Gerald, who had been listening acutely, looked as if he was about to make a caustic retort. But he thought better of it, stood up, and took his plate to the sideboard to serve himself more food. A malicious gleam entered his dark brown eyes and his posture was arrogant as he moved ponderously from dish to dish.
Edwin’s face was radiant as he turned his shining eyes on his father and smiled. He had been vindicated for once and he had found an unexpected ally in his father.
Adam smiled kindly at his younger son. ‘Do you understand what the Free Trade Question is all about, Edwin?’ Adam asked.
‘I think so, Father. Isn’t it about taxing food and other goods?’
‘Yes. But it’s also a little more complicated than that. You see, the Protectionists, led by Chamberlain, are trying to persuade the government to abandon the system of Free Trade and cheap food which this country has thrived upon for so long. They want to impose tariffs and taxation on all goods to protect the English manufacturers against so-called foreign competition.’ Adam paused, and then continued, ‘It might make some sense if we were in a slump, but our industries are enjoying a ruddy health right now. That’s one reason why Chamberlain’s bill is preposterous, as a great majority of us realize. It would be disastrous for the country. First of all, everyone fears it would mean dearer food. That would not affect us, of course, or people of our station in life. However, it is a very real fear to the working-class housewife, who sees the price of meat and bread increasing. Apart from this, there is a general belief, especially among Liberals, that free trade is the only way to preserve international peace and understanding. There’s an old saying that comes to mind, Edwin, “If goods do not cross frontiers, armies will.” Churchill understands these essential points. He has said time and time again that the Protectionists are wrong in economics, wrong in political conceptions, and most frighteningly wrong in their estimate of public opinion. He’s right, my boy.’
‘What will happen, Father?’ Edwin queried.
‘I think we are going to witness a bitter and bloody battle between the Tariff Reform League, which supports Joe Chamberlain, and the Unionist Free Food League created by the Unionist Free-Traders, who oppose him. The Duke of Devonshire is the president of the latter group and he’s gathered many distinguished Conservatives around him, including Churchill.’
‘Do you think they will win? Churchill’s group?’
‘I certainly hope so, Edwin, for the sake of the country.’
‘But the House is divided, isn’t it, Father?’
‘Indeed it is. And the Tory Party. That’s why I said I felt trouble was brewing. Arthur Balfour is attempting to sit on the fence, but that won’t do him much good. He may well find himself out of 10 Downing Street sooner than he expects.’
Gerald returned to the table noisily and he sat down so abruptly and so heavily the table rocked, the china and silver rattled, and tea splashed out of his cup, staining the white tablecloth with an ugly dark patch. Adam observed Gerald with immense coldness, and glared at him, his annoyance mounting. ‘Really, Gerald! Do try to be a little more mannerly at the table. And don’t you think you ought to curb yourself? This unrestrained gorging of food is not good for your health. It’s also perfectly disgusting!’
The boy chose to ignore this mild chastisement, reached for the pepper pot, and generously seasoned his food. ‘Mother says I have a normal appetite for a growing boy,’ he remarked smugly. Adam bit back an acerbic comment and sipped his tea.
As he ate, Gerald glanced at his father cagily. ‘To return to our earlier discussion, Father. I’m sure you’ll agree that as gentlemen we can have differences of opinion without resorting to quarrels.’ Adam flinched at this pretentiousness as Gerald went on talking. ‘I just wanted to say that I still don’t think much of Churchill, in spite of your comments to the contrary. After all, who does he represent? A lot of cotton spinners in clogs and shawls!’
‘That’s not strictly true, Gerald. And don’t be too hasty to dismiss the working classes. Times are changing.’
‘You sound like one of the new socialists, Father. Bathtubs for the workers? You know they would only put coal in them.’
‘That’s a snide and ridiculous story which has gone around lately, Gerald, put out by those antiquated diehards who are afraid of changes in this country,’ Adam said cuttingly. ‘But it is only a story and I’m dismayed you would give it dignity by repeating it. I had expected better of you, Gerald.’
Gerald grinned fatuously, but his narrowed eyes were hostile. ‘Don’t tell me you’re intending to give the Fairley workers bathtubs, Father.’
Adam looked at his son icily. ‘No, I’m not. But I’ve always tried to improve conditions at the mill, as you well know, and I shall certainly continue to do so.’
‘Well, don’t bother,’ Gerald exclaimed heatedly. ‘The men are restless enough as it is. Keep ’em down and working hard and hungry. It keeps ’em out of trouble and under our control.’
‘That’s not a very admirable motto, Gerald, or a very farsighted policy either,’ Adam snapped. ‘But we shall discuss the mill later. In the meantime, I would like to point out that you’ve a lot to learn about human nature and the workers, my boy. They’ve been treated abominably in the past. More reform has to come, and I hope it does so without too much bloodshed.’
‘You’d better not let your friends in the wool trade hear you talking like that, or they’ll castigate you as a traitor to your class, sir,’ Gerald responded.
‘Don’t be impertinent!’ his father exclaimed, his eyes flashing with chilly silvery lights. Adam, who rarely lost his temper, was in danger of doing so now. But he took control of himself and poured another cup of tea. Because of his fatigue and mental weariness his patience was worn threadbare, and his nerves were far too close to the surface for his own comfort.
Gerald grinned and winked at Edwin, who was gazing at him in astonishment after this exceptional display of insolence. He was horrified at Gerald’s effrontery, and he looked from his father to Gerald, and then dropped his eyes.
Infuriated, but in command of himself, Adam opened the newspaper and was about to disappear behind it, when Edwin, conscious of his father’s disquiet and in an effort to distract him, said, ‘Did you know Kitchener when you were in the army, Father?’
‘No, I didn’t, Edwin. Why do you ask?’ Adam queried with impatience. He put the paper down, staring at Edwin curiously.
‘I read a story yesterday about him clashing with Lord Curzon in India. Did you see the story in The Times, Father? I wondered exactly why they are always at loggerheads? Do you know, sir?’
‘Yes, I did see the story, Edwin, and the chief reason those two are always arguing is because when Kitchener went to India as Commander in Chief of the British army he took it upon himself to redistribute the troops. He rapidly gained greater administrative control of the army and the Viceroy was opposed to that, and still opposes it, I might add. Curzon’s met his match there, I’m afraid. Kitchener’s not a man to be thwarted. He’ll have his way, come hell or high water.’
‘You don’t like Kitchener, do you, Father?’ Edwin suggested.
‘I wouldn’t say that, my boy. But why do you assume such a thing?’
‘You