THE MONTMARAY JOURNALS

Book One A Brief History of Montmaray Book Two The FitzOsbornes in Exile Book Three The FitzOsbornes atWar

Copyright Michelle Cooper 2012. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

Copyright Michelle Cooper 2012. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

A Random House book Published by Random House Australia Pty Ltd Level 3, 100 Pacic Highway, North Sydney NSW 2060 www.randomhouse.com.au First published by Random House Australia in 2012 Copyright Michelle Cooper 2012 The moral right of the author has been asserted. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted by any person or entity, including internet search engines or retailers, in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying (except under the statutory exceptions provisions of the Australian Copyright Act 1968), recording, scanning or by any information storage and retrieval system without the prior written permission of Random House Australia. Addresses for companies within the Random House Group can be found at www.randomhouse.com.au/ofces. National Library of Australia Cataloguing-in-Publication Entry Author: Cooper, Michelle Title: The FitzOsbornes at war / Michelle Cooper ISBN: 978 1 74275 032 3 Series: Cooper, Michelle. Montmaray journals; 3 Target audience: For secondary school age Dewey number: A823.4 Cover design by Christabella Designs Cover photograph by Nikoline Rasmussen Internal design by Zo Sadokierski Typeset in Perpetua 12/15pt by Midland Typesetters, Australia Printed in Australia by Grifn Press, an accredited ISO AS/NZS 14001:2004 Environmental Management System printer The paper this book is printed on is certied against the Forest Stewardship Council Standards. Grifn Press holds FSC chain of custody certication SGS-COC-005088. FSC promotes environmentally responsible, socially benecial and economically viable management of the worlds forests.

Copyright Michelle Cooper 2012. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

The FitzOsborne Family Tree

His Majesty King John the Sixth (18501917) Lady Clementine Weston (18691914)

1. Rebecca Chester (1890 )

His Majesty King John the Seventh (18911936)

2. Isabella lvarez de Sevilla y Martnez (18991928)

Her Royal Highness Princess Sophia (born and died 1894)

Her Royal Highness Princess Margaret (born and died 1894)

His Royal Highness Prince Robert (18991926)

The Honourable Jane Newington (18991926)

Her Royal Highness The Princess Royal Princess Charlotte (1892 )

Sir Arthur Marlowe (18511915)

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Simon Chester (1914 )

Her Royal Highness Princess Veronica (1919 )

His Majesty King Tobias (1919 )

Her Royal Highness Princess Sophia (1920 )

Her Royal Highness Princess Henrietta (1926 )

The Story So Far

In A BRIEF HISTORY OF MONTMARAY, Sophie FitzOsborne lived in a crumbling castle in the tiny island kingdom of Montmaray, along with her tomboy younger sister, Henry, her beautiful, intellectual cousin, Veronica, Veronicas father, the completely mad King John, and their housekeeper, Rebecca. Sophies brother,Toby, was at boarding school in England, and Rebeccas son, Simon, worked in London. Their only visitors on the island were Captain Zuleta, whose cargo ship brought supplies, and Julia Stanley-Ross (the sister of Tobys best friend, Rupert), along with Julias anc, Anthony. However, not long after the last remaining villagers (Alice, Mary and Jimmy) left the island, a German historian, Otto Rahn, and a Nazi ofcer, Hans Brandt, arrived on a search for the Holy Grail. Ignoring Veronicas orders to stay away from the family, the Germans broke into the castle. Brandt was killed by mad King John, and Sophie and Veronica, aided by Rebecca, hid the mutilated body. A high-ranking ofcer named Gebhardt was sent to investigate Brandts disappearance. Gebhardt was injured in a confrontation with King John and left the island, vowing revenge. The King died later that day.
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At King Johns funeral, Rebecca revealed that Simon was the Kings son, but the subsequent dispute over the throne was put aside when Toby was badly hurt in an accident. He and Henry were evacuated by Anthony in his aeroplane. Before the others could leave, though, Montmaray was attacked by German bomber planes. The rest of the family escaped from the island with the help of Captain Zuleta and Julias uncle, Colonel Stanley-Ross. The journal ended as Sophie arrived at her Aunt Charlottes country house in England, with Veronica injured by Rebecca in an attempted murder, no clear heir to the throne and their island home destroyed.

EXILE, Sophie recounted the difculties she had adjusting to her new life. Aunt Charlottes campaign to nd Sophie and Veronica rich, titled husbands got off to a bad start at their rst dinner party, when Veronica had a loud argument with Sir Oswald Mosley, leader of the British Union of Fascists. Sophie and Veronica then moved to Montmaray House in London, where they attended debutante balls, were presented at Court, and became close friends with Rupert, Julia and the extended Stanley-Ross family. The girls also got to know the children of the new US Ambassador, Joe Kennedy, and unwittingly made enemies of the British royal family. Despite being strictly chaperoned, Veronica managed a couple of meetings with Daniel, her former tutor, who was now running a Socialist newspaper. In 1937, when Guernica was bombed during the Spanish Civil War and it became apparent that the Nazis were using Montmaray as a military base, the FitzOsbornes tried to convince the British government to take action against Germany. Meanwhile, the girls set up a house in Milford to
IN
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In THE FITZOSBORNES

care for Basque refugee children, including Carmelita, who became rm friends with Henry. Veronicas outspoken nature and left-wing political beliefs led to her receiving threatening letters, and she was attacked at Julia and Anthonys wedding. Veronicas assailant was later revealed to be a passionate Mosley supporter and a former patient of the psychiatric clinic where Rebecca had been conned. Veronica and Simon eventually put aside their longstanding enmity to join forces and petition the British Foreign Ofce to assist in the removal of the Germans from Montmaray, but the government was anxious to avoid any conict with Hitler.With the help of Daniel, they wrote to Otto Rahn, asking him to support their case against Gebhardt. Otto agreed, but died soon afterwards in suspicious circumstances. With war in Europe increasingly likely, Britain introduced conscription and Toby joined the Royal Air Force. In a last attempt to regain their homeland, the FitzOsbornes accepted an invitation to address the League of Nations in Geneva.Toby, Simon, Veronica and Sophie sneaked off, against their aunts wishes, but were spotted by Gebhardt and his men, who were determined to stop the FitzOsbornes revealing the truth about Montmarays invasion. After a terrifying chase across France, the FitzOsbornes evaded the Nazis and Veronica delivered her speech to the League of Nations, to great acclaim. Colonel Stanley-Ross met them afterwards with the news that Germany and the Soviet Union were about to sign a military pact, leaving Germany free to invade Poland an act that would inevitably lead to Britain and its allies declaring war against Germany. Sophie ended her journal dreading the start of the war, but grimly determined to do all she could to defeat the Nazis.
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Selected excerpts from the journals of Her Royal Highness Princess Sophia of Montmaray, 19391944

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3rd September, 1939

Im quite sure that, in twenty or thirty years time, people will say about this morning, Ill never forget where I was when I heard the news. Theyll say, I was sitting in church and the vicar was halfway through his sermon or We were washing up after breakfast and my sister decided to turn on the wireless or Id just come back from a long ride through the woods and I handed my horse over to the groom and he told me. But the thing is, we could all be dead in twenty years time, or even twenty days time, the way the world is going, and so, for the record: when the British Prime Minister announced that the country was at war with Germany, I was in the breakfast room at Milford Park. My cousin,Veronica, was perched on the edge of the windowseat, and my brother, Toby, was sprawled across the rest of it. Veronica was rigid with barely suppressed fury; Toby appeared to be asleep, although the tiny, unfamiliar dent between his eyebrows suggested he was listening as hard as anyone. My little sister, Henry, was kneeling at their feet, spreading anchovy paste on bread crusts and silently handing them to our dog, Carlos, whod been allowed upstairs due to the signicance of the occasion. And Simon, my other cousin, was hunched over the wireless (which tended to lapse into
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static unless someone stood beside it, twiddling the knobs). Simons face was utterly blank impossible to read, despite all the years Id spent studying him. Now, may God bless you all, the Prime Minister quavered. (Veronica gave a derisive snort.) It is the evil things we shall be ghting against, went on Mr Chamberlain. Brute force, bad faith, injustice, oppression and persecution. And, against them, I am certain that the right will prevail. There was a moment of crackling quiet, then God Save The King began wheezing out of the wireless. Simon switched it off. What a hypocrite that man is! Veronica burst out, jumping to her feet. He didnt consider them evil things last year, when he was hobnobbing with Hitler in Munich and handing over entire countries to the Nazis! Toby, said Henry urgently, twisting around to look at him, Toby, do you have to go back to your squadron now, this very minute? I dont have a squadron, Hen, not yet, said Toby, easing himself up on his elbows. The air force wont assign me to one till Ive nished advanced training. If Chamberlain had any decency, hed resign! said Veronica, still glaring at the wireless. But Toby, when do you have to go back? Henry persisted. Tomorrow, said Toby. Oh, Henry said, blinking. Her face was easy to read. I saw, in rapid succession: dismay that hed be leaving so soon; patriotic pride at having a brother already in the services; and
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burgeoning curiosity about what might happen to her now. I suppose, she added, almost wistfully, that the war will be over by the time Im old enough to ght. Lets hope so, I said shortly. I was having trouble making my lips work, because a cold numbness had settled upon me the moment Mr Chamberlain had begun to speak. As inevitable as this announcement was to everyone else, I realised Id been praying all along for a last-minute miracle. For Stalin to change his mind, for the Americans to intervene, for Hitler to fall under a train . . . anything, anything at all. Now I understood how stupid Id been. Dont worry, Soph, itll be over by Christmas, said Toby, ashing me a smile. Isnt that what they said last time? And that went on four whole years, I said bleakly. Besides, Henry, you couldnt ght, even if you were old enough, Veronica said, frowning down at her. Youre a girl. So what? retorted Henry. Girls can join the air force, Julia told me! And the army, and the navy, too! Its just that the womens services have silly names, like Wrens for the navy. Wrens, how idiotic, it ought to be Albatrosses or Razorbills or something like that. But thats the one I want to join, cause I can sail and row and Carlos placed a paw on her arm and gave her a meaningful look. Oh, sorry, Carlos, she said, handing him the piece of bread shed been waving around. Toby sighed and slumped back against the window frame. Its so odd, isnt it? he remarked to no one in particular. I mean, all those times when it seemed about to start, and then everything went back to normal. And now . . . Oh Lord,
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to think of old Ribbentrop being responsible for this! I met him, you know, I actually had dinner with the man who got the Soviets to join up with the Nazis. The MolotovRibbentrop Pact, isnt that what its being called? Everyones a political expert, these days. Even I knew that if that pact hadnt been signed, Germany wouldnt have invaded Poland and we wouldnt be at war now. And he seemed such a joke back then! Toby continued. Simon, dont you remember, that party at the Bosworths? When he was still the German Ambassador and all the girls were calling him von Ribbensnob and you spent ages chatting to him about Simon shot Toby a withering look. Oh, right, said Toby. Sorry. That dinner party had been the beginning of the end, for Montmaray. If Ribbentrop hadnt passed Simons information on to those Nazi Grail hunters, then perhaps our home would never have been invaded . . . But what did it matter, now that the whole of Europe was at war? Which reminded me of something else. Do we have to declare war on Germany ourselves? I asked. On behalf of Montmaray, I mean? Oh, said Veronica, her frown digging further into her forehead. Yes, wed better send a letter to the German Embassy straight away. And another one to the Foreign Ofce, reminding the British that were their allies. Otherwise, we might get interned as Enemy Aliens. Theyve already started rounding up Germans in London, Daniel was saying yesterday. Anyone who isnt a British subject Carlos suddenly tilted his head towards the window and crinkled his brow. Whats that noise? asked Henry.
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Veronica turned to stare in the direction of the village. Surely it couldnt be Air raid siren, said Toby, scrambling to his feet as Carlos added his howl to the rising cacophony. Grab your gas masks and lets go! Mines upstairs, said Henry. Or hang on did I leave it in the stables? Henry! snapped Veronica. I told you to keep it with you! There were thumps and shouts from the corridor, and a couple of maids rushed past the open door, trailing mops and dusters. I stood where I was, frozen with horror. You see, I took Lightning out for a ride before breakfast, said Henry. Or maybe its Whats that under the table? Isnt that yours? asked Veronica. Oh, right. But, you know, it really isnt fair, Carlos doesnt have a gas mask, nobody ever thinks about the poor animals Harkness, our intimidating butler, loomed in the doorway, accompanied by several white-faced footmen. Your Majesty, Your Highnesses, may I suggest you join us in the cellars immed Just a moment, said Toby, raising a hand. We listened in the abrupt stillness. The rise and fall of the siren had changed to a steady blare. Thats the All Clear signal, said Veronica. Must have been a false alarm, said Toby. We looked out the window at the serene countryside, then up at the vast expanse of pale autumn sky, utterly devoid of aeroplanes. I sank into a chair, limp with relief.
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We really ought to have a drill, said Veronica crossly. Practise what to do in a real emergency. That was just hopeless. I shall make arrangements for it at once,Your Highness, said Harkness, bowing. At no stage had he looked anything other than his usual imperturbable self. He swept the maids back down the corridor with a wave of his hand, gathered up the footmen and disappeared. Well, thats it, then, Toby said, rubbing his forehead. Come on, Hen, you can help me pack up my room . . . Yes, all right, Carlos can come, too. The three of them went off, followed by Veronica, who announced that if anyone needed her, shed be in the library, drafting a letter to the German Embassy. They left a ringing silence in their wake. I took an unsteady breath and looked down at my hands. They were quivering as though a bomb really had exploded and the shock waves were still reverberating around the room. Although its pretty unlikely the Germans would drop a bomb in the middle of Dorset, I said to Simon, who was unplugging the wireless. I mean, itd be a complete waste of time and effort for them, wouldnt it? Would it? he said. Theres an aireld not far from here. Simon, you could at least pretend to be reassuring. He turned and gave me a look that spoke volumes. Sorry, I said. Everythings horrible, I know. And its so much worse for you and Toby. I didnt have to go into the air force, he said. We all have some choices, even in these circumstances. Anyway, what are you going to do now? Have you decided?
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I sighed. Id had a long chat about this very issue with our friend Colonel Stanley-Ross on our way back from Switzerland last week. (I think hed wanted to distract me from what he termed a spot of turbulence, quite routine, but was actually our aeroplane being battered by gale-force winds, eight thousand feet above the jagged tops of the Alps.) The Colonel had suggested that Veronica and I do a secretarial course he thought typing and shorthand would come in handy, regardless of what we ended up doing. Hed asked what skills I had, and Id explained I didnt have any. Now, Sophie, he said. What about your writing? Nearly everyone over the age of seven can write, I pointed out. You know what I mean. Governments always seem to require enormous quantities of pamphlets and reports and manuals during a war, and someone has to write and edit them. What languages can you speak? English. And French? Not really. I can read it, a bit, but I cant speak it. Veronica knows lots of languages, though. Latin and Cornish, Veronica said, from the other side of the Colonel. And wont they be a huge help if theres a war? Assuming its a war involving Ancient Romans and Bretons. Shes uent in Spanish, too, I told the Colonel. Her mother used to speak it with her. Is that so? he said, looking at Veronica thoughtfully. Well, the other thing to do is a rst aid course. Thats always useful. I couldnt, I said. Honestly, I faint at the sight of blood. Can you drive?
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No, I said, feeling more and more useless. But Veronica can. Oh, look! interrupted Veronica, pointing at the window with great excitement. We must be over France now! Its as though were oating across a giant map. Is that the Seine? I knew that if I looked out the window and saw how high we were, Id be sick, so I concentrated even harder on my conversation with the Colonel. Besides, Aunt Charlotte is never going to let us train for anything, let alone apply for jobs, I told him. She doesnt even approve of girls attending school. She thinks it hinders their marriage prospects. Would you really want to marry the sort of man whos intimidated by educated women? said the Colonel (reminding me of why we like him so much). Although I do think your aunts attitude will change if war is declared. Everyone doing his or her bit for the war effort, you know.You might nd you have more freedom than you expected. Well have to get jobs, anyway, said Veronica, because shes cut off our allowances. And that was simply after Toby refused to marry that Helena girl nothing at all to do with our League of Nations trip. Shes going to throw a t when we get back to England. That was putting it mildly.Aunt Charlotte was completely incensed that wed disobeyed her orders and sneaked off to Geneva. And that was before she even got around to reading the days newspaper headlines: Princess Rebukes Brutal Germany; League Condemns German Invasion of Montmaray; My Life in Exile: The Tragic Tale of a Beautiful Princess (exclusive interview on page ve); and so on.
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Most of our aunts fury was vented on Veronica. Ive never heard of anything so vulgar in all my life! Aunt Charlotte raged. Making a public spectacle of yourself! Giving political speeches! Allowing yourself to be photographed! And this exclusive interview unchaperoned, no doubt! It wasnt an exclusive interview, Veronica attempted to explain. There were dozens of newspapermen there Dozens! Newspapermen! Aunt Charlotte was actually rendered speechless for a moment. When she recovered, she turned upon Simon. And where were you while all this was going on, may I ask? I was extracting Toby from the depths of a Swiss police station! he retorted, returning her glare. She looked rather taken aback until that moment, Simon had always been the epitome of deferential diplomacy around her. But now he had chosen a side ours, not hers and he was sticking to it. Besides, the prospect of having to y off to battle the Luftwaffe must have made Aunt Charlottes wrath seem relatively inconsequential. No, I havent yet decided what Ill do, I told Simon, in response to his question. But I do know I could never be as brave as you. Just getting into an aeroplane again . . . let alone being a ghter pilot! I may not end up a ghter pilot, he said, or any kind of pilot at all. It depends on how my basic training goes. But I dont think women in the air force do any ying its mostly administration.You could do that. Theres no point in me aiming for any of the services, I said. Aunt Charlotte would never agree, shed think the uniforms too unladylike. Anyway, theres so much to do here right now, Ive barely had time to think about it.
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For one thing, theres the blackout to organise. Every single window and skylight and glass door at Milford Park needs to be covered up at night, so that not a sliver of light can escape (apparently, anything more than a pinpoint could act as a beacon for German bombers). On Friday morning, I went around with Barnes, Aunt Charlottes maid, to measure all the windows, and there were three hundred and seventeen of them, not including the gatehouse and the stables and the hothouses. There wasnt enough black material in the whole of Salisbury to cover them, but we bought what we could nd and have started making curtains. Meanwhile, the groundsmen are busy constructing wooden shutters for those upstairs rooms that are hardly ever used, and Parker, the chauffeur, has made little masks to t over the headlights of the motor cars, and has painted all the running boards and mudguards white, according to the regulations. Then there are our evacuees, the poor little things. Theyre all from the East End and have never been out of London before. One small boy had a screaming t when he stepped off the bus and came face to face with a cow. (Shed been painted with white stripes to prevent her getting knocked over by motorists in the dark, so I suppose she looked a bit odd.) I went down to the village on Friday afternoon to help with the billeting arrangements but, fortunately, there wasnt much to do, nearly all the children being scooped up at once by villagers who remembered our Basque refugees and were eager to help. The only ones left were four brothers who refused to be separated the eldest said hed promised their mum that theyd stay together, no matter what. They looked so pitiful, cardboard labels strung around their necks, gas masks dangling from their bony shoulders, all their clothes
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stuffed inside a single pillowcase that the eldest was hugging ercely to his chest. In the end, they went off to the rectory with the Reverend Webster Herbert. Aunt Charlotte decided against billeting any of the children at Milford Park, of course in fact, I suspect she agreed to be the district head of the Womens Voluntary Service precisely so that she would be the one to get to make those sorts of decisions. She did put eight of the youngest children, accompanied by their expectant mothers, in the Old Mill House, which was recently vacated by its tenants . . . Oh, and here comes Aunt Charlotte now, back from church, and in a rotten mood by the sound of it. Will nish this later.

After luncheon, which was not very pleasant (the conversation, that is, not the food although even that was not up to its usual standard, the cook having had her pastry-making interrupted by the air raid alert). It appears that at least half the evacuee children are infested with lice, and quite a few are bed-wetters. They are all desperately homesick, and crowded round Aunt Charlotte this morning, begging to be sent back to London. Also, two little girls turned out to be Jewish, and were horried to be offered bacon and eggs for breakfast. Quite right, said Henry. Eating pigs is cruel and disgusting. It ought to be illegal. And they refused to attend church this morning, Aunt Charlotte went on over the top of Henry (our aunt considers vegetarians to be almost as objectionable as Communists). Poor Mrs Heggarty is at her wits end. She asked the girls to run up to the shop yesterday for some more sugar so she could make a pudding, and they said they couldnt run errands
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because it was the Sabbath! It really is astounding, that children could be so ungrateful when theyve been rescued from certain death. I suppose you heard the air raid siren this morning? Well, that may have been a false alarm, but one can be certain the Germans will start bombarding our cities any moment now. Aunt Charlotte sighed. One would think the children could show a little more appreciation, being taken from those horrid slums and given a holiday in the fresh country air. But one cant expect much else from the lower classes. Because the upper classes have maltreated them for so long that theyve lost any hope of improving their condition? offered Veronica. Luckily, Aunt Charlotte, up the other end of the table, misheard her. Yes, youre quite right, its a thankless task, but one must do what one can for the good of the nation. I only wish Pamela Bosworth could comprehend the enormous weight of responsibility that has fallen upon WVS leaders such as myself. She was complaining yesterday about running a couple of rst aid classes for the Red Cross! Thats nothing at all, a few hours a week, compared to labouring night and day to help these wretched evacuees! And all of this, of course, on top of ones usual duties, right at the moment when half of ones staff decides to run off . . . Here she xed Simon with a gimlet eye, which was most unfair. After all, she was the one who ordered Simon to enlist in the RAF to keep watch over Toby (not that the air force even works that way, when the two of them are at different levels of training, and could end up at opposite ends of the country). But it wasnt Simons fault that hed have to give up typing Aunt Charlottes correspondence, keeping track of her committee meetings and doing a thousand and one other administrative
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tasks for her. I just hoped she wasnt expecting Veronica or me to take over from him. My secretary, three of the footmen, ve gardeners, a scullery maid and the stableboy, all gone! declared Aunt Charlotte. Then she turned to Henry. And, as if that werent bad enough, your governess has just resigned. Really? said Henry with interest. Miss Bullocks leaving? Enlisted in the Auxiliary Territorial Service, if you please! Id have thought shed be a bit old to join the womens army, said Henry. Old? said Aunt Charlotte, frowning. The woman is barely thirty. Exactly, said Henry. Ancient. Aunt Charlotte (at least fteen years older than that) started to puff up with indignation. I quickly passed her the butter dish, even though she hadnt asked for it, and it seemed to work as a diversion at rst. But then Toby said, Well, poor old Miss Bullock should nd army life pretty easy after two years of you, Hen. Perhaps the ATS could use you as a sort of one-girl training scheme, a means of toughening up new recruits and weeding out the Ow! See what I mean? Henrietta, dont hit your brother! snapped Aunt Charlotte. You ought to know better, but apparently none of your governesses has managed to teach you any ladylike behaviours whatsoever! Our aunt tore her bread roll apart and began stabbing at the butter. And theres not a prayer of nding anyone else remotely suitable for the position, with things the way they are.
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Will I be going to the village school then? asked Henry. That would be quite good, because my friend Jocko Dont be absurd, said Aunt Charlotte sharply. Your manners are bad enough as they are. I will not have you consorting with a lot of village children, not to mention all those evacuees and how they are all to t into that little schoolhouse, I havent the faintest idea. No, Henrietta, I will have to locate a suitable educational establishment for you. Boarding school, I translated for Henry, because she was looking puzzled. Oh, she said. Oh, no, I dont think I want to go away to school, thank you. Carlos would miss me too much, and Mr Wilkin needs me to help with the chickens and cows and things, now that his sons been called up. I do not recall asking for your opinion, Henrietta, said Aunt Charlotte. My mind is made up. Also, theres Estella, said Henry. Some people think pigs dont have feelings, but she gets very upset if I dont have a chat with her every single day and take her for walks and Henrietta! You may leave the table! Henry obeyed, in the slowest possible manner, and could be heard muttering mutinously as she stomped down the hall. Meanwhile, Toby had poured himself more wine, and I saw Aunt Charlotte narrow her eyes as she tried to recall whether it was his second or third glass. On any other day, Simon would have jumped in at that point and steered the conversation into safer waters, but he was gloomily chasing a solitary pea around the edge of his plate. And then I remembered. It was his birthday.
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He was twenty-ve years old today, and hed just learned he was expected to go off and put himself in terrible danger and try to kill people, simply because a lot of politicians couldnt get along with one another. Poor, poor Simon! How unlucky for him to have been born a boy! And poor Toby, too. I thought a bit more. Poor Henry, as well. And poor Aunt Charlotte. Poor all of us. As I said, it was a pretty depressing meal.

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