bryan, secretary of state Joseph Daniels, secretary of the navy English and Scottish FITZHERBERT FAMILY “Don’t argue,” Grigori said “Your office.” It was a way of emphasizing his power He needed to keep Pinsky under his thumb Pinsky led them to an upstairs room overlooking the inner courtyard He hastily swept a knuckle-duster off the desk into a drawer Looking out of the window, Grigori saw that it was daybreak “Wait outside,” he said to Pinsky They sat down and Grigori said to Konstantin: “What the hell is going on?” “We came to Moscow when the government moved,” Konstantin explained “I thought I would become a commissar But it was a mistake I have no political support here.” “So what have you been doing?” “I’ve gone back to ordinary work I’m at the Tod factory, making engine parts, cogs and pistons and ball races.” “But why the police imagine you’re counterrevolutionary?” “The factory elects a deputy to the Moscow soviet One of the engineers announced he would be a Menshevik candidate He held a meeting, and I went to listen There were only a dozen people there I didn’t speak, I left halfway through, and I didn’t vote for him The Bolshevik candidate won, of course But, after the election, everyone who attended that Menshevik meeting was fired Then, last week, we were all arrested.” “We can’t this,” Grigori said in despair “Not even in the name of the revolution We can’t arrest workers for listening to a different point of view.” Konstantin looked at him strangely “Have you been away somewhere?” “Of course,” said Grigori “Fighting the counterrevolutionary armies.” “Then that’s why you don’t know what’s going on.” “You mean this has happened before?” “Grishka, it happens every day.” “I can’t believe it.” Magda said: “And last night I received a message—from a friend who is married to a policeman—saying Konstantin and the others were all to be shot at eight o’clock this morning.” Grigori looked at his army-issue wristwatch It was almost eight “Pinsky!” he shouted The policeman came in “Stop this execution.” “I fear it is too late, comrade.” “You mean these men have already been shot?” “Not quite.” Pinsky went to the window Grigori did the same Konstantin and Magda stood beside him Down in the snow-covered courtyard, a firing squad had assembled in the clear early light Opposite the soldiers, a dozen blindfolded men stood shivering in thin indoor clothes A red flag flew above their heads As Grigori looked, the soldiers raised their rifles Grigori yelled: “Stop at once! Do not shoot!” But his voice was muffled by the window, and no one heard A moment later there was a crash of gunfire The condemned men fell to the ground Grigori stared, aghast Around the slumped bodies, bloodstains appeared on the snow, bright red to match the flag flying above CHAPTER FORTY-ONE November 11-12, 1923 Maud slept in the day and got up in the middle of the afternoon, when Walter brought the children home from Sunday school Eric was three and Heike was two, and they looked so sweet in their best clothes that Maud thought her heart would burst with love She had never known an emotion like this Even her mad passion for Walter had not been so overwhelming The children also made her feel desperately anxious Would she be able to feed them and keep them warm, and protect them from riot and revolution? She gave them hot bread-and-milk to warm them, then she began to prepare for the evening She and Walter were throwing a small family party to celebrate the thirty-eighth birthday of Walter’s cousin Robert von Ulrich Robert had not been killed in the war, contrary to Walter’s parents’ fears— or were they hopes? Either way, Walter had not become the Graf von Ulrich Robert had been held in a prisoner-of-war camp in Siberia When the Bolsheviks had made peace with Austria, Robert and his wartime comrade, Jörg, had set out to walk, hitchhike, and ride freight trains home It had taken them a year, but they had made it, and when they returned Walter had found them an apartment in Berlin Maud put on her apron In the tiny kitchen of her little house she made a soup out of cabbage, stale bread, and turnips She also baked a small cake, although she had to eke out her ingredients with more turnips She had learned to cook and much else besides A kindly neighbor, an older woman, had taken pity on the bewildered aristocrat and taught her how to make a bed, iron a shirt, and clean a bathtub It had all come as something of a shock They lived in a middle-class town house They had not been able to spend any money on it, nor could they afford the servants Maud had always been used to, and they had a lot of secondhand furniture that Maud secretly thought was dreadfully suburban They had looked forward to better times, but in fact things had got worse: Walter’s career in the foreign ministry had been dead-ended by his marriage to an Englishwoman, and he would have moved on to something else, but in the economic chaos he was lucky to have any job at all And Maud’s early dissatisfactions seemed petty now, four years of poverty later There was patched upholstery where the children had torn it, broken windows covered with cardboard, and paintwork peeling everywhere But Maud had no regrets Any time she liked she could kiss Walter, slide her tongue into his mouth, unbutton his trousers, and lie with him on the bed or the couch or even the floor, and that made up for everything else Walter’s parents came to the party bringing half a ham and two bottles of wine Otto had lost his family estate, Zumwald, which was now in Poland His savings had been reduced to nothing by inflation However, the large garden of his Berlin house produced potatoes, and he still had a lot of prewar wine “How did you manage to find ham?” Walter said incredulously Such things could normally be bought only with American dollars “I traded it for a bottle of vintage champagne,” said Otto The grandparents put the children to bed Otto told them a folktale From what Maud could hear, it was about a queen who had her brother beheaded She shuddered, but did not interfere Afterward Susanne sang lullabies in a reedy voice and the children went to sleep, apparently none the worse for their grandfather’s bloodthirsty story Robert and Jörg arrived, wearing identical red ties Otto greeted them warmly He seemed to have no idea of their relationship, apparently accepting that Jörg was simply Robert’s flatmate Indeed, that was how the men behaved when they were with older folk Maud thought that Susanne probably guessed the truth Women were harder to fool Fortunately they were more accepting Robert and Jörg could be very different in liberal company At parties in their own home they made no secret of their romantic love Many of their friends were the same Maud had been startled at first: she had never seen men kissing, admiring one another’s outfits, and flirting like schoolgirls But such behavior was no longer taboo, at least in Berlin And Maud had read Proust’s Sodome et Gomorrhe, which seemed to suggest that this kind of thing had always gone on Tonight, however, Robert and Jörg were on their best behavior Over dinner everyone talked about what was happening in Bavaria On Thursday an association of paramilitary groups called the Kampf bund had declared a national revolution in a beer hall in Munich Maud could hardly bear to read the news these days Workers went on strike, so right-wing bullyboys beat up the strikers Housewives marched to protest against the shortage of provisions, and their protests turned into food riots Everyone in Germany was angry about the Versailles Treaty, yet the Social Democratic government had accepted it in full People believed reparations were crippling the economy, even though Germany had paid only a fraction of the amount and obviously had no intention of trying to clear the total The Munich beer hall putsch had everyone worked up The war hero Erich Ludendorff was its most prominent supporter So-called storm troopers in their brown shirts and students from the Officers Infantry School had seized control of key buildings City councilors had been taken hostage and prominent Jews arrested On Friday the legitimate government had counterattacked Four policemen and sixteen paramilitaries had been killed Maud was not able to judge, from the news that had reached Berlin so far, whether the insurrection was over or not If the extremists took control of Bavaria, would the whole country fall to them? It made Walter angry “We have a democratically elected government,” he said “Why can’t people let them get on with the job?” “Our government has betrayed us,” said his father “In your opinion So what? In America, when the Republicans won the last election, the Democrats didn’t riot!” “The United States is not being subverted by Bolsheviks and Jews.” “If you’re worried about the Bolsheviks, tell people not to vote for them And what is this obsession with Jews?” “They are a pernicious influence.” “There are Jews in Britain Father, don’t you remember how Lord Rothschild in London tried his best to prevent the war? There are Jews in France, in Russia, in America They’re not conspiring to betray their governments What makes you think ours are peculiarly evil? Most of them only want to earn enough to feed their families and send their children to school—just the same as everyone else.” Robert surprised Maud by speaking up “I agree with Uncle Otto,” he said “Democracy is enfeebling Germany needs strong leadership Jörg and I have joined the National Socialists.” “Oh, Robert, for God’s sake!” said Walter disgustedly “How could you?” Maud stood up “Would anyone like a piece of birthday cake?” she said brightly { II } Maud left the party at nine to go to work “Where’s your uniform?” said her mother-in-law as she said good-bye Susanne thought Maud was a night nurse for a wealthy old gentleman “I keep it there and change when I arrive,” Maud said In fact she played the piano in a nightclub called Nachtleben However, it was true that she kept her uniform at work She had to earn money, and she had never been taught to much except dress up and go to parties She had had a small inheritance from her father, but she had converted it to marks when she moved to Germany, and now it was worthless Fitz refused to give her money because he was still angry with her for marrying without his permission Walter’s salary at the Foreign Office was raised every month, but it never kept pace with inflation In partial compensation, the rent they paid for their house was now negligible, and the landlord no longer bothered to collect it But they had to buy food Maud got to the club at nine thirty The place was newly furnished and decorated, and looked good even with the lights up Waiters were polishing glasses, the barman was chipping ice, and a blind man was tuning the piano Maud changed into a low-cut evening dress and fake jewelry, and made up her face heavily with powder, eyeliner, and lipstick She was at the piano when the place opened at ten It rapidly filled up with men and women in evening clothes, dancing and smoking They bought champagne cocktails and discreetly sniffed cocaine Despite poverty and inflation, Berlin’s nightlife was hot Money was no problem to these people Either they had income from abroad, or they had something better than money: stocks of coal, a slaughterhouse, a tobacco warehouse, or, best of all, gold Maud was part of an all-female band playing the new music called jazz Fitz would have been horrified to see it, but she liked the job She had always rebelled against the restrictions of her upbringing Doing the same tunes every night could be tedious, but despite that it released something repressed within her She wiggled on her piano stool and batted her eyelashes at the customers At midnight she had a spot of her own, singing and playing songs made popular by Negro singers such as Alberta Hunter, which she learned from American discs played on a gramophone that belonged to Nachtleben’s owner She was billed as Mississippi Maud Between numbers a customer staggered up to the piano and said: “Play ‘Downhearted Blues,’ will you?” She knew the song, a big hit for Bessie Smith She started to play blues chords in E flat “I might,” she said “What’s it worth?” He held out a billion-mark note Maud laughed “That won’t buy you the first bar,” she said “Haven’t you got any foreign currency?” He handed her a dollar bill She took the money, stuffed it into her sleeve, and played “Downhearted Blues.” Maud was overjoyed to have a dollar, which was worth about a trillion marks Nevertheless she felt a little down, and her heart was really in the blues It was quite an achievement for a woman of her background to have learned to hustle tips, but the process was demeaning After her spot, the same customer accosted her on her way back to her dressing room He put his hand on her hip and said: “Would you like to have breakfast with me, sweetheart?” Most nights she was pawed, although at thirty-three she was one of the oldest women there: many were girls of nineteen and twenty When this happened the girls were not allowed to make a fuss They were supposed to smile sweetly, remove the man’s hand gently, and say: “Not tonight, sir.” But this was not always sufficiently discouraging, and the other girls had taught Maud a more effective line “I’ve got these tiny insects in my cunt hair,” she said “Do you think it’s anything to worry about?” The man disappeared Maud spoke German effortlessly after four years there, and working at the club she had learned all the vulgar words too The club closed at four in the morning Maud took off her makeup and changed back into her street clothes She went to the kitchen and begged some coffee beans A cook who liked her gave her a few in a twist of paper The musicians were paid in cash every night All the girls brought large bags in which to carry the bundles of banknotes On the way out, Maud picked up a newspaper left behind by a customer Walter would read it They could not afford to buy papers She left the club and went straight to the bakery It was dangerous to hold on to money: by evening your wages might not buy a loaf Several women were already waiting outside the shop in the cold At half past five the baker opened the door and chalked up his prices on a board Today a loaf of black bread was 127 billion marks Maud bought four loaves They would not eat it all today, but that did not matter Stale bread could be used to thicken soup: banknotes could not She got home at six Later she would dress the children and take them to their grandparents’ house for the day, so that she could sleep Right now she had an hour or so with Walter It was the best part of the day She prepared breakfast and took a tray into the bedroom “Look,” she said “New bread, coffee and a dollar!” “Clever girl!” He kissed her “What shall we buy?” He shivered in his pajamas “We need coal.” “No rush We can keep it, if you want It will be worth just as much next week If you’re cold, I’ll warm you.” He grinned “Come on, then.” She took off her clothes and got into bed They ate the bread, drank the coffee, and made love Sex was still exciting, even though it did not take as long as it had when first they were together Afterward, Walter read the newspaper she had brought home “The revolution in Munich is over,” he said “For good?” Walter shrugged “They’ve caught the leader It’s Adolf Hitler.” “The head of the party Robert joined?” “Yes He’s been charged with high treason He’s in jail.” “Good,” said Maud with relief “Thank God that’s over.” CHAPTER FORTY-TWO December 1923 to January 1924 Earl Fitzherbert got up on a platform outside Aberowen town hall at three o’clock in the afternoon on the day before the general election He wore formal morning dress and a top hat There was a burst of cheering from the Conservatives at the front, but most of the crowd booed Someone threw a crumpled newspaper, and Billy said: “None of that, now, boys, let him speak.” Low clouds darkened the winter afternoon, and the streetlights were already lit It was raining, but there was a big crowd, two or three hundred people, mostly miners in their caps, with a few bowler hats at the front and a scatter of women under umbrellas At the edges of the crowd, children played on the wet cobblestones Fitz was campaigning in support of the sitting M.P., Perceval Jones He began to talk about tariffs This was fine with Billy Fitz could speak on this subject all day without touching the hearts of Aberowen people In theory, it was the big election issue The Conservatives proposed to end unemployment by raising the duty on imports to protect British manufactures This had united the Liberals in opposition, for their oldest ideology was free trade Labour agreed that tariffs were not the answer, and proposed a program of national work to employ the idle, together with extended years of education to prevent ever more youngsters coming into the overcrowded job market But the real issue was who was to rule “In order to encourage agricultural employment, the Conservative government will give a bounty of one pound per acre to every farmer— provided he is paying his laborers thirty shillings a week or more,” said Fitz Billy shook his head, amused and disgusted at the same time Why give money to farmers? They were not starving Unemployed factory workers were Beside Billy, Da said: “This sort of talk isn’t going to win votes in Aberowen.” Billy agreed The constituency had once been dominated by hill farmers, but those days were over Now that the working class had the vote, the miners would outnumber the farmers Perceval Jones had held on to his seat, in the confused election of 1922, by a few votes Surely this time he would be thrown out? Fitz was winding up “If you vote Labour, you will be voting for a man whose army record is stained,” he said The audience did not much like that: they knew Billy’s story, and regarded him as a hero There was a mutter of dissent, and Da shouted: “Shame on you!” Fitz plowed on “A man who betrayed his comrades-in-arms and his officers, a man who was court-martialed for disloyalty and sent to jail I say to you: not bring disgrace on Aberowen by electing to Parliament a man such as that.” Fitz got down to ragged applause and boos Billy stared at him, but Fitz did not meet his eye Billy climbed onto the platform in his turn “You’re probably expecting me to insult Lord Fitzherbert the way he insulted me,” he said In the crowd, Tommy Griffiths shouted: “Give him hell, Billy!” Billy said: “But this isn’t a pithead punch-up This election is too important to be decided by cheap jibes.” They became subdued Billy knew they would not much like this reasonable approach They enjoyed cheap jibes But he saw his father nodding approval Da understood what Billy was trying to Of course he understood He had taught Billy “The earl has shown courage, coming here and stating his views to a crowd of coal miners,” Billy went on “He may be wrong—he is wrong—but he’s no coward He was like that in the war Many of our officers were They were brave, but wrongheaded They had the wrong strategy and the wrong tactics, their communications were poor, and their thinking was out of date But they wouldn’t change their ideas until millions of men had been killed.” The audience had gone quiet They were interested now Billy saw Mildred, looking proud, with a baby in each arm—Billy’s two sons, David and Keir, aged one and two Mildred was not passionate about politics, but she wanted Billy to become an M.P so that they could go back to London and she could restart her business “In the war, no working-class man was ever promoted above the rank of sergeant And all public schoolboys entered the army as second lieutenants Every veteran here today had his life needlessly put at risk by half-witted officers, and many of us had our lives saved by an intelligent sergeant.” There was a loud murmur of agreement “I’m here to say those days are over In the army and in other walks of life, men should be promoted for brains, not birth.” He raised his voice, and heard in his tone the thrill of passion that he knew from his father’s sermons “This election is about the future, and the kind of country our children will grow up in We must make sure it’s different from the one we grew up in The Labour Party doesn’t call for revolution—we’ve seen that in other countries, and it doesn’t work But we call for change—serious change, major change, radical change.” He paused, then raised his voice again for his peroration “No, I don’t insult Lord Fitzherbert, nor Mr Perceval Jones,” he said, pointing at the two top hats in the front row “I simply say to them: gentlemen, you are history.” There was a cheer Billy looked over the front row to the crowd of miners— strong, brave men who had been born with nothing but had nevertheless made lives for themselves and their families “Fellow workers,” he said “We are the future!” He got down from the platform When the votes were counted, he won by a landslide { II } So did Ethel The Conservatives formed the largest party in the new Parliament, but they did not have an overall majority Labour came second, with 191 M.P.s, including Eth Leckwith from Aldgate and Billy Williams from Aberowen The Liberals were third The Scottish Prohibitionists won one seat The Communist Party got none When the new Parliament assembled, Labour and Liberal members combined to vote the Conservative government out, and the king was obliged to ask the leader of the Labour Party, Ramsay MacDonald, to become prime minister For the first time, Britain had a Labour government Ethel had not been inside the Palace of Westminster since the day in 1916 when she got thrown out for shouting at Lloyd George Now she sat on the green leather bench in a new coat and hat, listening to the speeches, occasionally glancing up to the public gallery from which she had been ejected more than seven years ago She went into the lobby and voted with the members of the cabinet, famous socialists she had admired from a distance: Arthur Henderson, Philip Snowden, Sidney Webb, and the prime minister himself She had her own desk in a little office shared with another female Labour M.P She browsed in the library, ate buttered toast in the tearoom, and picked up sacks of mail addressed to her She walked around the vast building, learning its geography, trying to feel she was entitled to be there One day at the end of January she took Lloyd with her and showed him around He was almost nine years old, and he had never been inside a building so large or so luxurious She tried to explain the principles of democracy to him, but he was a little young On a narrow red-carpeted staircase on the border between the Commons and the Lords areas, they ran into Fitz He, too, had a young guest—his son George, called Boy Ethel and Lloyd were going up, Fitz and Boy coming down, and they met on a half landing Fitz stared at her as if he expected her to give way Fitz’s two sons, Boy and Lloyd, the heir to the title and the unacknowledged bastard, were the same age They looked at one another with frank interest At Tŷ Gwyn, Ethel remembered, whenever she encountered Fitz in the corridor she had had to stand aside, up against the wall, with her eyes cast down as he passed by Now she stood in the middle of the landing, holding Lloyd’s hand firmly, and stared at Fitz “Good morning, Lord Fitzherbert,” she said, and she tilted her chin up defiantly He stared back His face showed angry resentment At last he said: “Good morning, Mrs Leckwith.” She looked at his son “You must be Viscount Aberowen,” she said “How you do?” “How you do, ma’am,” the child said politely She said to Fitz: “And this is my son, Lloyd.” Fitz refused to look at him Ethel was not going to let Fitz off lightly She said: “Shake hands with the earl, Lloyd.” Lloyd stuck out his hand and said: “Pleased to meet you, Earl.” It would have been undignified to snub a nine-year-old Fitz was forced to shake For the first time, he had touched his son Lloyd “And now we’ll bid you good day,” Ethel said dismissively, and she took a step forward Fitz’s expression was thunderous Reluctantly he stood aside, with his son, and they waited, backs to the wall, as Ethel and Lloyd walked past them and on up the stairs Historical Characters Several real historical characters appear in these pages, and readers sometimes ask how I draw the line between history and fiction It’s a fair question, and here’s the answer In some cases, for example when Sir Edward Grey addresses the House of Commons, my fictional characters are witnessing an event that really happened What Sir Edward says in this novel corresponds to the parliamentary record, except that I have shortened his speech, without, I hope, losing anything important Sometimes a real person goes to a fictional location, as when Winston Churchill visits Tŷ Gwyn In that case, I have made sure that it was not unusual for him to visit country houses, and that he could well have done so at around that date When real people have conversations with my fictional characters, they are usually saying things they really did say at some point Lloyd George’s explanation to Fitz of why he does not want to deport Lev Kamenev is based on what Lloyd George wrote, in a memo quoted in Peter Rowland’s biography My rule is: either the scene did happen, or it might have; either these words were used, or they might have been And if I find some reason why the scene could not have taken place in real life, or the words would not really have been said—if, for example, the character was in another country at the time— I leave it out Acknowledgments My principal historical consultant for this book has been Richard Overy Other historians who read drafts and made corrections, saving me from many errors, were: John M Cooper, Mark Goldman, Holger Herwig, John Keiger, Evan Mawdsley, Richard Toye, and Christopher Williams Susan Pedersen helped with the subject of soldiers’ wives’ separation allowances As always, many of these advisers were found for me by Dan Starer of Research for Writers in New York City Friends who helped include Tim Blythe, who gave me some essential books; Adam Brett-Smith, who advised on champagne; the sharp-eyed Nigel Dean; Tony McWalter and Chris Manners, two wise and perceptive critics; trainspotter Geoff Mann, who advised on locomotive wheels; and Angela Spizig, who read the first draft and commented from a German perspective Editors and agents who read and advised were Amy Berkower, Leslie Gelbman, Phyllis Grann, Neil Nyren, Imogen Taylor, and, as ever, Al Zuckerman Finally I thank family members who read the draft and gave me advice, especially Barbara Follett, Emanuele Follett, Marie-Claire Follett, Jann Turner, and Kim Turner ... through the town like a wound, terminating at the pithead The miners’ houses had spread up the slopes of the valley, hundreds of gray stone homes with roofs of darker-gray Welsh slate They were... pair of trousers, his first long ones, made of the thick waterrepellent cotton called moleskin They were the symbol of entry into the world of men, and he pulled them on proudly, enjoying the. .. From the top of Wellington Row you could see the old commercial center, with the open pens of the cattle market, the wool exchange building, and the Anglican church, all on one side of the Owen