“Well, someone found him a sinecure on my father’s behalf, but yes. Why?”

“I thought they’d put him somewhere harmless!”

“I believe he was rubber-stamping assurances of quality on shipments.”

“Do you have any idea how often Supplies bollocksed up?” Will demanded. “Crates of left-footed boots with no rights, and gloves that came apart when you put them on. Cans of spoiled meat. We’d run out of tea half the time and I dare say that sounds funny till you’re sat in a trench freezing your arse off in soaking wet socks because your boots leak, and you can’t even have a decent hot drink. God, we used to curse the bastards. And if any of that was down to people like Chingford—some brainless, clueless arsehole put in the chair by Daddy so he didn’t have to take his chances with the rest of us—Jesus Christ. What was he doing all day? A few drinks at lunchtime, sign whatever got put in front of him, and go home at three?”

“Probably.”

“Your father’s a son of a bitch,” Will said. “And so’s everyone who put your brother and people like him in responsible positions. Did it not matter at all that there were people at the Front who needed those jobs done properly while we fought the war he was too important to go to?”

“No,” Kim said. “No, it didn’t matter. Chingford is my father’s heir, and he counts for more than other people.”

“Jesus. He couldn’t fight, you couldn’t go to gaol, and your father’s whining because one of his sons had to get off his arse?”

Kim was sitting up now with his arms wrapped round his knees. “I told you, Will. Rotten to the core. There’s a reason I turned Red.”

“You weren’t wrong. And I don’t ever want to hear that Henry dying was your fault again. Your father’s a piece of shit, and he owed the war a son.”

Kim didn’t react in any of the ways he might have. He just sat in silence, until Will got a grip on himself and said, “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Not out loud, perhaps. It doesn’t matter. Henry’s beyond harm.”

“You’re not.”

Kim sighed. “You’ve every right to be angry with my father. It’s corruption, nothing more.”

Will flopped back onto the bracken again. “How come you aren’t an arsehole like the rest of them?”

Kim resumed his position with his head on Will’s stomach. “I am: you tell me so often enough. And to the extent I’m not, I dare say it’s because I didn’t get a fair share of the privilege showered on my brother.”

“Or because you can tell right from wrong. Can we talk about beating the shit out of Chingford again?”