Page 104 of An Invitation to the Kennedys

‘Hard not to.’

‘Not hard at all,’ Doris insisted.‘I no more listen to their views than I wear the same clothes, eat the same food, go to the same half-dozen places as they do.Easiest thing in the world.’She laughed.‘Imagine if everyone thought like Chips?Like Billy’s mother, charming though she is?Like his pleasant but impossible father?Even like your own mother?Think your own things, Kick.Whatever they are, make them your own.’

The girl looked struck.‘I see what you mean …’ she began.

‘Which reminds me,’ Doris said, ‘Diana and Mosley?’

‘What about them?’

‘I didn’t realise you knew them.Or certainly not so well.’

‘I don’t.I mean, I’ve been to dinner, once, with Debo.But when they arrived yesterday and Diana was so very friendly, well, I wasn’t expecting it.’Doris looked at her a moment.Kick was flushed.‘Honestly, without Debo there, I didn’t knowwhatto say to her.’

Doris laughed.‘You know,’ she said, ‘I always forget with Diana, and even Mosley, that underneath all that charm, really they are no different to the rough men I see on every street corner in Berlin; who shout and break things and shove people, protected behind the Nazi armbands they wear.It takes me a while to remember that, when I meet them again.But I think you are cleverer than I am.Certainly clever enough to see beyond the charm.And to understand that when someone wants something, how careful they are to appear terribly friendly.’

‘Terribly friendly, and really quite frightening,’ Kick admitted.

‘More frightening than you know.’Doris took up a piece of embroidery that lay on the table beside her and, turning it over, examined the knots and stitches that made up the hidden side.‘Look how different they are,’ she said, showing Kick first one side and then the other.

‘I guess I see what you mean,’ Kick said.

‘If one dislikes prejudice – as I see you do – it’s terribly important to dislike it in all guises,’ Doris said.‘Otherwise one is a hypocrite.’

‘I’m not that,’ Kick said stoutly.

‘No, I was certain you were not.’

‘Mosley is like Pa.He wants to avoid a war …’ Almost, it was a question.

‘I have seen things that are no different to war,’ Doris said.‘As cruel and ugly and stupid.Only as it is, there is no force to oppose them.In a war, there would be two sides.There would be a fight.Right now, there is only one side and the things happen without a fight.Without resistance.’

They sat in silence then and Doris picked at a loose thread, a piece of yellow silk that had come unravelled.She tied a careful knot in it.

‘I think if Diana asks me again, I will say no.To dinner,’ Kick said.

‘I think the ambassador might thank you if you did.’

‘Wasn’t he brilliant?’Kick said with a laugh.

‘I’ve never seen anyone evade so successfully.’Then, after a while, ‘Was anyone else at the dinner?’

‘Unity.’Doris made a face.‘Debo, of course.A man called David.’

‘David Envers?’

‘Yes, that was it.He barely said a thing.’

‘I see.Did he—’ and then she broke off.‘Never mind.’There was no point asking more.No point asking what she most wanted to know – did Envers talk about her?Ask after her?The answer belonged in a past she dared not dwell on.

‘Would you rather I didn’t say anything, even to Pa?’Kick said then, getting up and stretching her arms high above her head.

‘I would.The Jewish side of my family is a secret, for now.I’ve had some long talks with your father about Germany and what’s happening there.I hoped to persuade him to take a different view although I’m not sure I’ve succeeded.’

‘Hard to, when Pa has made up his mind about something,’ Kick said sympathetically.‘They think he’s a coward.Billy and Andrew and Hugo.I’ve heard them say it.But it’s not that.He really, truly believes war is terrible and must always be avoided, whatever the cost.’

‘Whereas your young men, like all young men, believe shame is worse than war?’

‘I guess they do.’She looked gloomy.‘What do you believe?’