‘Oh, my poor darling,’ said Constance. ‘That’s so unfair!’
‘I know,’ said Alston. It was nice to be able to briefly drop his guard with Constance.
‘Maybe it’s not so bad,’ said Constance.
‘How can it not be?’ said Alston.
‘You said Churchill was a fool. Maybe he will lose the war and then they’ll dump him too.’
Perhaps Constance had a point. In a way, the biggest risk to Alston’s vision of a modern pro-German government was not Churchill, but a coalition of tired old moderates who would be able to negotiate a peace with Germany that left Britain alone to continue its path to decline and decay. That was not what Alston wanted.
Alston wanted a strong government, with himself at the heart of it, with Lloyd George as Prime Minister and the Duke of Windsor as king. A government that was an ally of Germany, that had the strength of purpose to rule the world in partnership with Hitler, that would lead Britain to greatness once again.
‘Maybe the Germans will finally attack France tomorrow and knock the Frogs out of the war with one of their blitzkriegs. With Chamberlain gone and Halifax out of the picture, there will be only you left to save us all from the warmongers!’
‘Maybe they will,’ said Alston. He smiled and stroked Constance’s hair. Her unquestioning support helped. And although she seemed naive and ignorant of politics, in fact she had good instincts.
Alston banished all thoughts of giving up. Next time, when Churchill slipped up, he had to be ready to move. Constance was right: that time might not be very far away.
‘By the way, you don’t have to worry about Conrad de Lancey anymore,’ Constance said. ‘I saw Joe Sullivan today and gave him the money. He’ll make sure de Lancey won’t be asking any more difficult questions about Lord Copthorne or me or the Duke of Windsor. We just need to alert Joe when de Lancey is back in London.’
‘Sullivan agreed to do it just like that?’
‘Yes. It wasn’t just for the money. I explained that de Lancey was against the cause.’
‘It’s more than that,’ said Alston. ‘I have heard de Lancey has been asking a lot of awkward questions, and unless we do something very soon he will find some very awkward answers. He’s getting very close.’
‘Well, Joe will put a stop to that.’
‘Good,’ said Alston.
Alston sipped his whisky and smiled. Only a few months ago, the idea of killing de Lancey would have shocked him. But now he knew that it was the right and necessary thing to do if de Lancey were not to blow the whole thing open. In moments of national crisis, like now, he had to have the moral strength to do what was necessary. Anything less was weakness and, unlike Lord Halifax, Alston was not weak. Herr Hitler and Signor Mussolini had not achieved what they had by being weak. Constance had taught him that. Which was remarkable for such a young woman.
‘You have been an enormous help to me, Constance. But someone like you shouldn’t be involved in this kind of thing.’
‘I love helping you, silly!’ She smiled at him. Then the smile disappeared. ‘Besides, I told you I had once killed someone. Before Millie.’
‘I remember you saying you had “taken steps”.’ Alston had been curious at the time what those steps were. He was even more curious now.
‘It was my uncle.’
‘The one you went to live with?’
‘That’s right. After Daddy killed himself, my mother, my sister and I went down to Dulwich to stay with him and my aunt — my aunt is my mother’s sister. After the factory closed we had no money and they did. I knew there was something wrong with Uncle Cedric, but I didn’t know what. On the surface, he seemed very correct and proper, kind even, but he was cruel to my aunt and my mother. He had my aunt under his thumb and he soon had my mother in the same position.
‘Then one night he came into our bedroom. My younger sister Lucy was asleep. He tried to kiss me. So I whacked him. For the next three months there was war between us, he did all he could to turn my mother and my aunt against me. It was horrible, but I refused to give up.’
Constance sighed. ‘But he knew how to really hurt me. One morning I came back to our bedroom and found him with Lucy. She was naked. She was only thirteen! When he saw me, he smiled.’
‘How old were you?’
‘I was fifteen. The next morning he fell under the eight-thirty-nine train to London Bridge. A witness said she thought he was pushed. I told the police he had wanted to kill himself. I was late to school that morning, but no one noticed.’
‘My God,’ said Alston.
‘And the thing of it is,’ said Constance, ‘life was better for me and for my sister, and for my mother and my aunt. Much better.’ She kissed his scarred cheek. He loved the way she seemed to favour that side of his face with her tenderness.
‘I’ve never told anyone that before. I didn’t think anyone would understand. But you understand, don’t you, Henry? Now.’
‘Yes,’ said Alston, stroking her hair. ‘I understand.’
‘It’s either de Lancey or us, Henry. You can’t become Prime Minister if you are in jail for murder, now can you? Come to bed. And tomorrow, who knows? Perhaps the war will be lost and you will have your chance again.’
Part 4
May 1940
41
Extracts from Lieutenant Dieter von Hertenberg’s Diary
10 May
It’s started! We crossed the River Sûre on the Luxembourg border at 0530 this morning with the tanks of 1st Panzer Division. I am in the armoured command car with General Guderian; I go everywhere he goes. The roads are narrow and winding with steep wooded valleys. The weather is gorgeous; the sky is blue and clear. Tanks stretch out for kilometres — we are sitting ducks for French aircraft, but fortunately we haven’t seen any. The Luxembourg border guards were overwhelmed by detachments of our infantry and we drove straight through.
Our orders are to push through the Ardennes forest to Luxembourg and Belgium until we reach Sedan. Then we establish a bridgehead over the River Meuse.
11 May
Delayed by minefields and demolition of bridges on the Belgian border with Luxembourg. Brief fighting with French cavalry and Belgian Chasseurs Ardennais around Neufchâteau. Reached the Semois River at Bouillon. It’s not very wide, but the banks form a good defensive line for the French and Belgians. The French are digging in at the town of Bouillon.
I think we have created the largest traffic jam in Europe; apparently the columns of vehicles stretch back all the way across Luxembourg to Germany. Still seen only a couple of French reconnaissance aircraft, which is lucky because we are trapped on these narrow forest roads.
12 May
Whitsun. The French have blown the bridge over the Semois, but it is fordable in places. The French have retreated from Bouillon. Our engineers constructed a new bridge and 1st Panzer crossed into the town.
We have suffered enemy bombing for the first time. We set up Corps HQ in the Hôtel Panorama in Bouillon, which does indeed have a wonderful view of the Semois valley. Guderian was standing by a fireplace in the parlour. Hunting trophies lined the walls, including a particularly large wild boar’s head. Suddenly some British bombs landed nearby, one of which hit an ammunition supply column. There was a series of massive explosions: glass shattered, and the trophies flew off the wall. The giant boar missed Guderian by only a few centimetres. He was badly shaken.