On 30 June 1930, ladies in immodest and brightly coloured swimsuits leapt into the newly opened Lido in Hyde Park, in London, for the inauguration of mixed bathing.
The Times reported on the withdrawal of French troops from the Rhineland, five years ahead of schedule, because the German Foreign Minister had successfully persuaded France that the years of German militarism had finally gone. A peaceful future for Europe was assured, and optimism was in the air.
Great Britain set the course for peace in the Middle East by recognising the independence of Iraq.
The paper was still reporting comment on the Simon Commission’s recommendation of a federal India, and there continued to be much of a buzz about Neville Chamberlain becoming the chairman of the Conservative Party.
What caught Rosie’s attention in The Times was none of these things, however. There was a report on the Lambeth Conference, and nothing could have interested her more. Under the chairmanship of Archbishop Cosmo Gordon Lang, racism was now expressly outlawed in the Anglican Church.
But there was also a new resolution about contraception, and she was dismayed by what she read. The conference had declared that, whilst abstinence was the obvious and primary method, it was lawful to use ordinary means of contraception, provided that it was done in the light of Christian principles. The measure had been carried by a majority of 126.
Rosie bridled. Although she could not quite articulate why, it was obvious to her that this was completely wrong,
It had taken her a great deal of effort to persuade Daniel that her attitudes were determined by her religious faith and not by any aversion to him, and now there was this.
Rosie read the rest of the newspaper, and then took it outside and consigned it to the incinerator, in case Daniel should see it when he returned.