Dominion (81 page)

‘No,’ Attlee said bluntly. ‘Because you’re poison. You always were.’

By the time Beaverbrook and his people left to consult the rest of their Cabinet, the Resistance leaders knew they had won. The others were jubilant but Churchill looked tired.
After a few minutes he asked the others to leave him alone with Colville. When they had gone he got up, slowly and painfully, and went to sit in an armchair. ‘Whisky, Jock,’ he said
wearily. ‘Pour one for yourself.’ He stuck a cigar between his teeth, lit it and bit down on it hard.

Colville stood beside him. Churchill stared out of the window at the leaf-strewn lawn, his face sombre. ‘There will be fighting,’ he said. ‘Maybe very soon. Mosley won’t
just go. Little Beaverbrook’s people are unimportant now, as I said, but Mosley and his men have guns. And some of the Auxiliaries will support him.’

‘Not all,’ Colville answered. ‘Some have come over to us already. Remember that Inspector Syme, who was involved in the Muncaster affair? He was hit in the leg, but
survived?’ Churchill grunted and nodded. ‘He approached us last month, he knows a lot of the key people who can be expected to jump our way. We might give him a role in the new police
force, behind the scenes.’

‘The devils we have to deal with,’ Churchill growled. He seemed sunk in gloom, his ‘black dog’ had entered the room again. He said, ‘Who knows, Beaverbrook may even
tell his people to come and arrest us tonight.’

‘They won’t, sir. They know they’re finished. They’ll try to save their own skins now, hold on to what they can. It might be an idea, though, to ask the Americans to say
they would welcome a change of government in Britain. They said it of France yesterday.’

‘Good idea.’ Churchill nodded, encouraged. ‘Telephone the White House now.’

Colville hesitated. ‘It’ll need to be put carefully. Stevenson is different from the isolationist Presidents, but he’s frightened of a revolution in Europe. And Beaverbrook was
right. When the Fascists resist we will need to – what did they say in the Spanish Civil War? Arm the workers?’

‘They’re armed already. And Attlee and Bevan’s people are committed to free elections, they always have been.’ Churchill nodded. ‘And soon we shall have them
again.’ He glowered at Colville. ‘What about these Russian rumours? That Khruschev has been overthrown?’

‘I think they may be true, sir. Sections of the KGB and state industries say they’ve taken over Moscow and are going to create a capitalist state, like the one the Germans planned
for Russia east of Astrakhan, only bigger, and nationalist. It’ll be popular. The Russians don’t want communism back.’

‘Who’s in charge of this?’

‘A couple of unknowns. The mayor of Moscow and a KGB man. My guess is such a regime would be pretty corrupt. The Soviet Union certainly was. Poland and the Baltics have declared their
independence, by the way. They’re fighting both Germans and Russians.’

Churchill shook his head sadly. ‘So it will go on, at least for a time, the endless suffering. If only we had stood firm in 1940, it could all have been over by now.’ He bowed his
head.

Colville asked, ‘Will you stand for Prime Minister in the election here?’

‘I don’t know. Old age is the devil. Especially without my Clemmie.’ Churchill was silent a moment, then looked sharply up at Colville. ‘But if I don’t it should be
Macmillan for the Conservatives, not Eden. Anthony’s not up to it.’

‘It could be Bevan for Labour. A lot of their people want him, say Attlee is too old, too moderate. They could win. Full-blooded socialism.’

‘If that’s what the people choose, it is up to them. So long as these vile years of bloodshed and oppression can be brought to an end.’ Churchill relapsed into silence again,
staring into space. After a minute Colville said gently, ‘Would you like me to leave you, sir? Set up the call to Washington?’

‘The Muncaster affair,’ Churchill said. ‘The man who knew the secrets of the atom bomb. You remember him?’

‘Yes, sir. He died in that shootout in Sussex.’

Churchill grunted. ‘A brave man. Took his secret to the grave rather than let the Germans have it.’ He looked at Colville sharply. ‘There were those of us who badly wanted to
prise the secret out of him, hoping to set up our own nuclear programme.’

Colville sighed. ‘Well, the secret will spread eventually, it must. God help civilization then.’

Churchill shook his head. ‘We were so afraid the Germans might get hold of what Muncaster knew, remember? But it wouldn’t have mattered in the end, would it? They’d never have
had time to develop the Bomb before their whole regime collapsed into civil war.’

‘We didn’t know that then,’ Colville said. ‘We didn’t know it would all fall to pieces so soon.’

Churchill grunted. ‘Well, only America has the Bomb now. The mission succeeded. What happened to the rest of those people, by the way? That woman from – where was it?’

‘Slovakia. She went back there in the spring. Just before the Slovak army rose against the Fascists.’

‘There’s still fighting there, isn’t there?’

‘Yes. It’s pretty savage, I hear.’

‘And the others? The English civil servant and the Scot? I met them with Muncaster that night, I remember. The Englishman’s wife got away too, didn’t she?’

‘Yes. They were all questioned pretty closely in America, I know that. Muncaster’s older brother was dead by then. He had a stroke, in custody.’

‘That whole family gone, then?’

‘Yes. There were some questions about the Scot – he was a Communist. I think he got sent to Canada. He lost an arm in that fight. The other man and his wife got a clean bill of
health, permission to stay in the States. I don’t know what happened to them after that.’ He smiled. ‘Maybe they’ll come back now.’

Churchill sat up. He looked more cheerful now. He banged a fist on the arm of his chair. ‘Yes. The exiles will be returning soon. To help us rebuild. Rebuild! We need them all
now.’

All novels, perhaps historical novels especially, are to some extent collaborative efforts.
Dominion
has benefited from the help of others more than most. First and
foremost I must thank my wonderful editor and agent, Maria Rejt of Mantle/Macmillan, and Antony Topping of Greene & Heaton, and their excellent staff – especially Sophie Orme, Ali
Blackburn and Susan Opie at Mantle and Chris Wellbelove at Greene & Heaton, who managed to track down a crucial 1999 Channel 4 documentary on the Great Smog of 1952.

My thanks to Maria and Antony are all the greater for their support when, following a long period of debilitating illness, which put the book behind schedule, I was diagnosed this year with
bone-marrow cancer. Along with treatment, their faith in the book and in me has allowed it to be finished in time for October 2012 publication.

Becky Smith once again did an astonishingly speedy and accurate job of typing. Olivia Williams carried out some crucial research for me in London when I was not well enough to go there, and I am
grateful for the excellent job she did.

Once again, I thank the group of friends who read the book in manuscript and commented on it comprehensively and perceptively as usual: Roz Brody, Mike Holmes, Jan King and William Shaw.

Lou Taylor, Professor of Dress and Textile History, and Dr Gillian Scott, both of the School of Humanities, University of Brighton, were very generous with their time in discussing aspects of
social history and fashion during the period from the 1930s to the 1950s, which helped greatly in my construction of an alternate universe.

My warm thanks to Dr Françoise Hutton for discussing the type of medication Frank might have been on, and the modern history of mental hospitals.

Robert Edwards was very helpful in sharing his great knowledge of Sussex for the scenes set there. Martin Foster advised me, a complete ignoramus on the subject, on some basics of radio
communication.

For the second book running, Rear-Admiral John Lippiett, Chief Executive of the Mary Rose Trust, helped me with naval matters, which are important at the end of the story, and I am grateful to
him for taking time out from his work in completing the final stages of the new Mary Rose Museum, which will be opening in 2013. (I can reassure him that in my planned next novel, Matthew Shardlake
will keep his feet firmly on dry land.) The Museum Appeal has done wonders in raising funds, but is still £400,000 short of its target. When finished, it will have on display the greatest
store of Tudor artefacts anywhere in the world, in a magnificent setting. More information and pictures can be found at www.maryrose.org. Donations for the final stages of the project can be sent
via the website or to The Mary Rose Trust, HM Naval Base, Portsmouth PO1 3LX.

Alan Purdie at the British Legion was very helpful in providing details which helped me construct the 1952 Remembrance Day Ceremony in Chapter One. It is a very different Remembrance Day in my
alternate universe, but I hope I managed to retain something of the atmosphere of respect which the ceremony deserves.

Any errors of fact in the book are, of course, my own responsibility.

Thanks to my friend Robyn Young for discussions of history and the strategy of book-writing, and support when times were tough. Thanks also to Paul Tempest and Peter Allinson for lending me
their house to work in while building works were taking place in mine. And last but not least, to Graham Brown of Fullertons for frequent bouts of photocopying and limitless supplies of
stationery.

Dominion
involved a greater range of background reading than any previous novel I have written.

On British social and political history from the 1930s to the 1950s, the most useful works were Angus Calder’s
The People’s War: Britain 1939–45
(1971), still I think
the best social history of wartime Britain. Also very useful were Juliet Gardiner’s
The Thirties:An Intimate History
(2010), and
Wartime Britain 1939–45
(2004), and
Richard Overy’s
The Morbid Age: Britain between the Wars
(2009).

Peter Hennessy’s
Never Again: Britain 1945–51
(1992) and
Having It So Good: Britain in the Fifties
(2000) are packed with fascinating information. David
Kynaston’s
Austerity Britain 1945–51
(2008) and
Family Britain 1951–57
(2010) were also very helpful. I think Kynaston’s insight that, culturally, Britain in
the decade following the Second World War retreated into a 1930s view on many social issues, is crucial. In the first decade after the war there were highly censorious attitudes to subjects like
illegitimacy, homosexuality and divorce, and the belief that women belonged in the home returned after the war. In my alternate universe Britain in 1952 is even more like the 1930s, and without the
social reforms and full employment created by the Attlee government of 1945–51.

On particular topics, Juliet Nicolson’s
The Great Silence
(2009) is a moving and evocative account of Britain coming to terms with the terrible losses of the First World War, which
so affected Sarah’s family in my book. Barbara Tate’s
West End Girls
(2010) is a fascinating and extraordinary memoir of life in a Soho brothel of the period, and Dilys’
establishment in
Dominion
owes it much. The Channel 4 documentary
Killer Fog
(1999) tells the extraordinary story of the Great Smog of 1952 evocatively and with compassion for the
many who died. Rupert Allason’s
The Branch
(1983) was a very useful brief introduction to the history of the Special Branch; though I suspect the author would disagree with my
portrayal of how the Branch might have developed in an authoritarian Britain, I see it as perfectly probable.

Many novels helped me in reimagining the period, notably those of Patrick Hamilton. (The roadhouse where David and his party stop on the way to Birmingham owes something to the Kings Head in the
third volume of his Gorse trilogy (1952–1955).) Norman Collins’ wonderful though sadly forgotten novel
London Belongs to Me
(1945) brings London uniquely to life during the
traumatic years 1938–40.
Noblesse Oblige,
ed. Nancy Mitford (1956) includes her hilarious essay on snobbery and the use of language in contemporary society.

The story of Britain between the 1930s and 1950s is partly the story of empire in decline. Jan Morris’
Farewell the Trumpets
(1976), the final volume of her Pax Britannica Trilogy,
was particularly useful and evocative. I read a number of accounts of Civil Service life during the period, of which the most useful was undoubtedly Joe Garner’s
The Commonwealth Office,
1925–68
(1968). Andrew Stewart’s
Britain and the Dominions in the Second World War
(2008) is a useful and informative recent academic study. Peter Hennessy’s
Whitehall
(1989) was also very helpful.

For Churchill and the crisis of May 1940, Roy Jenkins’
Churchill
(2001) is I think the best single-volume biography to date. John Charmley’s
Churchill: The End of Glory
(1993) is exhaustively well-informed though exhaustingly biased against Churchill. On the other hand, Madhusree Mukerjee’s
Churchill’s Secret War
(2010), telling of his
extraordinary callousness when it came to the Bengal famine of 1942, was a necessary douche of cold water for one like me who, remembering Churchill’s role in 1940, can perhaps incline to
being too reverential.

On the Cabinet discussions over whether to make peace in 1940 I found Andrew Roberts’
Eminent Churchillians
(1994) and
The Holy Fox: A Life of Lord Halifax
(1991) very
useful, along with John Lukacs’
Five Days in London: May 1940
(2001) and Ian Kershaw’s
Fateful Choices
(2007). Richard Overy’s
The Battle of Britain
was very
helpful at the early stages of my research. I had originally considered setting this book in a Britain where the proposed German invasion of Britain in 1940, Operation Sealion, had actually taken
place. There has been much debate as to whether it could have succeeded and Overy’s book finally convinced me that it could not.