Some young people arrived then, to join us on their dinner hour. One of them offered round Woodbines from a tuppenny packet. Alice and Kitty unpacked the hamper we had brought – watercress sandwiches, hard-boiled eggs, barley water, and the radishes, tomatoes and raspberries from our garden. Ella unwrapped meat pies and began to cut them up, handing round the pieces (careful, Ella – we’ve got some vegetarians). There were pears and greengages, from the vicarage orchard (I didn’t mention their provenance).

Betty Edkins played the tin whistle, and the Solomon children entertained us with a display of toe dancing.

A young lad flung himself down on the grass beside Ambrose and me.

What do you think of them, Mr Barker? The new Labour men in government?

Oh, don’t ask him that, lad. You’ll be here all day.

Five-hundred-pound-a-year men all. Doing the Tories’ work for them. Come to the Working Men’s Club and meet the Walthamstow Anarchists. We’re teetotal there, but you can have a game of billiards.

What do you think of Hitler?

Now listen. Today is International Red Day. Before we think of fighting Germany and Italy we must fight Capitalism.

Isn’t Hitler fighting Capitalism too?

*

Could I have a pie, Mama?

Shh, they’ll give them round. If I get a piece you’ll have mine.

*

Did you go to Trafalgar Square in the spring, to hear the hunger marchers?

I did. I heard Tom Mann give his speech.

Do you think Labour will give it them? Thirty shillings a week?

MacDonald and his cronies! Do you think they’re Socialist, any of them? Ha! They impugn the name of Socialism. Invertebrates, all of them. Spineless and gutless.

*

Have another sandwich, Sid, you’re looking thin. Did you go and see my brother-in-law?

I did, Mrs Hagger, and thank you. He says he’ll find me a day or two at the end of the month but he’s got nothing regular. I’ve the loan of a bike next week, thought I’d go round the farms.

If I hear of anything I’ll tell you. Would you take shop work?

I would, but I’m not much good at adding up. I can weigh things and wrap things and wash down tables and that.

*

Edward, I didn’t tell you this morning’s good news. I had a cheque in the post for a hundred dollars – no, don’t get excited, it’s for the League Against Imperialism, for our work on Meerut. The news has reached our American comrades, and they have rallied round.

Dilli Chalo!

Indeed.

Enormously kind of them. How will you spend it?

Legal fees. Food parcels. Bribes. We can arrange those things quite cheaply by wiring to India. I’m going to spend a very little on some simple pamphlets and stamps to spread enlightenment here. I was thinking of sending a delegation to the TUC.

TUC won’t listen.