Lloyd could hardly believe it. ‘They’ve given up!’ he said aloud, and a man standing near him said: ‘Looks like it, don’t it?’

He watched for five minutes as the columns slowly moved off. When there was absolutely no doubt what was happening, he ran to a phone box and called Bernie. ‘They’re marching away!’ he said.

‘What, into the East End?’

‘No, the other way! They’re going west, into the City. We’ve won!’

‘Good God!’ Bernie spoke to the other people with him. ‘Everybody! The Fascists are marching west. They’ve given up!’

Lloyd heard a burst of wild cheering in the room.

After a minute Bernie said: ‘Keep an eye on them, let us know when they’ve all left Tower Gardens.’

‘Absolutely.’ Lloyd hung up.

He walked around the perimeter of the park in high spirits. It became clearer every minute that the Fascists were defeated. Their bands played, and they marched in time, but there was no spring in their step, and they no longer chanted that they were going to get rid of the Yids. The Yids had got rid of them.

As he passed the end of Byward Street he saw Daisy again.

She was heading towards the distinctive black-and-cream Rolls-Royce, and she had to walk past Lloyd. He could not resist the temptation to gloat. ‘The people of the East End have rejected you and your filthy ideas,’ he said.

She stopped and looked at him, cool as ever. ‘We’ve been obstructed by a gang of thugs,’ she said with disdain.

‘Still, you’re marching in the other direction now.’

‘One battle doesn’t make a war.’

That might be true, Lloyd thought; but it was a pretty big battle. ‘You’re not marching home with your boyfriend?’

‘I prefer to drive,’ she said. ‘And he’s not my boyfriend.’

Lloyd’s heart leaped in hope.

Then she said: ‘He’s my husband.’

Lloyd stared at her. He had never really believed that she would be so stupid. He was speechless.

‘It’s true,’ she said, reading the disbelief in his face. ‘Didn’t you see our engagement reported in the newspapers?’

‘I don’t read the society pages.’

She showed him her left hand, with a diamond engagement ring and a gold wedding band. ‘We were married yesterday. We postponed our honeymoon to join the march today. Tomorrow we’re flying to Deauville in Boy’s plane.’

She walked the few steps to the car and the chauffeur opened the door. ‘Home, please,’ she said.

‘Yes, my lady.’

Lloyd was so angry he wanted to hit someone.

Daisy looked back over her shoulder. ‘Goodbye, Mr Williams.’

He found his voice. ‘Goodbye, Miss Peshkov.’

‘Oh, no,’ she said. ‘I’m Viscountess Aberowen now.’

She just loved saying it, Lloyd could tell. She was a titled lady, and it meant the world to her.

She got into the car and the chauffeur closed the door.

Lloyd turned away. He was ashamed to realize that he had tears in his eyes. ‘Hell,’ he said aloud.

He sniffed, swallowing tears. He squared his shoulders and headed back towards the East End at a brisk walk. Today’s triumph had been soured. He knew he was a fool to care about Daisy – clearly she did not care about him – but, all the same, it broke his heart that she was throwing herself away on Boy Fitzherbert.