Free Sweet Poison by David Roberts Page A

taking a communion service in place of my vicar, who was away. It was an ill-lit barn of a church in Middlesbrough and it was very hard for the priest to see how many people were intending to take communion. I was dependent on the church warden when he brought up the collection plate telling me the numbers. On this occasion – either I was nervous or he mumbled – but I thought he said thirty-three while in fact he had said twenty-three and of those twenty-three a majority were little old ladies who merely touched the wine with their lips and did not drink it. Imagine my horror when I saw that everyone had taken communion and I had almost a pint left in the chalice. As you know, the wine once it has been consecrated must be consumed, so I had no alternative but to drink it all down. It was not good wine and, like you, General, I felt very sick, but unlike you it was out of the question to give way to it. I think the sidesman seeing me stagger through the end of the sacrament thought I was drunk – as indeed I was – and reported me to the vicar. The latter rebuked me for being a fool and I think it was from that moment that I decided the grape and I were never going to be good friends – but,’ and the Bishop refilled his glass for the third time, ‘if I may say so, Duke, you are converting me.’ He smiled at his little joke. ‘This really is quite delicious. Even I can understand that you are paying us a rare compliment, Duke, and I thank you.’ He, as Weaver had done, raised his glass to the Duke and smiled benignly.
    The Duke wondered if Honoria would reprimand the poor man, as had the vicar all those years ago, when she smelt the wine on her lord’s breath that night.
    Von Friedberg was still thinking about the General’s story of Lord Kitchener and he interrupted Larmore, who wanted to recall for the assembled company the many great wines he had sampled in his life, by asking Craig if Kitchener had been as brave as legend had it.
    ‘Oh yes, brave, stalwart, obstinate, awkward – all these things – a very great soldier in my opinion, second only to my late commander, Field Marshal Earl Haig, God rest his soul, but unlike Haig, Kitchener was not suited to being a politician,’ said the General, shaking his head mournfully.
    They waited for him to elaborate but it seemed that the General, now deep in his own thoughts, was not going to provide examples of Kitchener’s battles with the politicians to prove his point, and the discussion turned to the nature of courage. The Duke, with half an eye on Friedberg, made an eloquent plea for politicians and soldiers to have the moral courage to restrain the ‘sabre rattling’ of their political leaders.
    Von Friedberg looked sour and went into a long tirade about Germany demanding its rightful place at the council tables of Europe. The Bishop chipped in to assure the German that most English people wanted his country to return to its position as a leading power in Europe, and Larmore hurried to agree.
    ‘So, that is what will happen,’ said the German sententiously. ‘Under the leadership of our great leader, Chancellor Adolf Hitler . . .’
    ‘And is it true you are expanding your army?’ asked Weaver, who had been noticeably silent, content to listen to the others and enjoy his port and cigar.
    ‘Certainly,’ said Friedberg pugnaciously. ‘We need a new model army like your Oliver Cromwell . . .’
    ‘Not my Oliver Cromwell,’ Weaver muttered but Friedberg did not hear him.
    ‘. . . and we will build aeroplanes and ships so that no one can say to us “You do this, you do that.” I may tell you in confidence, we have already . . . But no, the wine speaks, Duke, and makes me wish to be indiscreet.’ He simpered knowingly.
    The Bishop, his tongue loosened by the wine, said, ‘You make my blood run cold, Baron. I fear for all that I hold dear: humanitarianism, brotherly good will between nations and their leaders. These political creeds we see thriving