I’m now a fully signed-up member of the British Union of Fascists, he wrote. Tom Mosley convinced me, not that he needed to, that the present government is wholly out of touch with the everyday needs of its people abroad. Our economy is still suffering from the Depression and the repeated droughts, and if we’re to recover, we need decisive men on the ground, not the endless delays we’ve had so far. The Blackshirt movement believes in action, rather than talk. Moreover, Tom agrees we need to build up trade within our Empire now that foreign markets are closing against us. Restricting it with mandates and the Congo Basin Treaties will damage us all.

It’s not just the colonies, either, that could do with a shaking up. The BUF is immensely popular here. They see what Mussolini’s done for Italy and they would like to see Britain’s primacy restored in the same way.

I’d replied with news of the general unease. He wrote back, saying he’d be returning in August.

It’s time for me to do something important, something good. Mosley has some pretty influential supporters, the letter finished, and I suspect Kenya will be easily won over, especially with the failure of the additional tax this year. The country is effectively bankrupt, and its taxable capacity was reached years ago. The BUF understands that.

I’d been excited, reading it, but Maud’s face turned pale on the last page. ‘How can someone so intelligent be such a fool?’ she asked.

‘What do you mean?’

She scooped an open newspaper from the floor and thrust it at me. ‘Look.’

The headline read:

BLACKSHIRTS IN KENYA? SPECIAL DELEGATE APPOINTED.

Underneath, the article started: ‘Freddie Hamilton, the Earl of Caithness, who is at present in England, has been appointed delegate of the British Union of Fascists for Kenya Colony. The Earl is reported to be returning … with a constructive and energetic plan to convert the Colony to the Blackshirt policy.’ I smiled and flicked through the rest of the paper.

A few pages later was news of Germany’s ‘bloodbath’, with Nazi SS officers killing stormtroopers and SA leaders they claimed were planning a revolt against Hitler.

‘You can’t blame Freddie for this,’ I said. ‘The editor’s the one equating the Blackshirts with the Nazis.’

‘Because Mosley admits admiration for Hitler.’

‘Look, you have to admit we’re still shaky here. Much as I like Byrne, I don’t think he’s going to help us out of it. Maybe Freddie could do better.’

Sylvie, who’d been quiet, handed back the letter, and wrapped one arm across her stomach. ‘Don’t fall into that trap, Theo.’

‘What trap?’

‘Listening to Freddie rather than thinking for yourself.’

My face burned. ‘That’s how you see it?’