Bend with the Wind by Peter Rimmer

Author:Peter Rimmer [Rimmer, Peter]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kamba Publishing

* * *

Henry Beaumont turned the page of yesterday’s copy of The Times, crumpling the flimsy pages so that he was forced to put down his half-eaten piece of toast. After a few moments of irritating straightening he was able to continue reading the report on page four.

“Bloody Huns,” he said to the empty breakfast table and the clock on the mantelpiece strenuously chimed eight, sonorous notes. Henry looked at the clock until it had finished chiming, picked up his piece of toast and without looking at what he was doing, crunched a mouthful and left his teeth marks clearly in the butter. The fire crackled in the grate opposite the heavily laden sideboards with rows of covered dishes kept hot by mentholated spirit burners. Down the centre of the starched white tablecloth, laid for ten, clustered pots of marmalade, sugar bowls, butter dishes and jugs of freshly made tomato juice.

Henry put down the newspaper and got up to pour himself a third cup of tea. He dropped in one lump of sugar and sat back at the table, automatically adjusting his old school square. Henry Beaumont had a fetish about not sitting down to Sunday breakfast in his churchgoing clothes. He preferred to change later. Back in his newspaper and the last piece of his toast, he ignored the opening door.

“Morning, Henry.”

“Oh,” said Henry looking up. “Morning, Reggie. Bloody Huns are spoiling for a war.”

“Yesterday’s paper?”

“The devilled kidneys are delicious.”

Reggie walked down the sideboard and lifted the covers. “Scrambled eggs,” said Reggie.

“Ducks’ eggs,” said Henry without looking up.

“Ever tried ostrich?”

“No.”

“Tea’s stewed.”

“Ring the bell. I like it, anyway. Drink coffee. You’re up early.”

“Built in alarm clock.”

“Cold outside. Lawns as white as snow.”

“Hoar frost. How’s the bloodstock?”

“That foal of Lilliputs’s is going to be a winner,” said Henry putting away the paper now he had found a topic, that interested him. “After next season, Lilliput’s going out to full-time stud. That’s where the money lies. There’s an auction next week. Merry Hall’s putting up twelve yearlings. Should make money if the blighters aren’t thinking about war. If there is one, you’ll be in the R.A.F. Fast as that.”

“Yes.”

“What happens to your business?”

“Chuck’s coming to run it. Roosevelt’s keeping the Americans out of a European war. Why fight other people’s wars?”

“Exactly. And why are we saying we’ll fight Poland’s?”

“Something about the balance of power.”

“An air war will be bad for civilians. Article here says the German Air Force can bomb London to pieces in a week.”

“Doubt it. They’ve got to get there. Our Hurricanes are first class and three of the squadrons are flying Spitfires. That’s an aeroplane.”

“Think we can stop them?”

“Of course, old boy,” said Reggie sitting down with a full plate of scrambled eggs, kidneys, bacon, tomatoes and sausages. “Just because the R.A.F. behave a little mad doesn’t mean we can’t fly aeroplanes. Anyway, it’ll be us knocking the holy shit out of Berlin. Our Lancasters and Blenheims are first rate. Berlin and back with a full bomb load.”

“Crazy bloody world.

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