Barbara Bradford - A Woman of Substance

That pessimism was apparent in Adam’s voice as he suddenly roused himself and said, ‘We’re not as well prepared for this war as the Government would have us believe, Jocelyn.’

Astonishment mingled with alarm spread across Jocelyn’s face. He opened his mouth, but before he could speak Adam said hurriedly, in an effort to assuage Jocelyn’s burgeoning fears, ‘Except for the navy, of course. Thank God Winston Churchill has been First Lord of the Admiralty for the past three years. Only he and a few other enlightened men saw the menace of approaching war and tried to make ready for it.’ Adam’s tone became guarded as he continued, ‘I know Churchill has never been a favourite of yours, Jocelyn, but you must admit he had the foresight to recognize the increasing threat of German sea power as early as 1911, when he set about reorganizing the Fleet. Good job, too. By withdrawing our ships from China and the Mediterranean and concentrating the Home Fleet and the Battle Fleet in the North Sea, he has increased our strength immeasurably.’

‘Yes, that’s quite true,’ Jocelyn conceded. ‘And Churchill has had one aim I’ve always found most worthy-reinforcing the invincibility of the Royal Navy.’

‘Yes, the navy is strong, but that’s the only service that is, Jocelyn. The army is not at all well organized and our air power is minimal, even though Churchill has endeavoured to boost it lately.’ Adam paused, drew on his cigarette, and concluded. ‘The War Office has always been grossly inefficient. Actually, what we need now is a new Secretary of State for War!’

‘Do you think Asquith will appoint one?’ Jocelyn asked.

‘I’m positive he will have to,’ Adam responded firmly. ‘He cannot function as Prime Minister and run the War Office as well, not in a time of crisis such as this. I’m certain, knowing Asquith the way I do, that he will have the good sense to recognize that. And I hope he will have the wisdom to pick Lord Kitchener for the job. That’s the man we need in our hour of peril. Not only for his tremendous ability but for the uplifting effect on public morale his appointment will have.’

‘Yes, I see what you mean,’ Jocelyn agreed. ‘After all, Kitchener is a national hero.’

‘He’s more than that, Jocelyn. He’s a national institution. He symbolizes success to the public. Every military engagement he undertakes comes off beautifully.’ Adam swirled his drink, pondering. ‘He will have to raise new armies, of course. The Territorial Army is not very large. In point of fact, whoever is appointed Secretary of State for War will have to embark on a campaign immediately to recruit single men to go to the front.’

Jocelyn’s pale face had greyed. ‘A campaign to recruit single men,’ he repeated shakily. ‘I hadn’t thought of that.’

‘Since we don’t have a compulsory draft system, the country has to rely on volunteers-usually single men between the ages of eighteen and thirty.’ Adam stopped, aware of the sick expression on Jocelyn’s face. ‘Are you all right, old chap? You look positively ghastly.’

‘The boys,’ Jocelyn said in a whisper. ‘I’m not going to be able to restrain them, Adam. They’ll both volunteer immediately. You’re lucky, Adam. Gerald would never pass the physical and Edwin is married. Also, he has a sense of responsibility to you, and to Jane.’

‘I’m not so sure about Edwin, to be very honest with you. He’s also impulsive at times. Don’t think being a married man will stop him if he makes up his mind to go to war. Edwin will consider his responsibility is to his King and country and not the family, or even to Jane. I have a sneaking suspicion they will take precedence over everything else.’

Jocelyn bit his lip nervously. ‘This is a bloody foul messup, isn’t it? Who would have thought a few years ago that we would be plunged into this disastrous situation, Adam.’

‘Bruce McGill warned me ten years ago that there would be a great war,’ Adam said quietly, his eyes brooding. ‘He was right. That was in 1904-’

‘Was it, by Jove!’ Jocelyn interjected. ‘I didn’t know old Bruce was a political pundit.’

‘I’m not sure that he is,’ Adam remarked. ‘But he does happen to be a tremendously rich and powerful man, and he has friends in high places. When Bruce was in London last year with his son Paul he was full of foreboding, and I ignored him. I’m beginning to think I’m an ostrich like everyone else.’ Adam stood up. ‘I presume you’re cancelling the shoot, Jocelyn.’

‘Naturally. I don’t expect anyone will be interested in grouse at a time like this,’ Jocelyn replied with a weak smile. ‘Thanks for inviting me down to the newspaper. I really appreciate it, old chap.’

‘I’ve been glad to have your company, Jocelyn. Now let’s be off. This room is beginning to suffocate me.’

An hour and a half later Adam’s new Daimler motorcar was pulling into the driveway of Fairley Hall. Adam bade the chauffeur a crisp good-night and bounded up the steps.

Murgatroyd was hovering in the dimly lit entrance hall. He hurried forward when he saw Adam, as obsequious as always. ‘Mrs Fairley came down ter the kitchen ter tell me and Cook that we was at war. Aye, it’s horrible news.’

Adam cleared his throat. ‘Yes, indeed it is, Murgatroyd. The days ahead are going to be difficult for us all. But we must pull together and be strong in the country’s hour of need.’ He noticed the light streaming out from the library. ‘Has Mrs Fairley not retired yet, Murgatroyd?’

‘No, sir. She’s been waiting for yer. I built up the fire and made her some hot chocolate a bit ago, being as how it’s a right nippy night.’

‘I see.’ Adam strode across the hall.

Olivia had heard Adam’s voice and she was halfway across the floor when he entered the library. ‘Oh, Adam, this is all quite dreadful,’ she cried as she flew into his arms.

He held her close for a moment, stroking her hair. ‘Yes, it is, my dear. However, we’ve been expecting it and we must be courageous.’ He moved away from her and looked down into her face. ‘You shouldn’t have waited up for me. It’s awfully late, darling.’

She returned his smile. ‘I was terribly anxious to see you.’

‘I’m afraid I am a little done in.’

‘Perhaps a drink will help,’ she suggested.

‘It might indeed. I’ll have a nightcap before we go to bed. Brandy, please.’

Olivia gave him a soft loving look. Adam watched her gliding across the floor, his spirits lifting as they always did when he was with her, the war momentarily forgotten. She was wearing a deep blue crêpe de chine evening dress which flattered her lissome figure and reflected the colour of her eyes. Her face was still unlined and the white streak that shot through her dark luxuriant hair was most arresting. At fifty-four she was a striking woman, and in Adam’s opinion she grew more beautiful with age. They had been married for six years. In 1907 the Deceased Wife’s Sister Marriage Act, legalizing a man’s marriage to his sister-in-law, had been finally passed by Parliament after its defeat in 1901. Adam had convinced Olivia to become his wife in 1908, and they were so completely happy, so perfectly compatible no one else existed for them.

‘Incidentally, Edwin telephoned earlier. I told him about the grim developments,’ Olivia said, returning to the fireplace with the brandy.

Adam stiffened. ‘How did he react?’

‘With surprising mildness, I thought. He and Jane are driving over from Kirkby Malzeard tomorrow, to stay with us for a week as we had planned.’

‘Well, that is good news,’ Adam said. ‘Knowing Edwin, I had visions of him careering back to town to be in the thick of things. I’m glad they are coming. At least you will have some congenial company when I’m absent during the day.’