Free The FitzOsbornes at War by Michelle Cooper Page B

you to accompany me as an interpreter’, even though he speaks perfectly good Spanish. Then it always turns out that the Spanish businessman or government official whom they’re meeting either knew Veronica’s grandfather (who was a Spanish duke), or her mother, Isabella (who seems to have been the Spanish equivalent of Debutante of the Year, with a dash of Tallulah Bankhead). The lunchtime conversations never appear to have anything to do with the war or the government, but her boss says that maintaining amicable relations with influential Spaniards is helping keep Spain away from the Germans and out of the war. I asked Veronica if the Spaniards were all ardent Fascists, because I couldn’t imagine her being polite to them if they were, but she said they don’t seem to be. Although perhaps they’re simply toning down their Fascism while they’re here, so the British will agree to help them rebuild their country? Things must be in a dreadful mess over there, after three years of civil war. One wouldn’t think Spain would be in any position to join another war, just yet. Anyway, Veronica says that she enjoys her work because there’s always some fascinating political argument raging about the office, as well as interesting archives to read in her spare moments.
    The other advantage of her job is that her office at Whitehall is just down the road from Daniel’s. One of the first jobs his department did was to translate some propaganda into German, informing the German people that their Nazi leadership was corrupt, insane, bankrupt and doomed to lose the war. Then the RAF dropped millions of these leaflets all over Germany. I’m not sure what this was meant to achieve. Dampen general morale? Inspire the population to rise up and overthrow Hitler? I expect the Germans are using the leaflets as loo paper. Still, Daniel’s colleagues must have done good work, because when Goering gave a speech about the ‘laughable flyleaves’ that Britain keeps dumping on his country, he had to admit they were written in excellent German. Goering said they must have been produced by Jews and ‘other scoundrels’, which made Daniel laugh. Daniel also found it amusing that when the newspaper reporters here asked what the pamphlets said, the British government refused to tell them. The government spokesman claimed it was classified information, and that to tell the British press about it would be to risk valuable knowledge reaching the enemy – even though about six million of the pamphlets had just been dropped on Germany.
    Apparently, it also benefits the enemy if the government tells British citizens where their recently arrived relatives are being imprisoned, because Daniel still doesn’t know where his cousins are, or when they will be released. Daniel keeps saying truth is the first casualty of war, which I think is a quote from someone important, but could simply be his own Socialist cynicism coming to the fore. I am beginning to see his point, though.

5th December, 1939
    T HE C OLONEL CAME TO SEE me at work today. I think he’s the only person in the world, with the possible exception of the Minister of Food himself, who could have persuaded Miss Halliday to let me start my luncheon break fifteen minutes early. Felicity and Anne pricked up their ears and craned their heads towards the door when they heard, subsiding (only slightly) when they saw the Colonel was old enough to be my father. Perhaps I ought to have explained to them that he very nearly was my father. Although I suppose if he’d married my mother, I’d be an entirely different person – not a FitzOsborne, perhaps not even a Sophie.
    I waited till he and I had signed ourselves out at the Ministry desk and stepped into Portman Square before I said, ‘Well?’
    ‘Well, what?’ he said. ‘I just happened to be passing by and thought we might go for a stroll in Hyde Park. As it’s such a lovely day.’
    I glanced around. It wasn’t actually raining, but the