Excellency,’ the diminutive Lady St John purred across a forkful of fish. ‘What exactly does it mean?’
‘It means “all the world one family”. At peace.’
‘How beautiful. It’s a religious idea, is it? That when we’ve all finished being beastly to each other on this earth, we go to the same heaven?’
‘No, no,’ Shigemitsu protested. ‘Peace on this earth. All one family. On this earth.’
‘Oh, I see. I’m so relieved. There are so many rumours that Japan wants to attack us in the Far East. Tell me, Your Excellency, that’s not going to happen, is it?’
‘Japanese wish British people nothing but harmony,’ the Japanese responded, picking over his words as though he had a mouthful of bones.
‘And the Chinese?’
Shigemitsu swallowed his trout unchewed. He examined his plate, not wishing to catch Lady St John’s eye for fear of betraying his annoyance. Her bluntness was ill-mannered; was she female and stupid, or simply Western and therefore incorrigibly rude?
‘Our only wish is to create what we call a Greater East Asia Co-Prosperity Sphere.’
‘Ah, so that’s what you are doing in China. Trying to make them all prosperous. Now I understand.’
The ambassador laid down his knife and fork. Of course she didn’t understand, and the silly woman was probably incapable of doing so, but it was his duty to try to bring her to some form of awareness.
‘The European powers—French, Dutch, British—have many colonies in Asia. Control all oil and other raw materials. We consider the position…unbalanced.’ He gave a little bow, as if to indicate that he was entirely satisfied with his selection of the word. ‘Japan wants only similar influence in our own continent. Access to raw materials in Asia like Britain—even America.’
He made it sound so reasonable, but he had unwittingly opened up a new flank. The unknown American took it as an invitation to join in.
‘And you make war in order to get them,’ he stated.
The ambassador’s colour darkened. ‘We do not want war. War would not continue if Britain and America did not keep sending weapons to China along the Burma Road. My government believes that is very unfriendly act.’
‘More than ten million dead Chinese since the war started four years ago, most of them civilians. Three hundred thousand killed in Nanking in a single winter. If you want to talk about unfriendly acts, maybe we should start with that.’
‘Perhaps, sir, and begging your pardon’—he gave another little bow—‘you are not aware of the full facts of war.’
‘I guess you’re right, Mr Ambassador. I don’t know enough about war. But since I arrived in London a few days ago, I’m beginning to catch on fast.’
‘Perhaps, sir, you will permit me to suggest that you discuss the matter with your European friends, who have been fighting colonial wars for hundreds of years. They might be able to hasten your understanding.’
There was another little bob, like a karate chop.
‘Mr Ambassador,’ the American said, refusing to use the honorific title of ‘Excellency’, ‘Americans hate all colonial wars. Which is why we insist on the right to continue sending supplies to China.’
‘You will forgive me, sir, if I see American history in a slightly different colour. I believe—I ask you to correct me if this is not true—that your country purchased the entire territory of Louisiana from the French.’
‘Not the same thing at all. Louisiana isn’t a colony, it was a natural extension of the United States.’
‘A very understandable argument, sir. And it was certainly closer to the United States than Alaska, which I believe you purchased later.’
‘The territory of Alaska was practically empty. Full of nothing but fish and ice. I think there were maybe four hundred Russians living there.’
‘Unlike the islands of the Philippines, which you fought for. Forty years ago. You will please forgive me if that is an inconvenient or inaccurate fact. Or the islands of Hawaii. I believe the United States annexed them at about the same time.’
Damn, but he was good. Lady St John beamed. She hadn’t had this much fun since she had plied the then-German Ambassador, von Ribbentrop, with his own champagne and asked him to expound upon his feelings about Jews.
‘I will grant you, Mr Ambassador, that history has a stubborn streak,’ the American responded. ‘It doesn’t form itself into convenient straight lines. And the United States, like all nations, has a history that allows for questioning and criticism.’ The American seemed to be conceding, perhaps aware that the Japanese was preparing to chase him fully around the globe via Guam, Puerto Rico, Cuba and several other colonial contradictions. ‘But I am not concerned with history, sir. I am talking about today. And tomorrow. And the slaughter of tens of millions of innocent civilians. Whatever the cause, whatever the grievance, whatever the injustice for which redemption is sought, nothing can support such a cost.’
‘It is most unfortunate that today warfare carries with it such a terrible price.’
‘Which is why the United States has declared it will never become a combatant in this one.’
‘It is a most happy situation for your United States,’ the ambassador said with a smile of steel, ‘that, unlike every other nation represented around this table, you have not become involved in war. For my part, I pray most earnestly that your good fortune will continue, and that you will remain free from the curse of war.’
‘Hell, we don’t pick fights, Mr Ambassador. We finish ’em.’
It was, in Lady St John’s view, a most glorious cockfight, but it had gone far enough, for the moment. There were three other courses to get through; something had to be kept in reserve.
‘Would you like some more, Your Excellency? Or have you had enough?’
‘More than enough. Thank you, Lady St John.’ He bowed, which allowed him to break eye contact with the American.
‘I don’t know much about English manners, Lady St John, but if it’s not being impolite, I’d love some more,’ the American said, without waiting to be asked. He’d be damned before he followed Shigemitsu. ‘It’s what the workers on my railroad would call “damned fine chow”.’ He paused only momentarily. ‘I guess that’s the Chinese influence, eh?’
And suddenly the table was alight with a multitude of different conversations. Pamela, who had been as transfixed as Emerald at the outpouring of male hormones, was seated between the American and his ambassador. They were both tall and dark, middle-aged, with fine eyes, but there the resemblance finished. Winant was uncombed, uncertain and largely inaudible at such occasions, whereas the other man most evidently was not. And he seemed to own a railway. She placed a hand gently on his sleeve.
‘Forgive me, but I didn’t catch your name.’
‘It’s Averell Harriman.’ He smiled, a little stiffly. He gazed down at her; she knew he was struggling to keep his eyes steady. It was her
