It was now time for the princess to return to Windsor Castle. Her detective appeared as if by magic.
‘I’m ready, Mr Giles,’ she said.
She shook hands with each of the young officers.
‘Remember,’ she said. ‘No more wars.’
Lady Astor accompanied the princess to her car. Left alone, the young men relaxed. They stood looking out over the great view, reluctant to leave.
‘So where do you go next, Rupert?’ said Bundy.
‘India. Mountbatten’s taking command out there.’
‘Me, I’m in London until the second front.’
‘Pray it may come soon,’ said the Russian.
‘My dad says one more year,’ said Bundy, ‘and it’ll all be over.’
Troyanovsky took out a pack of cigarettes and offered them to the others. They both declined. He lit up, and inhaled deeply.
‘Your princess,’ he said to Rupert, ‘she is charming.’
‘I agree,’ said Rupert. ‘I thought she was lovely.’
‘No life for a girl, though,’ said Bundy. ‘She should be out every night dancing, not fretting over the future of the world.’
‘Leave that to Lady Astor,’ said Rupert.
They laughed at that. Then the Russian shook his head.
‘What she said to Stalin, that I find it hard to believe.’
‘But she’s right,’ said Bundy.
Troyanovsky puffed on his cigarette, frowning.
‘The day will come,’ he said slowly, ‘when you will ask yourself not what is right, but what is possible.’
‘Who’s the pragmatist now?’ said Bundy.
‘I think I can claim that honour,’ said Rupert, peacemaking. ‘We British have a long history of calling a spade a spade, and then getting some other fellow to do the digging.’
Bundy smiled his smile at that.
‘But your princess,’ said Troyanovsky, ‘what she said to us, that was good. No more wars.’
‘We’re all with you there,’ said Bundy.
‘So we must make it be so,’ said the Russian. ‘We three.’
He put out one large hand. Rupert understood his meaning, and clasped it. After a moment Bundy put his hand on top of theirs.
A solitary plane appeared in the far distance and buzzed slowly across the sky. The sun dropped below the clouds and threw shafts of golden light over the landscape. Rupert felt a sudden rush of fellow feeling for the other two. Partly it was this odd triple hand-clasp that they seemed unable to break, and partly the conviction that such a moment would never come again. There really was a symbolic power to their presence, joined together on the long terrace, looking out over England.
‘No more wars,’ said Rupert. ‘Wouldn’t that just be something?’
COMING JANUARY 2014
Motherland Page 47
