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"He's tried."
"What have they done to deserve this?"
"It's not them, particularly. There are thousands of German Jews in the same position. Only a few get visas."
"I'm so sorry." Daisy was more than sorry. She squirmed with embarrassment when she recalled how she and Boy had supported the Fascists in the early days. Her doubts had grown rapidly as the brutality of Fascism at home and abroad had become more and more obvious, and in the end she had been relieved when Fitz had complained that they were embarrassing him and had begged them to leave Mosley's party. Now Daisy felt she had been an utter fool ever to join in the first place.
Boy was not quite so repentant. He still thought that upper-class white Europeans formed a superior species, chosen by God to rule the earth. But he no longer believed that was a practical political philosophy. He was often infuriated by British democracy, but he did not advocate abolishing it.
They sat down to dinner early. "Neville is making a statement in the House of Commons at half past seven," Fitz said. Neville Chamberlain was prime minister. "I want to see it--I shall sit in the peers' gallery. I may have to leave you before dessert."
Andy said: "What do you think will happen, Papa?"
"I really don't know," Fitz said with a touch of exasperation. "Of course we would all like to avoid a war, but it's important not to give an impression of indecision."
Daisy was surprised: Fitz believed in loyalty and rarely criticized his government colleagues, even as obliquely as this.
Princess Bea said: "If there is a war, I shall go and live in Ty Gwyn."
Fitz shook his head. "If there is a war, the government will ask owners of large country houses to put them at the disposal of the military for the duration. As a member of the government I must set an example. I shall have to lend Ty Gwyn to the Welsh Rifles for use as a training center, or possibly a hospital."
Bea was outraged. "But it is my country house!"
"We may reserve a small part of the premises for private use."
"I don't choose to live in a small part of the premises--I am a princess!"
"It might be cozy. We could use the butler's pantry as a kitchen, and the breakfast room as a dining room, plus three or four of the smaller bedrooms."
"Cozy!" Bea looked disgusted, as if something unpleasant had been set before her, but she said no more.
Andy said: "Presumably Boy and I will have to join the Welsh Rifles."
May made a noise in her throat like a sob.
Boy said: "I shall join the air force."
Fitz was shocked. "But you can't. The Viscount Aberowen has always been in the Welsh Rifles."
"They haven't got any planes. The next war will be an air war. The RAF will be desperate for pilots. And I've been flying for years."
Fitz was about to argue, but the butler came in and said: "The car is ready, my lord."
Fitz looked at the clock on the mantelpiece. "Dash it, I've got to go. Thank you, Grout." He looked at Boy. "Don't make a final decision until we've talked some more. This is not right."
"Very well, Papa."
Fitz looked at Bea. "Forgive me, my dear, for leaving in the middle of dinner."
"Of course," she said.
Fitz got up from the table and walked to the door. Daisy noticed his limp, a grim reminder of what the last war had done.
The rest of dinner was gloomy. They were all wondering whether the prime minister would declare war.
When the ladies got up to withdraw, May asked Andy to take her arm. He excused himself to the two remaining men, saying: "My wife is in a delicate condition." It was the usual euphemism for pregnancy.
Boy said: "I wish my wife were as quick to get delicate."
