Chapter 345: Chapter 345
In London, the first edition hit the stands before the ink could settle.
PRIME MINISTER MEETS CHANCELLOR — HOPE FOR PEACE AS TALKS CONTINUE
Editorials began to write themselves. Fresh chapters posted on ⓝovelFire.net
In clubs and offices men said, "Good," the way people say it when they are relieved to have a sentence to repeat.
Churchill sat with three MPs in a side room off a corridor that always smelled of carpet dust.
The door was half shut.
"He'll bring back a paper," said a man with a face like a clenched fist. "They'll wave it at us like a talisman."
"He'll bring back the best he can," Churchill said. "That is not the same as what is needed."
The youngest of the three looked at his hands. "The country wants to believe him," he said.
"The country wants to sleep," Churchill said. "It is not a sin. But it is not a plan."
Duff Cooper came in, closed the door with his heel, and dropped a file on the table. "War Office notes," he said. "Quiet rail movements. Not as quiet as yesterday."
Churchill didn't open it. "He will be met at Heston by cameras. He will say 'hope.' The City will go up six points. And the map will keep its secrets."
"We can't go out and denounce him," the clenched-fist MP said. "Not while he's trying."
"I do not propose to denounce him," Churchill said. "I propose to prepare the country for the day he realizes he tried too late."
They sat in the small room listening to the House outside them.
"How many can you count?" Cooper asked.
"Enough to be a nuisance," Churchill said. "Not enough to be inevitable. Yet."
"Yet," the youngest repeated, as if testing the word for use later.
Midnight in the Berghof was a sharper black than London ever managed.
The rain had left everything clean and hard.
Chamberlain sat at a small desk in a guest room designed to make visitors feel tidy or inadequate.
He wrote a few lines to Halifax: Spoke at length.
Secured public statement of non-aggression intent.
Further talks required.
Will return tomorrow for consultations.
He did not write what he thought.
He is not done moving.
Instead he folded the paper and sealed it.
He slept briefly, the way a man sleeps on a ship.
Hitler did not sleep.
He paced a little and then stopped, content.
Ribbentrop stood by the window with a cigarette he didn't light.
"He believes himself sincere," Hitler said. "It is a pity. Sincerity is a bad guide."
Ribbentrop smiled to the glass. "He will go home with something to show. It is important that he can show it."
"Yes," Hitler said. "I want him to be able to show it." He turned from the window. "In two weeks they will call him wise again."
"And us?" Ribbentrop asked.
"They will call us reasonable," Hitler said, and looked pleased. "For at least a fortnight."
Chamberlain's plane touched down at Heston into a gust that rocked it once and set it right.
The crowd was larger than before.
The line of cameras looked like artillery that had learned to click.
He descended, papers in his hand.
Held like a letter from one neighbour to another.
"I have had a useful exchange," he said to the microphones. "We have agreed on the principle of non-aggression in Europe. There will be further discussions. I believe we have found grounds for hope."
The small cheer that went up sounded like people comforting one another.
In the War Office a clerk read the lines off a ticker and wrote them on a board.
The colonel from the map room rubbed his forehead with the heel of his hand and said, to no one, "Good for markets." Then he went back to the pins.
Churchill watched the newsreel later in a small screening room with bad seats.
He leaned forward with his hands steepled, elbows on knees.
When Chamberlain said "hope," Churchill flinched and then smoothed it away.
A friend beside him whispered, "He looks tired."
Churchill then called a journalist he trusted. "You'll praise him," he said, "and that is right. Add one line 'We must not be unprepared if hope fails to translate into safety.' Put it near the top. Make it sound dull. People will remember dull when they need it."
He called an Air Ministry contact. "If you must save money, save it on everything that doesn't fly," he said, and hung up before an argument could rise.
He called a backbencher who was brave twice a year. "This is one of your days," he said. "Stand up and say: 'We greet the Prime Minister's effort. We also expect a plan for the day it is not enough.' Say it as if you were asking for the time."
He called Clementine and said he would be late.
That afternoon the House filled again, not for debate but for appearances.
Chamberlain stood at the dispatch box with the sheet in his hand.
The words were careful and undemanding.
"We have agreed that our nations desire peace," he said. "We have agreed to pursue our disputes, where they exist, by negotiation. I believe further conversations will yield further assent."
"Bravo," from the benches behind him. "At last," from somewhere loud and sincere.
Attlee stood, understated as ever. "We welcome any step that lessens the risk of war," he said. "We ask also for transparency in what follows and for readiness should events not favour good intentions."
No one cheered either.
Churchill spoke briefly, and without theatre. "The Prime Minister has done what a decent Englishman could do," he said. "I applaud the attempt. I ask the House to remember that decency must be matched by diligence. We will need plans as well as promises."
The benches managed a noise that wasn't quite approval and wasn't contempt.
It was a noise that said, We hear you but do not want to be told this, not yet.
Outside, the evening papers produced big type and tidy verbs.
PM SECURES PEACE PLEDGE — TALKS TO CONTINUE
NON-AGGRESSION IN EUROPE — NEW ERA POSSIBLE