‘The Muncaster affair,’ Churchill said. ‘The man who knew the secrets of the atom bomb. You remember him?’
‘Yes, sir. He died in that shootout in Sussex.’
Churchill grunted. ‘A brave man. Took his secret to the grave rather than let the Germans have it.’ He looked at Colville sharply. ‘There were those of us who badly wanted to prise the secret out of him, hoping to set up our own nuclear programme.’
Colville sighed. ‘Well, the secret will spread eventually, it must. God help civilization then.’
Churchill shook his head. ‘We were so afraid the Germans might get hold of what Muncaster knew, remember? But it wouldn’t have mattered in the end, would it? They’d never have had time to develop the Bomb before their whole regime collapsed into civil war.’
‘We didn’t know that then,’ Colville said. ‘We didn’t know it would all fall to pieces so soon.’
Churchill grunted. ‘Well, only America has the Bomb now. The mission succeeded. What happened to the rest of those people, by the way? That woman from – where was it?’
‘Slovakia. She went back there in the spring. Just before the Slovak army rose against the Fascists.’
‘There’s still fighting there, isn’t there?’
‘Yes. It’s pretty savage, I hear.’
‘And the others? The English civil servant and the Scot? I met them with Muncaster that night, I remember. The Englishman’s wife got away too, didn’t she?’
‘Yes. They were all questioned pretty closely in America, I know that. Muncaster’s older brother was dead by then. He had a stroke, in custody.’
‘That whole family gone, then?’
‘Yes. There were some questions about the Scot – he was a Communist. I think he got sent to Canada. He lost an arm in that fight. The other man and his wife got a clean bill of health, permission to stay in the States. I don’t know what happened to them after that.’ He smiled. ‘Maybe they’ll come back now.’
Churchill sat up. He looked more cheerful now. He banged a fist on the arm of his chair. ‘Yes. The exiles will be returning soon. To help us rebuild. Rebuild! We need them all now.’
Acknowledgements
All novels, perhaps historical novels especially, are to some extent collaborative efforts. Dominion has benefited from the help of others more than most. First and foremost I must thank my wonderful editor and agent, Maria Rejt of Mantle/Macmillan, and Antony Topping of Greene & Heaton, and their excellent staff – especially Sophie Orme, Ali Blackburn and Susan Opie at Mantle and Chris Wellbelove at Greene & Heaton, who managed to track down a crucial 1999 Channel 4 documentary on the Great Smog of 1952.
My thanks to Maria and Antony are all the greater for their support when, following a long period of debilitating illness, which put the book behind schedule, I was diagnosed this year with bone-marrow cancer. Along with treatment, their faith in the book and in me has allowed it to be finished in time for October 2012 publication.
Becky Smith once again did an astonishingly speedy and accurate job of typing. Olivia Williams carried out some crucial research for me in London when I was not well enough to go there, and I am grateful for the excellent job she did.
Once again, I thank the group of friends who read the book in manuscript and commented on it comprehensively and perceptively as usuaclass="underline" Roz Brody, Mike Holmes, Jan King and William Shaw.
Lou Taylor, Professor of Dress and Textile History, and Dr Gillian Scott, both of the School of Humanities, University of Brighton, were very generous with their time in discussing aspects of social history and fashion during the period from the 1930s to the 1950s, which helped greatly in my construction of an alternate universe.
My warm thanks to Dr Françoise Hutton for discussing the type of medication Frank might have been on, and the modern history of mental hospitals.
Robert Edwards was very helpful in sharing his great knowledge of Sussex for the scenes set there. Martin Foster advised me, a complete ignoramus on the subject, on some basics of radio communication.
For the second book running, Rear-Admiral John Lippiett, Chief Executive of the Mary Rose Trust, helped me with naval matters, which are important at the end of the story, and I am grateful to him for taking time out from his work in completing the final stages of the new Mary Rose Museum, which will be opening in 2013. (I can reassure him that in my planned next novel, Matthew Shardlake will keep his feet firmly on dry land.) The Museum Appeal has done wonders in raising funds, but is still £400,000 short of its target. When finished, it will have on display the greatest store of Tudor artefacts anywhere in the world, in a magnificent setting. More information and pictures can be found at www.maryrose.org. Donations for the final stages of the project can be sent via the website or to The Mary Rose Trust, HM Naval Base, Portsmouth PO1 3LX.
Alan Purdie at the British Legion was very helpful in providing details which helped me construct the 1952 Remembrance Day Ceremony in Chapter One. It is a very different Remembrance Day in my alternate universe, but I hope I managed to retain something of the atmosphere of respect which the ceremony deserves.
Any errors of fact in the book are, of course, my own responsibility.
Thanks to my friend Robyn Young for discussions of history and the strategy of book-writing, and support when times were tough. Thanks also to Paul Tempest and Peter Allinson for lending me their house to work in while building works were taking place in mine. And last but not least, to Graham Brown of Fullertons for frequent bouts of photocopying and limitless supplies of stationery.
Bibliographical Note
Dominion involved a greater range of background reading than any previous novel I have written.
On British social and political history from the 1930s to the 1950s, the most useful works were Angus Calder’s The People’s War: Britain 1939–45 (1971), still I think the best social history of wartime Britain. Also very useful were Juliet Gardiner’s The Thirties:An Intimate History (2010), and Wartime Britain 1939–45 (2004), and Richard Overy’s The Morbid Age: Britain between the Wars (2009).
Peter Hennessy’s Never Again: Britain 1945–51 (1992) and Having It So Good: Britain in the Fifties (2000) are packed with fascinating information. David Kynaston’s Austerity Britain 1945–51 (2008) and Family Britain 1951–57 (2010) were also very helpful. I think Kynaston’s insight that, culturally, Britain in the decade following the Second World War retreated into a 1930s view on many social issues, is crucial. In the first decade after the war there were highly censorious attitudes to subjects like illegitimacy, homosexuality and divorce, and the belief that women belonged in the home returned after the war. In my alternate universe Britain in 1952 is even more like the 1930s, and without the social reforms and full employment created by the Attlee government of 1945–51.
On particular topics, Juliet Nicolson’s The Great Silence (2009) is a moving and evocative account of Britain coming to terms with the terrible losses of the First World War, which so affected Sarah’s family in my book. Barbara Tate’s West End Girls (2010) is a fascinating and extraordinary memoir of life in a Soho brothel of the period, and Dilys’ establishment in Dominion owes it much. The Channel 4 documentary Killer Fog (1999) tells the extraordinary story of the Great Smog of 1952 evocatively and with compassion for the many who died. Rupert Allason’s The Branch (1983) was a very useful brief introduction to the history of the Special Branch; though I suspect the author would disagree with my portrayal of how the Branch might have developed in an authoritarian Britain, I see it as perfectly probable.