Andrew Wareham - End to Illusion

“Behind you dear, on the left. Richard is home and is made a colonel now.”

“Oh! Why is that?”

“A reward for virtue, sister! Why are you making up your own dresses now?”

“I am trying to be economical, brother. If I am to wed a farmer then I must dress myself from my own needle. I am less inclined towards marriage just now, I must say! Why are you here, Richard?”

He explained in detail.

“Ah, I see. You are in between, one might say.”

“In part, sister. More importantly is that I wish to confer with our father about my future. I am not yet of age and require his permission for certain matters, despite being a colonel with command of more than eight hundred men. A foolish way of doing things!”

His younger sister was not the brightest of young ladies, had to think long on what permission he might require.

“Are you to wed, Richard? How jolly! Who is the young lady? Is she nobly born?”

“She is, but her name must remain mine until I have spoken to our father.”

Richard’s mother appeared, refreshed from her nap.

“Is that you, Richard?”

“Yes, Mother.”

“I thought it was… Are you here for the holidays?”

“I am no longer a schoolboy, Mother.”

“Oh, no, I remember now. You have become a soldier, which is very strange for I quite thought you were to sail. At sea. In a ship.”

“I could not get on in the Navy and became a soldier instead. Now I have been promoted colonel and have my own battalion.”

“Oh! Fancy that! A colonel… that is higher than lieutenant, is it not?”

“Yes, mother. I have command of a whole battalion, some eight hundred officers and men. I am to take them to France at the end of next month.”

“Oh! That will be July, almost, will it not? Are you not to be home for your birthday? I had thought we might have a party for your twenty-first.”

“No, Mother. I am afraid the needs of the war must come first.”

“So they must… Has it not finished yet? It seems to have been going on for a very long time.”

“No, Mother. It will last a lot longer yet, I am much afraid.”

“Oh. I have heard that a lot of young men have been killed, Richard. Would it not be better, far safer, were you to resign and come home instead?”

Victoria intervened.

“That is not possible, Mama. The King would not let him.”

There was little point to mentioning the government.

“Well, I think that is jolly unkind of him. Richard has that medal, you know. Is not that sufficient for one man?”

“No, Mama. It shows that he is a good soldier and must go to war for his country.”

“I shall speak to your Papa. He will know what to do about it.”

That was unanswerable.

“Will Father be home at six, as normal, Vicky?”

“It will take more than a war to alter his ways, Richard. Home for six and dine at half past. Will you take tea with us now or are you in the habit of drinking something more manly these days?”

“Tea, if you please, Vicky. The whisky bottle offers too many temptations. I do not touch the stuff other than I must. There are men in the trenches who depend on the bottle, I much fear. I will not become one of them.”

“You have grown up, Richard. You are a man now.”

“There is no place for boys in this war, Vicky. What of you? Are you active in any way?”

“No. I have been thinking of joining one of the Women’s Services. Papa has permitted me to learn to drive now that there are no taxicabs and we cannot keep a chauffeur to take Mama into the shops. I could become a driver in FANY. Alex could take my place here.”

“She could. Perhaps you should. You are of age and your own woman now. There is a need for drivers and you could free up a man to carry a rifle. The idea of the auxiliary nursing yeomanry is one of the best to have come up. We have lost enough men that we will soon be short of willing volunteers and women must go out to release more to fight.”

“I do not think Papa will approve… I need not tell him, of course.”

“You could live at my house if you are made unwelcome here, Vicky. I will need to buy for myself if all goes as I hope.”

“I will take you up on that, Richard. I cannot continue here, reading the newspapers and seeing the black-bordered lists grow longer every day. When will it end, Richard?”

That, he could not say.

“Not this year, my dear. I do not know how it shall come to a favourable conclusion. We shall fight on and hope that the leaders of all of the countries involved may some day see sense. I doubt that – they are politicians, after all!”

Dinner was unchanged; there was no sign of the food shortages that had been rumoured to exist. The soup was still brown and the roast beef overdone but all was available in plenty. The three women withdrew and Richard begged speech with his father.

“I wondered why you were here, boy… No, change that. I am sorry, you are very much a man now. A colonel! Before you are of age, by God! Come into my workroom. We can talk there.”

The study had unpleasant connotations; Richard had never been in there as a boy other than to be hauled over the coals for his many transgressions. He sat in the comfortable chair opposite his father, glass in hand, choosing his words.

“I have met a girl, a young woman, Father, who I wish to wed. Primrose Patterson, daughter to Lord Elkthorn. He is a member of the government and wealthy, I am told. The word is that his father was in South Africa in the middle of the ‘80s and almost accidentally became involved in the Gold Rush on the Witwatersrand. I don’t know the details but somehow he ended up as a major shareholder in more than one mine.”

The older man whistled.

“You are talking millions there, Richard! A sensible conquest!”

“I hoped you would think so, Father. She is a lovely girl – not in the ordinary way, either. Clever, not some empty-headed deb. I think she would take me. I haven’t spoken to her or her father, needing to know how I would be fixed first. I could live on a colonel’s money, I think. I had rather not try to keep up a house and a wife on my pay alone.”

“Could you do better than her, financially, Richard?”

“Possibly. I don’t know. I don’t intend to find out, unless she turns me down, of course.”

“Well said. You will inherit forty-nine per cent of the firm. That leaves the majority in the control of your cousins. They will run the business between them. The girls will get money but no shares in the firm – none of their business, working in iron and steel. I am buying into other works, by the way, north of here. Kettering ain’t the best place for iron no more. No matter, you won’t ever be part of the working of the business. It will be worth a couple of millions in your pocket if, as I think sensible, you sell up your share. Your cousins could take up a loan and buy you out. Deal with that when I kick the bucket, which ain’t going to be yet for a few years!”

Richard smiled – the Old Man seemed strong and good for another twenty years at least.

“For an income? I will buy you a house – big and proper for a posh family. A bit of land, but not much – you ain’t in the farming way. No bloody money in the Land, not no more! You’ll need a couple of thou’ a year to run that and I’ll add another three for your household and uniforms and such. Will you stay on as a soldier after the war?”

“Maybe. I don’t know. The way I’m going, I could make acting rank as a general by the end of the war. It’s got a few more years in it yet. I would drop back a few ranks when the war ended and the Army was cut in size. Might well finish up no more than a major and twenty years to get back to brigadier. I would still be young and well placed if there should be another big war. Possible that I could leave the Army and find a big job as a civilian. Chief Constable or something like that. If I marry Primrose, her father will have influence. Anything is possible – provided I live through the next years.”